#its fine i know what i signed up for its just as a traumatized person its not something that i wanna be dealing with

[caruliaa]

now one cares if ur mom loves you soooo muc and u love her soooo much and ur omg arent mothers soo great always bs. shut up !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 12

Ship & Trope: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader (Water Pillars Tsuguko) / Slowburn

Warnings: canon-typical violence / fluff / mention of trauma and fire

Word Count: 1880 Words

pinterest board of Flame and Water

crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Flame and Water

The old lady's statements opened many questions for Kyojuro. Even when he said goodbye to her, he brooded over her words, but came to no conclusion. He was confused and a little hurt. Didn't you two trust each other that day so you kept something that important from him? Why were you hiding it? He thought that you were both close friends. He couldn't answer the question and would ask you about it later when you were feeling better. First, he had to talk to his father. He needed to know what had happened back then.

He entered the room where his father spent the most of his time and didn’t see him lying on his futon for the first time in years. Usually, he was either drinking and laying sideways while reading in that book but now he sat on the engawa, and his eyes were staring into the distance. Respectful as Kyojuro was, he sat down on the tatami mat to keep a distance and just as he was about to open his mouth, Shinjuro interrupted him.

"Is your girlfriend okay?"

Kyojuro had not expected this question. She was not his girlfriend. In general, he hadn't expected his father to ask about anyone's wellbeing, but it looked like he was sober. "Yes, she's unconscious, but-"

"And her burns?"

Kyojuro's eyes widened at this statement, and it hit him like a slap. Even his father knew that crucial detail about you. His gaze dropped as he clenched his fists on his knees. "The old lady next door treated her. She said she will be fine and should wake up in the next hour or so. She also told me that Y/N has several old burns. Something you seem to know about, father."

Shinjuro turned his head sideways to give him a silent look, before he turned ahead again and sighed. "15 years ago, there was a fire demon who attacked a village. His eye bore the sign Lower Rank One. A powerful opponent who managed to spread a firestorm and turned countless people into demons. It was something I had never seen in my lifetime as a slayer."

Kyojuro swallowed and listened to his father's words. Lower Moon One? He remembered the fight he had against Lower Moon Two to become a Hashira and how he had terrorized a whole city with his bombs.

Shinjuro continued. "Your girlfriend looked at me the same way back then, full of fear and terror. Unfortunately, she witnessed how I beheaded her parents while protecting her. They had been turned into demons who wanted to eat their own daughter. I was able to decapitate the Lower Moon One… but at what cost? There was no one left to save. He had killed everyone without exception or turned them into demons which forced me to kill them all. Only she survived, but she ran away from me like I was the monster… I found her buried under a heap of rubble and wounded with the worst burns I have ever seen on a human being. Her chances of survival were slim and yet I wanted to save at least one person in this tragedy. The scale of the catastrophe was great, the village burned beyond recognition of its existence. Just as she bore her scars from it, I too have one from this fiery hell."

Shinjuro turned his foot around so Kyojuro could see the burned soles. "The demon slayer uniform protected me, the tabi socks didn't and yet I wished that I would be the one who's skin burned and not that of a little child. I can understand if she doesn't want to talk about it. It must have traumatized her badly. Even I-"

Suddenly a stifled sob sounded behind the shoji door. Father and son immediately turned their heads and knew that you had been listening to them the whole time behind the thin paper walls.

You had woken up alone and scared in a room with a headache. A penetrating herbal smell immediately hit your nose. An earlier memory from your childhood had come alive again and you knew immediately that you were covered with a burn ointment. A similar one that they used on you as a child. One quick look under your hakama and you saw the reddened skin. Your leg couldn't get any uglier than it already is, you thought dryly. You stepped out of the room and looked around for Kyojuro and couldn't see him until you heard his voice.

You stood there petrified and listened to the complete story of Shinjuro and your village. So that's why your memories were patchy without even knowing. There was simply no one left to tell you about it because they were all dead and your parents- Your breath caught and the memory of them coming at you with contorted faces came back with a bang. They- they tried to eat you! You hadn't even noticed how the tears flowed down your cheeks when a choked sob escaped you and you immediately covered your mouth with your hand. You looked in the direction of the shoji door in fear and hurried away with quick steps. You didn't want to be seen by them - not in this state - and entered the first room that you saw.

You dropped to the ground and cried uncontrollably. A heavy burden seemed to have been lifted from your shoulders and the unrestrained grief over the death of your family and friends overcame you. You finally knew the complete truth without knowing you were living a lie. You were not alone because you were avoided, but because you were brutally robbed of every person you ever knew.

With your head on your knees, you succumbed to your grief when you suddenly felt a presence next to you. You looked up with tear-stained eyes right into golden-red hues. Kyojuro's gaze contained no pity and yet they were filled with sadness and empathy for you. "Y/N..." He took your hand in his and pulled you up. "You are not alone in this. I won't allow that, so share your pain with me." If Kyojuro could, he would take all your pain to never see you cry again.

More tears gathered in your eyes until you couldn't see anything anymore. "K-Kyojuro-" With a sob, you threw yourself into his arms. He immediately wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you in a fierce embrace.

You cried into the crook of his neck. It took a while for you to calm down, but that didn't matter, Kyojuro was here to hold you. His tight warm hug, it was like he gathered all the broken and burned pieces and made you whole again. Without realizing you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and took in his scent which sent you into a light buzz. His scent was warm like the ray of sunshine with an earthy undertone. It was so comforting for your senses that you wanted to nuzzle your nose more until you realized what you were about to do, but you didn't pull immediately away. Kyojuro’s grip on your yukata was so tight, his face buried also into your neck. It seemed like as he didn’t want let go of you, like he had to make sure you were still whole.

It took a while for the two of you to loosen your grip on each other. Very slowly you moved your heads apart but only to look deep into each other's eyes. Still in his embrace, you gazed into his beautiful golden red hues, which always radiated such a passionate optimism, but now seemed to have a gleam you had never seen in him before. A pleasant tingling spread through you, and you felt the looming tension between you. Without realizing your faces came closer until your lips met.

It was soft and chaste, fleeting - the touch of his lips hotter than you thought in the short moment you kissed. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered excitedly when you saw a hint of blush on his cheeks.

"I- apologize!"

"For what?"

"For touching you in such an inappropriate way!" His face was now completely red, and you could not help but start to giggle.

"I think it’s called a kiss, Kyojuro."

Mesmerized, he stared at your lips while you giggled. "Yeah, and I think I am going to do it again..."

He was about to bend down to give you another kiss when you quickly placed your finger on his lips. "W-Wait! What if someone just barges in here?" You looked around with a slight panic.

You heard his deep chuckle. "That is not going to happen, since this is my room."

“Oh,” was the only thing that left your lips. You looked around wide-eyed and indeed, it looked like it belonged to him. You just went into the next available room in such a hurry that you didn't even notice it, but on closer inspection it was obvious. It included the usual things a room needed. A futon to sleep, a chest of drawers and a picture of his family. But there was one thing- no two things that stood out. One was a small chest that seemed to hold writing stuff and the other was a hanging scroll where "protection" was written in a calligraphy. It was above his futon. The origin didn’t seem to be himself.

“Do you like it?”

You nodded and started to blush madly when you realized how intimate this situation actually was. You were here alone in Kyojuro’s room as the said man was still holding you.

He laughed his boisterous laugh, and you felt his laughter vibrate all over your body. Your blush was just so adorable that he couldn’t hold himself back and kissed your cheek. Another silent moment passed between you when you just looked into each other's eyes and then he suddenly shouted. “Y/N!” His face was red like a tomato. “I love you and I would be happy if you could become my girlfriend!”

His confession was bold and like a burning fire. He literally was the Flame Pillar as a slayer and in his private time. You smiled as you pulled him in for another kiss, holding his face in your hands. It was not a long and passionate kiss as this was the first one you ever shared in your life, that was followed by several others. Each of them was short and soft, feather light like the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach. Each kiss had him sigh in delight, between each kiss you whispered how you loved him too, how much you wanted to be his, until you rested your head on his chest with closed eyes, and heard the strong and steady beat of his heart. You heard how excited he was that the feeling was mutual.

He noticed your exhaustion of the day and laid down on his futon, pulling you close in a comfortable and comforting embrace. You nuzzled your face into his chest, the symbol of protection over both of your heads, and you indeed felt protected for the first time in your life in the embrace of a Flame.

