#im not leaving without you

[novasjaneway]

Reading sevens personal logs

Look at how happy she is!

That smile in her eyes, that bounce in her step

Standing in the alcove that belongs to your new crew member is a perfectly platonic thing to do, I think, well maybe, I mean, it does carry the scent of her pheromones and maybe just standing in it is very soothing to you for some reason. Before she bolted you were having diplomacy talks with the aliens and totally wrapped up in getting a short cut through their space and you knew she was struggling and you were there for her but you had to be the captain too and then all of a sudden she is gone, warped gone and the look of devestation on your face as you stand on the bridge looking into blank space and feeling her absence, hit hard, hit so damn hard and standing in her alcove is all you want to do because maybe she isnt just a crew member to you afterall bc after you made a connection between her bird visions and the raven starship on which she was assimilated so long ago, you bounce onto the bridge with a smile to brighten the night sky and you can't help but be excited bc you know youre on her trail so when your first officer questions your order to search for federation ships in the area you cant help but wave him off and who cares about that short cut through space now or the battle youre creating with the aliens as you disregard their threats, youre only mission right now is to find her, beam her back home and when you finally get her back it's worth every effort spent and you are the happiest starship captain the federation ever lost track of.

You know she brought sevens personal log with her to the bridge, she still holding it, now that's love.

The captain and her wife.

@captainkatie42 had to revise!

[novasjaneway]

Ships getting deep man, breaches on all decks now god dammit I love this ship

Kate Mulgrew talking about Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine in the episode “Hope and fear”.

Captive. Captive. Captive.

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[lilybug-02]

Patience and responsibility....that's a promise....right?

Part 27 First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

An exorcism? In my family-friendly Deltarune? It's more likely than you may think. The backgrounds here were very interesting! Much more complex than how I usually do them (especially that computer).

Player POV:

Feral energy.

[iknowicanbutwhy]

The Universe gave Loop TWO hands for,, two Isas???

Get yo self a man who will duplicate himself not just to balance out the polycule, but also to sometimes give you THRICE the amount of attention

( @chipper-smol giving me cute ideas to draw )

[novasjaneway]

Hold your fire, theres a woman on that borg cube

Voyager’s standard first contact communique while traveling through the delta quadrant.

[randomfandomss]

PSALM 31:7

I am what God made me. And perhaps it is my difference that will make me useful. I think again of your sermon. I know what it is to exist between the world’s certainties

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[rowanisawriter]

fic is a safe space, probably one of the last safe spaces. by safe i mean safe from the pressure of caving to advertisers. you can write fic about anything and not worry (shouldn’t worry) about what’s popular or what an advertiser oriented algorithm will pick up. what i mean by this is that you don’t have to bring this advertiser friendly behavior into fic. heroes can make bad decisions, people can fall out of love, villains can win, villainous organizations can win, redemption doesn’t have to happen, etc. make things a little messy if you want to, because life can be messy and art is a reflection of life. not what the advertisers have decided for us life is like, real life. this is one of the last places where this is still possible

[slymanner]

God dude these two scenes and how roxie moves hurt my heart so so bad 🥹

it's like a mix of anger, feral, emotional breakdown, and complete sadness that just fucks me up soooo fucking bad.

it's like she's a pet who got abandoned by their owner but they see them again after years of sadness and depression of them being gone and leaving them like that and all that anger and sadness just manifest's into one bundle of emotion's towards them they cannot control.

roxie baby ur gonna be okay u deserve better :[

[novasjaneway]

The way janeway whispers sevens name all the time

...seven...

So breathy. So private. So infatuated. So much love.

[kinnsporsche]

it's always i love you and never "leave." "huh?" "i'll tell everyone that you died in the woods. so you can go back to your brother and get to open a bar just like you've always dreamed of." "why?" "i don't know. maybe because you'd sacrifice a hand for me. or maybe because i've crossed your line. or because i... i like it when you're happy. just leave. go now before i change my mind. just go! that's an order!"

[not-kayvalencourt]

Let's all put on our thinking caps and see that there is no actual evidence that iskall didn't do anything but his own word. There is, however, massive amounts of evidence that he did.

If you follow me and support iskall (or stress), unfollow me. The bullshit tantrum he just had and the amount of people there are supporting him is actually disgusting. If you genuinely believe him, you need to look up manipulation tactics. He is going to use his fame to get people to trust him, just like he did to his victims.

[spacedlexi]

"sounds nice... having a partner"

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when a character says the name of the episode

[nonranghaes]

heads up: feelings of abandonment + reader crying. food mentions. fic can be interpreted as purely platonic, if desired!

when did your apartment start to feel so cold? you weren't sure. but you pull out a hoodie from your dryer and pull it on, just to try and chase away the chill that won't leave you. today's been a shit day, and all you want to do is curl up in bed and sleep until it's over. but it's far too early for that, so you opt to try to take care of yourself instead.

which really just turns into you pulling a blanket over you on the couch and watching whatever seems interesting enough to hold your attention for a while. it takes barely five minutes into the first movie before you start to sniffle again, and you stop fighting it. hot tears run down your cheeks, and you just pull the blanket tighter around you.

is it so