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

Big thanks to my lovely friend @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for beta reading and editing❤️) As some might have realized that the story is close to the end. Chapter 13 will be the last and then there comes an epilog. I hope you will stay tuned till the epilog. And again I am open for discussions and critique. All likes, reblogs and replies are highly appreciated!

Taglist:

@krillfromsky @kingmultiverse404 @deepressed @nelissecrectplace @yomoya-girl @theycallmemrsbarnes @roninishere @beelzmunchkin @kyojurismo @stuckinthewrongworld @lynnw @love-me-satoru @felix99999l @noarawriteszr @strawberrymm @rye-flower @demonslayeranimex @kittenssss-blog-blog @hanatsuki-hime @kxthxrinx3180 @thatw3ird0 @lovely-nayiq @annie-napier @cole-silas @inonezu-808 @witchy-scribblings @drowsydoggy @anjox @xkanrojimitsurix @ahashiraswife @mamayan @flametrashira

[cozzzynook]

Someone doing something to Drift causing him to be Deadlock again. He recognizes Ratchet and although he's weary he trusts him and is the only person he doesn't attack.

He doesn't trust Rodimus who feels horrible and is trying to be supportive. When Ratchet brings Deadlock back to their room Rodimus is inside and Deadlock thinks he's breaking in. He attacks Rodimus and sends him to the medbay with a broken arm and bruised neck.

They decide it would be best that for the time being Rodimus stays somewhere else. The entire time he's depressed and not doing well.

Omg yes!!!!

I both love & feel the feels towards this!!!

Big brain babes! Big brain!!

Poor Rodimus and Drift.

I just know Rodimus is worrying for Drift and Drift is traumatized all over again when he turns back. Poor mech.

As Deadlock he’s so different and yet so similar and Rodimus didn’t really think it through when he approached nor when he got a bit too close for comfort and received a deep gash that he had to get treated.

He tells Ratchet its fine and that he doesn’t wanna tell Drift who did it. As Deadlock he has no idea its him they’re talking about nor does he care. He just wants to get away from the mech that makes him feel weird.

Ratchet is ready to disagree when Rodimus cuts him off and says he should take Deadlock to their habsuite, and man that hurts them both to hear and Rodimus feels his glossa thicken at how wrong it feels but how strong A possibility it’d once been and how no matter what it still ended up being the outcome. He’s lost them, he feels. The two were conjunx before adding him and he’s always wondered how long or if it could last.

Seems he’s got his answer even if he knows they’re working on a way to change him back.

Time goes on and he notices the way the two have a natural chemistry between them that he’s never been able to just flow into. Not even when Deadlock was Drift.

It reminds him of all their differences and how out of place he looks besides them. How out of place he always looks no matter where he goes.

He takes to spending time away from not only his partners but every bot making up the crew. Rodimus had kept to himself in his office using his couch as a berth much to his spoiler’s dismay.

He couldn’t go back to the hab they all shared and he wouldn’t take up a cot in the medbay so he figured the next best thing was his office.

Megatron vehemently denied this when he caught the speedster in uncomfortable recharge after immediately noticing his optic bags and drooping spoiler. Not to mention his dull paint job accompanied by his lack of energy and poorly healing gash.

Rodimus doesn’t push Megatron away when the large mech lifts him from his couch and takes him back to his own hab. Where he changes the gauze on his bandages after cleaning the wound with careful digits that trace the seams of his cords making him shiver.

The touch is gentle and personal in a way he’s never bothered questioning. A habit really, to accept whatever touch and movement the large mech gives.

Rodimus doesn’t think when he feels the mech lower him into a steaming oil solvent bath. He’s much too comfortable and lost within to do anything beside lay his helm back and close his optics as large servos gently unclasp his chassis and reveal vulnerable soft pouches that make him whimper.

A kiss to his helm for comfort is what gives them both focus and ground as gray and black servos check his barely flickering spark.

Its the beginning signs of an episode and he knows the mech he once laid with outside of battle as Hot rod is comming First Aid to bring his medicine to his suite.

A servo rests on his spark casing, the other accidentally brushes the sides of a flat tank that once made it impossible to stand.

They both curl into the other at the thought penetrating their psyches at once.

The connection that never went away with distance or time feels as fresh and deep as the day they created it.

It hurts.

Heals.

Torments him.

Fills him with silence after his screams. Vision blurred and frame staggering to lift as he reached before falling. The slow crawl and opening of his chassis was not enough, not with his spark weak from pain and dysfunction.

Neither of them had been able to do a thing.

Its something that haunts them when forced to confront it.

With Drift and Ratchet he can float keeping it at bay but here or alone he never grants a moments peace with the knowledge he failed.

“My sun,”

“Don’t,” he whispers, optics shedding fluid. “I have to go.”

A comm pings them both and Megatron knows he’s right. He can read the younger with such ease it scares him. A feeling he knows the other has with how naturally he manages to comfort and assure Megatron without words or meeting his optics.

The two always stayed away from each other for sake of privacy and secrecy. But Deadlock had watched Rodimus more than the flame mech knew.

He noticed how Megatron laid gentle touches just below the yellow spoiler or how a thumb brushed along red hip platinng in a gesture of safety and long carried feelings.

Deadlock also noticed how the red mech didn’t push the warlord away. How easy he melted to such touches, how different he looked when it was just the two. How they shared a feeling of pain none of the others were aware of.

Deadlock could see how Rodimus was tense in videos with a mech named Drift and his Ratchet. He’d found a lot of the videos with just Ratchet and the mech named Drift before eventually seeing Rodimus being added.

Deadlock by no means was a bolt brain. He could tell Drift was him. He just couldn’t fathom why he changed to look like that.

It soothed something inside him both old and foreign to know he’s with Ratchet and he can’t deny seeing the red and yellow speedster as very attractive and even funny. But he’s not sure why the red and yellow mech is even with him and Ratchet if he has such easy chemistry with the now former warlord who looks at the other like he needed him as the stars in their galaxy needed the infinite of space to exist.

He didn’t bring it up with Ratchet.

He wanted to watch the two more closely before saying anything.

He didn’t exactly feel bad for landing that gash across the flame speedster but he did want to check to see if the damage was healing.

He found a moment in time where the two were far apart and Ratchet was in the medbay.

He’d done something he wouldn’t typically do but the mech before him made him feel things he’s only ever associated with Ratchet.

So touching the mechs hip and tank instead above where the gash lay, he found himself being shoved off harshly with flaming servos melting his plating as a distress rev of his engine and vocal cords called out leaving him stunned at the panic in the youngers optics.

No. Not panic.

Terror.

The kid felt terror at something so simple.

He knows he hurt the kid but he didn’t he hurt him that bad. Not when the kid would give him sad gentle smiles and polite waves that looked like they hurt his spark when he would pass him by with Ratchet. The kid looked like he wanted to stand beside them but knew his place wasn’t there anymore. And for every time he saw that look, there was Megatron showing alien kindness by comforting the mech with something far deeper than the kinship Ratchet said the two held.

So he wasn’t too surprised seeing Megatron appear by the captains back and hold him tight to his chassis. Spark to spark as he looked him over with his canon and blade ignited.

What was surprising was him going through a literal steel and concrete wall unfazed while other mechs were just in shock from the display.

It was Megatron whispering something in Rodimus audial that got the mech to snap back to reality, breaking into tears that went unseen as he hid his face plates in Megatrons neck cables.

The former warlord looked like he wanted to hurt something and someone but he also looked…defeated.

Something no bot on either side had seen even after he changed sides.

Ratchet caught sight of the end of their interaction before checking Deadlock over asking what happened.

Deadlock waited until they were in the privacy of their hab to tell Ratchet he doesn’t think their captain had just a kinship with his cocaptain.

“He answered a distress call. It’s something Nyonians used to do when in deep pain among other reasons. Megatron was on the other side of the ship and barreled through a wall to get to him. That call was for amica or conjunx. You said Drift and Rodimus were amica. I know I’m Drift Ratchet and that call wasn’t for me.”

“Kid..what..when did you know?”

“A few weeks ago. I wanted to be sure before I said anything about those two though. I’m not saying he’s cheating on you or future me. I’m just saying something is there thats older than the time spent on this ship. Something they kept to themselves that they didn’t want anyone finding out.”

Ratchet pinched his olfactory sensor with a deep sigh because he knows Deadlock is right. He’d been watching Rodimus too and he could see how hurt the kid was keeping his distance but he could also see how Megatron genuinely couldn’t stand to see the kid so hurt. Whereas Ratchet gave sympathetic glances and kept watch over Rodimus, Megatron actively went out his way to comfort the younger.

“Frag,” his shoulder plating drooped and he sighed heavily, “The kid has his reasons I’m sure.”

“But to not tell us and he’s supposed to be a partner of sorts?”

“Well..”

“We’re conjunx. I can feel it. Even now,” Deadlock informed the old medic who looked surprised. “I even feel something for the little speeder, but I know we aren’t conjunx with him. Why?”

“We..we never asked him,” Ratchet spoke like air left his vents, “and he never asked us,” he looked down.

“That leads me to my next question that was confirmed earlier when I touched him,” Deadlock spoke, “where is his sparkling?”

“Kid what?”

Ratchet looked exasperated at the mere mention of a sparkling and Rodimus having one.

“Kid he doesn’t have-”

“Yes he does,” Deadlock interrupted, “I’ve seen him zone out touching his tanks the way carriers do. Earlier today I touched his hip and tank while his back was turned and he was zoned out. Thats what gave that reaction. He has a sparkling Ratchet. What I want to know is where or if he’s sparked now.”

Ratchet took that as his moment to sit down and stare into nothing thinking it through.

He’d know if the kid was sparked now which he wasn’t. Rodimus wore two baffles instead of the standard one. The kid was by no means sparked. So that left him with only one other option.

“We ask him tomorrow. Perceptor and Brainstorm have the processor and frame ray complete and await us tomorrow to change you back. After you rest, we ask him then. Deal?”

“Will I have my memories from now?”

“Yes,” Ratchet promised.

So deadlock agreed and by the next day he was back to being Drift with all his memories of what happened and a happiness to be back to himself and hug his conjunx.

“Ratty?”

“Hm?”

Ratchet was still drunk on the scent and feeling of having Drift in his arms this way, so much so he almost forgot what they agreed to.

“Oh yeah,” Ratchet felt bad for forgetting Rodimus and Drift felt bad for hurting him like that but knowing Rodimus he wouldn’t hold it against them.

None of the crew abroad had seen either of their co captains so Ratchet figured they try Megatrons hab and surely enough they were both there.

With a knock on the door it was answered but not by Rodimus who they figured wouldn’t since it wasn’t his hab.

“Drift? Ratchet? I see they’ve changed you back. Good to see. I’ll wake Rodimus and alert him of your presence. Just give me a moment?”

It wasn’t much of a question but the two nodded as he went back into his hab and closed the door. They noticed how tired he looked and the paint transfer on his neck cable and chassis. It didn’t feel sexual by any means but that didn’t make them feel better.

Because a moment later they saw Rodimus with gray and black paint transfers and signs of tear tracks that littered both their frames.

“Drift, I’m glad you’re okay. Ratchet.”

Rodimus didn’t make an attempt to hug either of them but his smile was genuine even if it was tainted with sadness.

“I’ll um..I’ll come by you guys hab later okay?”

“Roddy? Our hab..its all our habs..”

“Oh well, yeah,” his spoiler didn’t bounce as he tried to make it and they noticed how he shrunk in on himself.

And how Megatron was able to put a servo on his lower back along with the concern in his stained optics.

“I..I’ll come back to our hab later on, okay? I just need to finish up some things first,” he looked like he was in pain and they knew their guess was right when Megatron spoke next.

“It’s time to take your medicine. First Aid was very specific about having it before the signs got worse.”

“I,” the sigh and frustration building in Rodimus frame and optics with balled servos wasn’t to be ignored by any of the mechs but a rub of Megatrons servo along Rodimus hip and a poke to his chassis made the younger deflate and pout a little.

“Alright fine,” he looked to Ratchet and Drift, “I’m really glad you’re okay Drift. You two should get some alone time together before I get back. You gotta miss each other like this yeah?”

Somehow it felt worse knowing Rodimus didn’t mean anything spiteful or mean by it. He genuinely was just sad and saying how he truly felt.

With one last smile Rodimus lets Megatron move him into the hab and they see him go for spark medicine before laying in a nest on the berth.

There’s a little plush in the center thats old but well taken care of. Ratchet snd Drift recognize it from miner culture. When their partner was sparked or they adopted a sparkling of their very own they’d make a plush by servo for them. The little plush even held a bit of Nyon culture to it. The colors were bright like the people of Nyon and the sight of Rodimus looking at it so entranced and zoned out gave answer to their question.

Megatron bid them farewell with a nod before returning his attention to the plush and Rodimus.

As the door closed they saw the two curled together with the plush in the middle and something broke inside both of them as they realized why the two were so close.

-

My brain does this thing where it goes off to another idea while trying to Incorporate the idea brought to me. I hope this is something you can still enjoy

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

Hi,

for the nosy asks 25, 30 and 35 (whatever gender you prefer).

😘

25 ) My idea of a perfect date is honestly doing something I love with the person, finding whatever they love and are interested in, be it the movies, going out to a beautiful restaurant, even just a quiet night in. I want to show that person that I am generally interested in them, by incorporating the things they love into the activities and locations in any way I can. I'm a hopeless romantic, have a tattoo confirming that haha, and I will always go above and beyond for that person. A perfect date to me is making someone genuinely HAPPY.

30) What I hate most about work/school? I can tell you what I DID hate about school, as I'm currently unemployed due to personal reasons and restrictions. But the STUDYING. Studying of any kind would always leave me an anxious, overstimulated mess and would very often have to take breaks within 15 minutes or I would break down and just pretend it didn't exist. I later found out this was because I was on the spectrum, because if I was studying something I took GENUINE interest in I was FINE. No problems, but trying to take in information that I couldn't click with was just a NIGHTMARE.

35) I'll answer this as the "What am I most attracted to in men" and leave the female version of this question (36) when I'm asked it haha, because... men. What can I say about MEN.

Due to very traumatic pasts with EVERY single man i've had be a part of my life be it family or friend, it has left me with some very serious scars and atm I can't genuinely say what I find attractive in men and name it, but I know its still there deep down.

One thing I have noticed is that I tend to lean more towards blond haired blue eyed men, that trend has continued in the incredibly unhinged celebrity crush that is Austin fucking BUTLER in looks as well as personality. Ya wanna get a fair idea of what I find attractive in men? *holds up sign of austin's face and points* THIS.

Not just attractive visually (which is not a be all end all with me, as long as the guy is respectable and treats me right I dont CARE what they look like). But humble, respectable, down to earth and not a big meat head alpha male douche bag. Someone I can have genuine conversations with, that I can relate to and see the good side of them through any of the shyness or nervous tendencies.

GOOD MEN. GOOD FOOD. NUF SAID

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

I think a lot of people don’t know how to handle a show growing up along with them.

People debate at length or talk about how they stopped watching shows at certain points because it lost its innocence.

This happened especially with Buffy. A lot of people managed through the college years but fell off soon after, others left with Joyce’s death or with Buffy’s resurrection.

And it’s fine, the show was made with the ability to stop watching at the end of about any season and be relatively content. And when I was a teenager I hated the seasons post high school, because they went into topics I had no real way to relate to or understand on a personal level. Now as an adult though to see Buffy struggle with adulthood it’s a total fucking mood but also so much more.

Buffy is a superhero and people tend to want to see superheroes as shiny and happy and perfect and strong. Buffy is a character who was told before she turned 18 she would die as most slayers have before her because they seldom lived into their 20s. She threw herself into being a slayer more and more because it was expected of her and she slowly began to realize that maybe she couldn’t ever be normal as she had hoped.

She didn’t get summer jobs, she couldn’t date boys at school, being a cheerleader or joining a sports team, sleepovers and dances became something she struggled with or had to literally fight to enjoy for a single second. College was something she wasn’t prepared for in the least and it was an early warning about how in no way is this character prepared for the adult world.

The creepy asshole she has sex with was a walking red flag. A lot of girls would have known he just wants a one night stand or a sexual thing, but Buffy didn’t. Her only experience with sex and dating and love was Angel; a vampire who was over a hundred years old who wanted to devote his very existence to loving her. She never really casually dated or had a sloppy makeout session with some dude. So for her she assumes this guy she has met cares about her, that he wants to pursue a romance with her, but he doesn’t and it leaves her feeling violated and confused.

This is the first sign we really have that the show no longer has training wheels and we are moving away from a campy story about a teen juggling classes and saving the world. We are now seeing what does a hero do when they aren’t saving the world?

We see her struggle with bills and payments and home repairs and upkeep, making sure she can keep custody of her teen sister, making funeral arrangements, trying to find a job she both qualifies for but also can pay enough to cover bills. We see the shit that you often don’t see in these stories and I think a lot of people were uncomfortable with the reality of it.

The same issue came with shows like Steven Universe, once Steven is a teen, once he’s about 16 and we get stories where he’s angry about the childhood he was robbed of, when he finds out about all the physical trauma he’s endured in fights that once seemed light and magical now drag in a sense of crushing reality and this darkness seeps in that we are watching a traumatized teen who is realizing he isn’t normal and never will be. He won’t ever graduate high school or go off to college with his friends and he can’t pursue a career due to lack of education and there is a fear of being abandoned by his friends due to this. He frantically proposes to his closest friend because he needs somebody, he is scared of her leaving and him being alone.

I love these stories and I love watching them grow and change, because even if at the time you don’t relate to it there will come a point where you re watch these seasons and episodes and have a better understanding of the characters and the struggles they are going through.

[goldkirk]

March 13, 2018

TW: PTSD episodes, traumatic memories, dissociation, death, murder, natural disasters etc etc frankly there’s just a lot. This whole thing was a vent I think I wrote while avoiding sleep. You don’t need to read this, I’m just posting it here as more evidence in my collection of how the past used to be for me. I’m okay about this now, and I’m just posting it for reference. Please don’t read this if it might be triggering for you. It’s very first-person and fast-paced.

Poem:

I launch awake in sweat, I am

sweat, my sheets are sweat, my blankets are sweat, I am soaked head to toe with hot sweat and my blankets are chaining me and I do not know

who I am and all I know is confusion and fear and I have vaulted out of the bed and onto my face before I even know that I am awake.

I have no idea who I am or where I am, it's dark,

and I don't know what is happening, I stumble into my wall

and I am hot.

I am suddenly up the basement stairs and tripping over the living room couch on my way to nowhere, I don't know where I am, I don't know who I am. All I know is I'm somehow awake, I am moving, and I feel like the world has ended and everything has crashed down around me in ruin and I feel

like I am not alive.

My mind is trying to piece together what I am, what has happened, what time is it where am I, I'm at home, oh,

there's my mom, there's my dad.

I don't remember anything I don't know what happened why does this all feel so wrong?

I think I died

while in my dream.

That is

the only explanation I can find for how I feel, to wake up like this,

I feel

like I did not exist. I had blinked out. There was terror and I

did not even know my own name for the first minute after waking up,

I didn't realize I was alive for seven awful seconds and

it must be hours after I went to bed right, oh lord God please what is happening to me it's

1:27 in the morning.

this hasn't happened since Junior year of high school when I

was a camp counselor,

when I was in a sleeping bag at night in

someone else's living room with all my peers and

was woken up for the night vigil shift I'd signed up for and didn't know my name.

I didn't know I existed I didn't know I wasn't floating in a void

suddenly things were real and I was trying to catch up with whatever the hell just happened and somehow

I'm expected to form coherent sentences to

reassure the 16 year old next to me that

no I'm fine. I don't need an ambulance, I just

maybe need my soul to come back to my body?

Can you tell me please, who am I.

I launch awake from a dream

I can't remember, but in it I die.

It's not as terrifying as my lucid dreams of

that one genocide that lasts

the whole night. or that

time where I watch my nephews and nieces get

shot one by one and I can't help,

And I watch my family die and

I can't stop the train crash or

the volcano or the pain

and I watch everyone I cannot save

die a thousand times this year but

at least when I wake up I know my own name.

Sometimes,

I die in my dreams, but it's not pretty,

its not poetic I don't know what I can say about it, it's just, I'm gone. I wake up

and don't remember I'm alive.

I don't know what my point is

in this poem. I mostly need to scream.

I just

forgot what it was like to die in my sleep, I guess,

and I wish I could remember, just

once, how it happened.

[sweetkakashihatake47]

https://www.tumblr.com/sweetkakashihatake47/718638846176280576/ok-i-honestly-dont-know-whether-to-ship-ss-or

Hello!

I read your post in the link above and I have totally your same thoughts. I would like to share with you something I’m thinking about recently. I really wanted Kakashi and Sakura end up together, but unfortunately I think that Kishi always had the sasusaku pair in his mind. I think he made this decision from page 1, I have never had any hope actually for narusaku too. It was too obvious from the start that the pairs would be Sasusaku and Naruhina. I’m not a teenager so for someone like me who have been watching anime for long time that was easily predictable. What Kishi didn’t expect is that Kakashi became more popular then the others maybe, and many of us are more interested in him than Sasuke for example. I don’t hate Sasuke at all. I can say that I’m indifferent to that character, he never catches my interest. I don’t know why. But let’s suppose even for a moment Kishi had in mind the Kakasaku otp, don’t you think it is quite sad to give Kakashi just an unrequited love after all he have been through? That’s why even if I would like a lot that Kakashi loves Sakura, canonically I think this could not be possible. Maybe Kishi wanted just showing us Kakashi trying his best to put together Sasuke and Sakura in order to help them to realize their love, the one he could not realize with Rin.

Of course this will not stop me to ship them because I really love them together, and actually I prefer that Kakashi remains single at this point, their bond is so special and nobody can take away this from me. In Boruto they are trying to give Sasusaku a happy end with romantic scenes. It doesn’t work with me but as lots of fun ship them it is working commercially. And I really hope they won’t marry Kakashi off for fan service. What do you think about my thoughts? Thank you.

Hi Anon,

thanks for your honest thoughts about this subject! And I love to answer to your question.

1.))The way Kakashi in the end "roots" for Sasuke and Sakura ..I have the very same thoughts as you have. Kakashi is happy ..if others around him are happy! Many believe that Kakashi did not love Rin back then .when they were young. Well...he never says to her such things ...instead ..he just says to her ..that he does not deserve her ..because he turned her down for the mission to complete. I rather have come to the conclusion ..that he might have had feelings for her ...but dumped it ..when he came to know of Obitos feelings towards Rin. The circumstances at that time were not the best for romantic relationships. Him "rooting" for Sasuke and Sakura ...is a clear sign for me personally ..that he compensates through their relationship ...what he ultimaterly never could have experienced. Its something like the obsession with Icha Icha ..its a compensating mechanism ...that Kakashi shows there. Sometimes I even think of ..that Kakashi just knows ..that for himself he chooses the single life ...because its in some way easier. We all know that he hates to take responsibility.And that he took the seat for the 6th Hokage is all thanks to Obito ..and that at that time there was no other candidate who would fit into that role. With the Hokage seat he took a huge amount of responsiblities. That is the canon version of it. For me ...it was never that clear from the beginning..that SasuSaku would ever happen. Sasuke always has seen Sakura as the female comrade. He was willing to team up with her and Naruto ..but thats that! He was always fine with ...being alone! Of course we see that he is highly traumatized ..and misses his parents ...and his whole clan ..but that is no surprise either. He has always chosen to be ..alone. That is also canon. It feels as if SasuSaku is a big fanservice! It feels incredible forced. In Boruto Sasuke still chooses loneliness over his family.If it were for him alone ..I feel he would never have wanted to be ...in a relationship. Did Sakura gain what she wished for? No. Its the opposite. Mostly ...she was alone ..all this years. still ...she is left alone in Boruto. I see no particular character growth when it comes to her. That is also canon. For me persoanlly they are not considered husband and wife....because they never had the officlal marriage contract. For me ...SasuSaku is the irony pairing ..because in my opinion ...as it seems to me Sakura is confusing fear for love. Of course she likes Sasuke ..because he is cool ..and so on. But ...its her fear of loosing him again ..him leaving her ...that draws her to him ..and fear is simply not love. You rather clamp on someone ...if you are afraid of loosing them again ..and that is what she does. The irony is ..that she gets what she feared the most. And its rather ironic ..and I am not that convinced at all ..that Kishi actually had this in mind with them both. I find it interesting ..that the Naruto verse is so ....realistic. A young girl who is clinging to that young cool good looking boy ...and he is rejecting her ...again and again and she is rather forcing herself unto him. To me ...SasuSaku pairing is the irony pairing ...and I feel that Kishi rather had mixed feelings about them both. He could have made their pairing successful from the start ..but ..they both seem not happy at all ..in my opinion. Its rather as if ...Kishi ..did the fanservice ...but its not that ..over all happy life for them both. In many aspects ...Kakashi sees himself in Sasuke....but ...they have chosen different ways to cope with their traumatic past. While Sasuke still ...prefers to be alone ...Kakashi always has sought the closeness to friends and comerades. We can see a little 5 year old Kakashi ...who plays with his comerades ...Rin and Obito and others ...street soccer ...and so on. Yes ...after loosing so many important people in his life ...Kakashi has also chosen ..the lonely path.

[dicktozier]

I'm rambling about Daryl Dixon and romance ... what year is it?

I have had some serious time with my man Daryl, since I have actively watched TWD since 2012 (except for a small hiatus last year where I didn't finish the show bc I didn't want it to end lol but I recently did finish and its all I think about now)

I have always thought that Daryl was a queer character. If you know the character, you know what I mean by him having those signs of being queer ... constantly thinking of himself as an outsider ... being drawn to friendships with women ...

I thought that in canon, it made the most sense for him to be ace? Every person he's formed a strong bond with, it's been platonic, when plenty of other romantic couples on the show have formed from much less.

I also remember something about Norman thinking that Daryl just has zero game and would be very awkward about romance. 😆 Which I agree with.

This kind of thing has also lead me to think that he could have internalized homophobia, where he's never really acted on his feelings for the same sex.

I have also thought that maybe he was just physically abused so much as a child that he couldn't stand that idea of being touched.

Which are like both very sad reasons that he's never had romance.

With or without Daryl being queer being the case, Leah was such a mistake on the writers part. I don't know what they were thinking with that shit. Why would they give Daryl romance after all that time only for him to have to kill her for shock value? Like was he not traumatized enough? Have we not done enough to him? For him to be THAT vulnerable with someone and then that all happened with the reapers ... give me a damn break writer's room.

I never saw it as necessary for Daryl to have a romance on the main show. I can understand that people did want that, and pressed for that, (especially when it comes to Carol, since he is clearly the closest to her out of anyone ever).

Now that he has his own show, and we are delving even more deeply into him ... still exploring the world, but he is the ACTUAL main character with the damn show named after him, I could be more open to the idea. I understand the show likely isn't going to make him queer.

I have TOTALLY written rp threads and fics with Daryl in relationships (even sexual ones) that take place in the canon timeline. I have fantasized and daydreamed about him having a boyfriend. I think he's had a strong bond with Aaron. I just like the idea of him being with Jesus, (though I could make a list of their couple of canon interactions of WHY lmao - its fine).

I know from experience of r0leplaying in The Walking Dead fandom back in the day that people are protective and wild over their ships ... especially when it comes to Daryl ... not that I have too many followers now ... especially TWD peeps.

Beth and Connie are Daryl's biggest m/f ships other than him and Carol, and I ... guess I get it, but also Do Not.

I don't actively participate in shipping Daryl and Carol, I do understand why people do. If he and Carol do end up being endgame, I will probably root for it. Wanna make it clear, even though it ain't my OTP, whatever makes Daryl happy I am here for it. He really does deserve that happy ending.

[fanficwriter284]

Because Urhighness…

“Charles”

“…What McKenzie…What do you want now”

“…Look I need you to take my son out for a couple of days…Just do something with him”

“Why?”

“Because……he can’t be at home for a few days…”

“…Why….”

“Why are you asking so many questions Charles, it’s not like I barge into your head personal life”

“…You do that on a daily basis…you know what fine whatever…just leave”

“Here, Urhighness here’s your bag, it’s got all the things you need. Ok BYE”

“Bye Mom…SO! Mr. Reinhardt! Hello there”

“….Hello Urhighness…”

The boy forced himself into the Ray home and sat and Chucky’s couch, resting his feet on the small table where mugs usually sat.

“So, what do you have in store Mr. Reinhardt”

Chucky could feel a vein in the side of his skull begin to pulse, and throb. He regretted allowing the boy into his home. Realizing Chuck was not going to respond he carried on the one sided conversation.

“So where is everyone?”

“…Tiffany is with the Twins and Gloria, and Chelsea’s upstairs with her friend Benny…”

“….oh Chelsea’s here…great….”

“Dad we were wondering if….what the hell is he doing here?”

“My mother dropped me off…I assume the boy next to you is Benny”

Chelsea instinctively grabbed his hand, causing the boy to blush and Chucky to raise a brow.

“Yes this is Benny”

“H—Hi”

Chucky continued watching his daughter hold the boys hand, feeling his pupils dilate as he did. Shedding a sigh of relief once she let go.

“Everyone just…Relax…You know what…how about we go hunting? Everyone pack a bag…we’ll be out for a few hours.”

“Hunting?”

“…yeah….a good ol hunt always calms the nerves”

…

The four of them set out, carrying packs on their packs. Benny carrying a riffle, Chelsea a freshly sharpened blade, and Urhighness stumbling around struggling not to twist an ankle, carrying a riffle as well.

“AHHH”

“It’s a leaf, relax”

“….”

“God I should have brought ear plugs”

…

“So Mr. Reinhardt you’re a hunter?”

“You could say that…”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters”

“I have three”

“I’m talking about biological”

“…one”

Chelsea fell silent, curious to hear what her father had to say. It was rare for him to mention her late uncle.

“Where is he?”

“Six feet under”

“…”

“…oh…sorry”

“…Just forget about it…come on let’s keep moving”

Benny stood right beside Chelsea and jolted feeling something brush up against his leg, wrapping his arms around her. Chelsea turned to him blushing signing to him it was okay as they continued down the muddy trail. Feeling the squishy mud, slush under their boots. All of them came to a swift halt seeing Chuck raise his hand. Pointing at a young buck, that had been sharpening its antlers agains an oak tree. The bark slowly being eroded away with each jerk of its head.

“There”

The the four slowly approached the the buck enclosing on it.

“Now…whatever you do don’t…”

With a frighted yell Urhighness raised the firearm and fired, missing the deer. The buck bolted leading to the redheads to run after it.

"God fucking damn it"

Before the redhead could scold another boom broke the air, and a loud thump followed. Chucky whipped his head around seeing Benny lowering his weapon with an uneasy look spread across his face.

"Look dad! Benny shot it!"

Chuck gave a satisfied smiled raising a thumbs up towards the two of them and collected the buck, holding it by the antlers.

"Nice one"

"..."

"What's wrong with you? Never seen a dead deer before?"

".......D--Did you have to kill it?"

"Lighten up, death's the effect to life...only difference is that we ended this one's quicker"

"........"

...

Few Days Later

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SHOW MY SON! THE POOR BOY IS TRAUMATIZED"

"...The circle of life..."

"..."

[cyanocoraxx]

I jus wanna say that I've read thru all yur fics like..a while ago and haven't gotten the chance to say it until now - but I absolutely love how you portray metal and the others. I've read and reread every fic a couple times and auug just...wow is what I have to say

I stumbled upon the fic with Metal like hiding in the dark first about..a few weeks ago? But reading everything afterwards got me through a pretty tough time, the stuff you write is such a pleasant specific in exactly what I want to read about and I thought I'd never find it but I did! And I'm so glad it exists too :] I'll have to read through everything again and give more in depth compliments but I love love love how you show each character dealing with their problems and how some things persist even though they're out of it happening further, even through that all they're managing it the best they can and they're helping eachother with the stuff they struggle with [i.e silvers ear, mechas sight, neo being mute]

I love how they all have their own ways of showing affection towards their siblings too, the way Neo quietly lingers and watches to Silvers jokes its just auaughhg such a breath of fresh air

I DO wanna ask though it was in my head I think in chapter 16?? or so of Damage, where Neo is apologising to the badniks - was one of those responses a reference to Whirl by any chance? It me stop for a second when I read it hshshsh / pos

okay firstly i'm so very sorry for the late reply, you sent this 4 days ago and i was at WORK for 4 days and wanted to take the time to sit down and respond properly <3

thank you. i can't say it enough so just imagine that i'm on my knees sobbing with the biggest eyes right now because the fact that you took time to send such a lovely message is so uplifting and just EPIC..........

in regards to the pleasant specific thing, a lot of the things i covered/cover in my stories are things i see not being addressed in others and i want to try offering something that isn't discussed as often or as in depth as it should be. i often find that, in many stories, a character struggles with a personal issue, disability, or other hardship and then some hero comes along and makes it all just fine or is able to hold their hand through it 24/7. reality doesn't work that way and i wanted to reflect that in a lot of ways.

yes, neo can speak to mecha in their coded language, but not to other beings without sign, which not everyone understands either. being able to speak to mecha is a plus, but it doesn't make neo's life easier. it's frustrating. it's isolating. it means they may need to depend on mecha sometimes. but when it works out and someone can communicate with them freely, it really works out, and there's that spark of hope and community. silver is deaf in one ear and can compensate in some ways, but it trips him up spatially and internally as it should. mecha's ptsd comes up a lot, as it should - yes, mecha has a support system in her family, but nobody can outright "cure" her trauma. it's something she will carry with her, some days are better than others. silver's grief at experiencing loss at a young age isn't fixed by having his brothers come home safe again. it was traumatic and frightening for a young being like him, and that's something that changed his outlook on life and mortality. he was comparatively lucky that neo was able to be repaired, and he knows that. he feels strong empathy for anybody who lost someone who just. can't come back. then we have the other side, which is mecha's lack of empathy and initial emotional flattening. a lack of empathy doesn't mean a lack of compassion and i wanted/needed to explore this. mecha is undeniably one of the kindest characters i created and she can't feel the depth of emotion that others do. wanted to challenge the notion that a lack of empathy means you're inherently a bad person, because by all accounts, mecha wants to do what is right and good and makes sense. neo's psychosis lingers and he worries about coming out of remission. silver's adhd-like mind moves fast and with emotion. MANY THINGS!!!

i love so so much that you picked up on the different kinds of affection as well, it made me VERY happy and i did a little dance to myself!!!!! silver is very physical and verbal, neo is very protective and banters, and mecha tries to understand by speaking and listening closely.

and YES. i fucking love whirl. i don't remember the exact refs i made when writing but there's a couple of transformers bits here and there.

writing the original fic was a long process. i originally started back when i lived in a phsyically/emotionally/financially/you name it-abusive home. i had just come out of a months-long psychotic break caused by the stress, discovered i was a system, all that fun stuff. through the course of the fic i escaped, lived with a few different friends in different cities, went thru the whole trans coming out thing, and by the last chapter i was sitting in my own home with my pet rats on my lap and we were all safe and happy - with c-ptsd, scars, and other shit still with us, but we were finally okay. it really was like coming home and it was the perfect time for the story to end. i think, in a way, writing the brothers pulled me through and to hear that it's helped others is so lovely. i'm so glad. i hope you feel better, and if not, stay resilient, be kind to yourself, always. my inbox is always open. <3

[rebrandedstoryline]

Rebranded - 15.4 - Records Disclosed

Refer to previous segments. Dark content ahead.

As per Logan’s instructions, Ayala was left upstairs to rest. In addition, he asked that the animatronics help him clean up the mess that she had gotten herself into. The animatronics agreed, but at a price.

Logan would need to tell them exactly what was going on.

They needed to know what had caused this abrupt decline in Ayala’s mental health and they needed to know why.

This was not a request, but a demand. If they were to be her personal care bots, then they would need to know these things in order to properly provide that care.

Still, there was a reluctance to discuss the issue at hand.

Whatever the issue was, it clearly extended its effects to the man.

“Look. It’s not my place to disclose the details.” Logan uttered, attempting to avoid the subject. He and the animatronics set out to remove all of the photographs that had been hung up on the walls.

“Yet it’s your place to hold onto medication vital to her care.” Moon responded, his voice sour and stern. He was in no mood to have the subject avoided and brushed off. Not after having spent the past half a week actively attempting to help Ayala. He did not like how the event had played out. He was concerned and he was angry. Angry about not being able to help and angry about being denied the ability to help. While Sun might have chosen less aggressive means of pulling information out of the man, Moon would not be so docile. The information was considered vital at this point. “We have no idea what has gone wrong, or why. She was doing fine, mentally and physically, until a few days ago. Had we not been able to reach you, we would have been forced to contact medical professionals. I would prefer to not have to resort to those extremes. I’m sure you would also prefer to avoid dealing with this scenario again. Whatever information you have, disclose it.” He explained, making it clear why it was that he and his twin would be in need of this information.

What followed was a rather tense silence.

Logan seemed nervous. Either afraid of Moon, or afraid of discussing these weirdly taboo matters. If it was the former, then it could not be helped. At this point, the nighttime attendant had completely given in to his emergency protocols. He was worried about Ayala, and that scared him, because he had been actively going out of his way to keep from getting emotionally invested in her.

Thankfully, Logan eventually relented.

“Alright, fine. But you discuss none of this with her unless she brings it up. Understood?” Logan stated. He allowed them only a brief moment to respond. They nodded, confirming that they accepted his terms.

A tired sigh escaped him as he stopped to stare at one of the many photographs that had been hung up on the wall. One depicting a younger Ayala with an even younger child. He quickly pulls the picture off of the wall, seemingly bothered by it.

“Listen, it’s a very complicated story. So I’m just going to try and make this short and sweet.” Logan stated, taking the photograph to put it away. He tucked it safely within the confines of the Sad box. “A little over a decade ago, Ayala lost her sister. It was a very traumatic event for her. Insanely traumatic. She had a mental breakdown that resulted in a lot of psychological problems.” He explains, turning back to stare at the now empty space on the wall. Two small screws stick out of the drywall. He began to try and twist them out. “Anything that reminds her of it acts as a sort of trigger. The more triggers she encounters, the worse it gets… When she’s not around them, she’s grand. She’s normal... So long as no one tries talking about it. But that fucking box-” He cut himself off abruptly as he turned away from the wall. He had briefly started to lose control of his voice.

Signs of an impending outburst were detected. Heightened levels of anger and agitation. He was leaving out the specifics as he spoke, but clearly he was still recalling said specifics. He wiped around his mouth, seemingly trying to compose himself.

“Everything. All of her triggers were in that box. And I knew - I just fuckin knew that I should have double checked with her! To make sure that she didn’t rush this! That she didn’t try to pull everything out and force herself to face everything all at once!...” Logan practically hisses these words as he speaks, ushering the animatronics along to start getting the other pictures off of the wall. “But I second guessed myself… I convinced myself to back out of it, because she’s been doing so well. She’d made so much progress! And now because I didn’t follow my gut, we’ve probably just lost everything.” He rambled a bit, both explaining what had gone wrong and establishing why he was so upset.

He was angry. But he wasn’t angry at her, or at Sun, or at Moon.

He was angry with himself, because he feared that this exact situation might take place, but he ignored the risks.

Still, his explanation left too much room for interpretations. Logan was leaving out the specifics. But they needed to be given those specifics. No matter how horrible they might be.

How else would they be able to properly care for Ayala?

“When you say she lost her sister. What do you mean?..” Sun inquired, his voice quiet and tentative.

He was having ideas. None of them were good. None of them were pleasant. He was actually afraid of having those ideas confirmed.

Logan’s expression gave everything away on the spot. To the point that he almost didn’t need to verbally verify anything.

“She was murdered.” Logan uttered, the word leaving him as more of a bitter growl than as actual speech. A tired sigh then passed his lips as he abruptly sat down on the ground, the exhaustion of the situation fully settling in. “I used to be a police officer... I was assigned to the case. It was supposed to be a run of the mill event. Little girl gets abducted from school. We track the perp down and get the kid back home. I’d done it all before. Multiple times…” He explained, apparently intent on giving the animatronics all of the horrific details that needed to be given. “Ayala came in for questioning. She was hysterical. I promised her that I’d get her sister home safe… That kid was the only family she had left. But I overestimated my abilities, and I underestimated how vile people could be.” He added, fidgeting in place as he spoke. He was very obviously struggling to disclose these details. Struggling to expose these wounds; to reveal that he had failed in the worst possible way. “Everything went wrong. We had practically nothing to work with. The guy never left any ransom note, he never tried to reach out to arrange an exchange. He just took the kid and disappeared.” He mutters, reaching to anxiously scratch his forehead. “We had to dig real deep to find our lead. We had to rake Ayala and everyone she associated with over the coals. It was a whole fucking fiasco. It took four days to narrow down the suspects. Another four to finally piece together where they’d gone... By then, it was already too late.” He states, before standing back up. He began to pace about.

The animatronics could do nothing but remain silent and listen as he gave them all of these horrible, horrible details.

“It was like walking into a fucking slaughter house.” Logan stated, his voice laced with malice. “That girl left the building in pieces. We couldn’t even find all of her…” He abruptly punched the wall, startling the animatronics.

Moon immediately became tense, seemingly preparing to have to deal with a hostile event. But Logan made no further move to be violent. He simply lent against the wall.

“That bastard... That sick, fucking, freak, waited until we’d turned up. He called Ayala and told her she could come get her sister. You can only imagine what it does to someone's mind when they turn up at an active crime scene, thinking they’re about to be reunited with their loved ones, only to find them all over the building…” The man uttered, pushing himself back off of the wall as he turned back to face the animatronics. He cast them a dead, bitter look, seemingly plagued by his own memories as he rambled. “She broke. She broke and there was nothing I could do to fix it. God knows I’ve tried. God knows I tried to be there. I tried to protect her. But it only got worse from there.” He explained, locking eyes with Moon as he spoke.

The animatronic found himself feeling a peculiar connection at that moment. A connection that he couldn’t quite place.

“I promised her that everything would go off without a hitch, when it came time for her to testify. But the goddamned prosecutor tore her apart when she went up on the stand! They tried to make it out to be her fault. Tried to make it out like she’d somehow arranged for her sister to be butchered! Every disgusting angle they could take, they took it...” Logan stated, before abruptly going silent.

He appeared as though he were in deep thought. Tears had begun welling in his eyes as he spoke, the memories just as painful for him as they must have been for Ayala. He clearly felt guilty. Guilty for not being able to save Ayala’s sister. Guilty for not being able to protect Ayala. Guilty for having failed her again.

“That’s... Horrible...” Moon uttered, a serious and bitter tone having overtaken his voice. He was admittedly a bit stunned by all of this information. So was Sun.

A similar sort of guilt crept into him as he processed all of these details. An uncomfortable guilt, at that. He had been genuinely unkind to Ayala throughout his time here, because he didn’t trust her. Because in his mind, she never could have understood what he and Sun had been put through.

He had effectively been slapped in the face with proof that established otherwise.

Different as their traumas were, the agony was quite the same. The pain of loss. The burden of the guilt; of the blame. Made to believe that the fault was on them, when the reality was that they had simply been pawns left to suffer at the hands of monsters.

Not just Ayala, either. In that moment, Moon had developed a sense of kinship with Logan. Their pain was not dissimilar. A guilt associated with failure to protect someone who had depended on them.

Moon with his inability to keep Sun safe, and lumping them with the burden of his manipulation. Logan, with his inability to save a life he had promised to save, and his inability to protect the person that he had already failed.

[cagedchoices]

RELATIONSHIP META - CALEB & UWADE

In canon, Caleb first met Uwade while he was recovering in the hospital following surgery for a near-fatal gunshot wound to his abdomen. I've estimated the time he spent comatose to be about 5 weeks max, but it's possible it was a bit less than that. In a memory Caleb has during Fidelity, we learn that Uwade was the first person who saw him after he woke up and she checked over his vital signs. She began to flirt with him and from there they eventually fell in love.

Given what context we have, I headcanon that Uwade got pregnant before they were married and then Caleb married her once they found out they were expecting. It's the most logical explanation I can see for why their last conversation together happened the way it did.

We don't know anything about Caleb's father so I kinda just assume he was never in the picture and that it's a source of insecurity for Caleb because there's always going to be a what-if question that can't be answered; What if he's just like that? As well as he gets another dose of that same insecurity because his mom was mentally ill and abandoned and forgot about him, and there's the fear of what if he winds up doing the same thing to Frankie?

UWADE: So you're leaving. CALEB: Only for a little while. UWADE: You promised you'd be a father. CALEB: I am one... Everything I do is for you...and for Frankie. UWADE: You're gonna get yourself killed. CALEB: Hey, I will come back to you. I promise.

There also seemed like there was a touch of maybe-jealousy from Uwade toward Maeve, just in the way that Uwade was watching her from the bedroom window while Maeve was loading her SUV and getting ready to leave. She already knew that Caleb would jump at the chance to team up with Maeve again and go fight.

Uwade doesn't understand Caleb's trauma struggles. Her approach to helping him manage his PTSD is basically just to tell him move on and stop worrying, and that's the most un-constructive advice you could ever give to a trauma survivor. She treats it like he doesn't have anything to be depressed or anxious about solely because he has a family, a house and a job and it should be enough. She also calls him paranoid, and acts like he is consciously choosing to stay traumatized.

In the past, Caleb was often told he needed to move on without ever actually being given the tools or the freedom to actually learn how to move on and genuinely heal, because by design he wasn't supposed to. He was in a therapy program that insisted the goal was getting him to move on, but they never actually did anything other than tell him "you gotta move on."

Caleb's instinctive response to that is to sort of shut down and refuse to talk about it any further. There's no point. No one really understands except for others who have seen war up close and personal. And that was the purpose in isolating him further and further until the system predicted there would come a point where that feeling of hopelessness would reach its absolute limit and he would take his own life because of it.

When Caleb first leaves, Uwade definitely seems to feel resentful toward him specifically, such as when she found Frankie using the radio to try and make contact with him.

UWADE: Frankie, what are you doing out here? I told you we need to go back and pack. FRANKIE: I'm trying to reach Dad. UWADE: Come on, let's go inside. FRANKIE: No. I'm staying. UWADE: Carver, do you mind helping me bring some of this stuff back inside?

She didn't really acknowledge Frankie's explanation or her feelings of concern, she just went to picking stuff up, starting with Frankie's teddy bear. Later on, Frankie's sitting out on the patio and sulking, and Uwade again kind of ignores her concerns.

FRANKIE: I don't wanna go with him. I want daddy. UWADE: I know, but your father can't be here right now. So he sent Carver to help. FRANKIE: He got Bear-Bear dirty. UWADE: Fine. If you won't pack your things, then I will.

After Frankie discovers that the real Carver has been murdered and replaced by a host copy and alerts her mom with proof, this attitude changes drastically, and Uwade steps up for Caleb in a huge way.

She becomes the leader of the resistance and makes it her mission to free as many outliers as she can from Hale's world before they're hunted and killed.

UWADE: You were so brave today. You reminded me of your father. He really would've been proud. FRANKIE: It's almost time. UWADE: Go. Tell him I love him.

She doesn't ignore or invalidate Frankie's feelings this time, she tells her that she is so much like her father and that Caleb would've been so proud of her if he was around. She lets Frankie try to establish radio communications with him, even though I think she figures he had to have been killed to be kept away from them for so long.

For Caleb, when Frankie tells him what happened to Uwade, it's a harsh blow for his cognition and it threatens to destabilize him even faster than he's already breaking down. His hands are shaking so badly he's having trouble threading a needle.

FRANKIE: You can ask, you know. CALEB: Ask about what? FRANKIE. Mom... Cancer. Wouldn't have mattered even if you had made it back. She hung in there for as long as she could... She had a mission. Everyone that wasn't infected, or who woke up and got out, owes that to mom. She carried your torch. CALEB: Your mother was...extraordinary. FRANKIE: So were you.

But then he's able to center himself using the love he has for his family. Uwade may be long gone physically, but her memory lives on through his own recollection and more importantly, through Frankie.

[xxmourningdove666xx]

if this escapes my circle im live streaming my suicide but sometimes seeing body positivity posts hurts so much??? like, here's the thing, i know in the grand scheme of things despite my body dysmorphia im thin, sure i have a high-ish bmi but its fine... i think? i dunno- i wanna lose weight but im trying to keep off that because im already struggling with eating properly lmao- but any time i see a post thats like "oh being fat/gaining weight isnt a moral issue" i cant help but think "oh well yeah no duh- i know exactly whatcha mean" but in understanding what ppl mean by that it feels so... weird when it is a moral issue in my head??? and dont get me wrong, this is absolutely one of those things thats like "oh well go to therapy abt it" and yeah, yeah i know, im working through this mentality, but it just,,, sucks that i feel weirdly ashamed admitting that a body type is something i very much associate with ppl who have traumatized me and idk- its sad ig? like its one of those things that you cant really work through because first you have to express a fucked up thought that makes you feel like maybe you should kill yourself rather than admit because surely this is a sign youre a bad person? but idk- im just having a whole relapse when it comes to my silly lil eating disorder cuz ill never be free lmao

[chaosdisorganized]

I'm a nurse aide, not a punching bag

[magicdonuts-supreme]

TW: past abuse. abandonment issues. self-doubt. intrusive thoughts. self-hate statments that S/I believes but are not true. trust issues (kinda). 750+ words.

— - + - —

You had exposed yourself to your F/O. You showed them your raw, emotional, troubled self… but they were still here. Something in your mind doesn’t fit right, panic rising as it washes over the euphoria you had experienced alongside your beloved under their tender care.

Because they were there.

Why hadn’t your F/O left? Why had they stayed so long? So many had abandoned you by this point, why don’t they? Is there an endgame to this? You are a freak, a horror, a traumatized lump of human flesh… You’ll poison them… Why can’t they just see that and leave already? (Not to mention the other side of your raging mind: the one on its knees, the one that grovels and begs and dehumanizes itself into a living joke just to have another person give you a second of attention…)

Deep down, you know why the thoughts are there.

You are expecting abandonment.

Every moment your F/O welcomes you into their warm embrace oh-so cruelly, you know you’re falling further and further for them. But you can’t allow yourself to do that.

You are expecting abandonment.

So much so that you make a fool of yourself and show your most vulnerable sides to them and hope it wards your F/O off… because it’s easier to say that they left because of your actions than to wait a lifetime for them only to realize their absence is the only answer you’ll ever get.

You are expecting a—

“Love?”

You dry your tears against your shirt as discreetly as possible, red eyes darting to and fro—  anywhere away from your F/O’s. “…Yeah?” You cringe at the cracks in your own voice, How dare you not be able to hide this better? How dare you burden them?

Your F/O leans closer just the tiniest bit. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, lips pressed tight.

“C’mon, S/I, you’re underestimating me if you think I can’t notice when you’re upset.” They offer a reassuring smile, although it wavers as your guilty lack of response hangs in the still air. “… Just… I won’t force you, okay? But I know you aren’t feeling well, and that it’s not healthy to keep it all in like this.”

Your voice doesn’t disrupt the silence. A single syllable could break down the dam holding back your sobs, God, you’re a crybaby. You’re weak, pathetic.

“Hey, love, could you please look at me?”

Your line of sight wavers, yet it’s your F/O’s gentle hold and their warm gaze that attracts your own like a magnet’s fated pull.

“There you are,” they utter. “You never were, never are, and never will be a burden, S/I, I love you just as you are. This isn’t a punishment and I will never use it against you. I just want to make sure you’re alright… Like all of those times you did the same to me, ok?”

As calm and tender as they are, there are still signs of breakage in your F/O’s voice. They want to banish — perhaps even worse — whoever taught you those self-damaging beliefs in the first place, but your health comes first. When you’re tangled up in barbs of false promises and toxic love, all your F/O wishes to do is untangle you with a touch of silk and show you what warmth is like. They want to chase those swarms of bad thoughts away and kiss your forehead at night when they’re sure the only thing in your mind is soft dreams of carelessness when you finally let yourself feel safe in their arms.

Some time after their reassurances, your walls break— perhaps for the first time in front of them. Maybe it’s loud and messy whilst your F/O gathers you in their arms, or maybe your tears are silent until you succumb and press yourself against their chest.

And by the end?

“Can I ask you… something…?” You hesitate, doubt still plaguing that one place in your mind.

Your F/O places a kiss against your temple. “Always, love.”

“I mean…” Your gaze wanders off. “It’s a bit unnecessary, maybe even childish…”

“As long as it’s you? As long as you think it’s important and it matters to making you feel safe? It’ll never be unnecessary.”

“… Could you promise…?”

They nod and a small, wonderful smile graces their features. “You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving, S/I. I promise that I’ll always be here for you, that you’ll always be worth waiting for.”

[cmyknoise]

i like when ghostbur’s weird. hate when people portray him as incapable or make his selective amnesia like, his only character trait.  gonna ghostbur lovepost rq.

we had ghostbur for less time than wilbur has been revived and yet he had such a huge impact, especially on new l’manburg. but he was so fully capable in ways i don’t think people appreciate or comment on. 

when the first talk of exile sprung up, a few days before he was actually exiled, a stream ended with tommy talking with ghostbur. tommy opened up that he was sort of worried, but trusted tubbo, but he was worried about exile and the idea of being alone. 

ghostbur had told tommy that he didn’t understand what was going on, but if tommy was exiled he’d go with. he’d go with tommy anywhere. 

and that’s what he did. ghostbur is such an important part of exile, and was such a lingering threat that dream had felt the need to subtly try to kill ghostbur, just to get his hands alone on tommy. 

within the first 5 minutes of exile, ghostbur had tricked dream and kept all his tools, which he’d immediately used to help tommy start to gear up again. he built tommy shelter.

when tommy was feeling sad and low and defeated, ghostbur made sure to build him back up, cheer him up. 

ghostbur is very unique in he was with both tubbo and tommy’s side very frequently during this time, and then we got the compasses, something that would come up so much, and even be subtly referenced on doomsday. 

whenever ghostbur was around, he would give tommy confidence and the drive to get back up and keep working. the only reason dream let ghostbur there at first was because he didn’t see ghostbur as a threat- he was a dumb ghost! but then he had to lure ghostbur out to get lost in the snow, something that under low exposure was fine, but high exposure hurt him, just so tommy would be truly and utterly alone on his party, to frame ghostbur as forgetting to send the invitations, to make it seem like he didnt care. ghostbur was a threat. 

then you have the time when, despite not being the best liar (wilbur never has been), he looked dream in the face, not remembering or knowing the extent of what he’s done, just that clearly its hurt tommy so bad that dream is absolutely bad, something he’s never stopped believing since, and lied to his face. he told him he hadnt seen tommy, that tommy wasnt there, and shooed him away. 

he struggled, sure, but despite having absolutely nothing, no protection or gear, he stood up to him, because he knew it was to protect tommy, and because he was a bad person. 

then doomsday. ghostbur wasn’t present for most of it, but it was a traumatic event for him. wilbur has always seemed to have a rocky relationship with his father, his ghost was no different. ghostbur had no problem, after searching and screaming for friend, to track down who did it, philza, and lay it into him. 

he gave such an impactful speech, not that it mattered, but its one still quoted today, and it has become the voice of all the people, innocent people, hurt on doomsday. 

all the while in the period of new l’manburg, he did other things too. he’d had talks with tubbo about the values of l’manburg- trying to make him question if the direction he was heading was where he wanted to go- and it wasnt. he was there to help rebuild. he would speak to quackity, he would speak to eret. he spoke to eret quite a bit. he learned of the museum, he didnt remember what eret had done but eret was kind now, he forgave him. his interactions with fundy were rocky, but he’d realized that fundy needed a father, and was wholey willing to sign adoption papers and let eret adopt him (after a touching moment in pogtopia where he’d say that eret needs a good- better father when talking to himself. he’d forget all this, because it was hurtful to think about, but in the moment it was there). 

then he disappeared for awhile, reappeared after tommy’s death. 

(interesting to note, that around this time quackity had a lore stream where he’d spoken with glatt. glatt had said that ghostbur and ‘a kid who is constantly crying’ would come to his gym freqently for a little while.)

when tubbo had asked him where he’d gone, and why he was here- we didn’t get much of an answer for the first question, but he’d said he was there because someone told him about what happened to tommy, and that tommy needed him, he’d be there. 

ghostbur met michael! he thought he was cute, praised tubbo & ranboo as parents. he helped tommy feel safe again, once again there for him to try and heal. he helped build the tower, brought him items and food. 

then... you have the day of ghostbur’s death. 

ghostbur knows dream is bad. its something that, despite his selective amnesia about bad and sad things, it seems this is one of the few that make it through the cracks. 

he doesnt need to know the specifics. he knows that dream had ??? been bad to him in the past. he knows that dream has caused tommy and tubbo pain. he knows tommy gets panicky about him, and he agrees and knows that he needs to die. he trusts tommy. 

he goes with him to the prison. we learn interesting things here. things like how ghostbur has changed his name and asks sam if he can sign with that instead. 

they go through the motions, and well... we all know what happens to him. 

but it’s interesting, because not even in death does ghostbur become irrelevant. 

wilbur had said ghostbur’s story has ended there, at his death, but it honestly and really hasn’t.

on a meta standpoint, cc!wilbur has written drabbles about him on reddit, and will on occasion mention him in streams. he says he’s crying, suffering, numb, he remembers tommy vividly, he’s forgetting more and more of everything else. 

within the dream smp, tommy would continuously defend ghostbur to anyone who dared say anything hinting at negative about him, especially c!wilbur. he even built him a grave. he’d cared for friend until he was killed (not even letting friend around wilbur). he would bring him up often. 

c!wilbur does too. despite his distaste for wilbur, almost once a stream post his return, he’d mention his name. 

i think back to his speech in doomsday, and it’s a shame. he said it himself. he’s not meant to be the comic relief in the story. he’s not just a ghost with amnesia. he’s not just a silly goofy teehee guy with a sheep. 

he’s more, way more. for as long as he was around he was so tied up in everything that the impact he left is still here. and we only had him for 5 months, about 3-4 if you take away his disappearance, and wilbur had hardly streamed as ghostbur.

he’s a weird guy. a caring ghost who’s just as sly and cunning as he was when alive. was smart, he had hobbies, he could stand up for himself and fight, he could use his words, he was a threat to some of the most powerful people, willing to stand against them, he was the backbone to those who needed it. he was there.

he did a lot, a lot more than i ever see spoken about or given credit for.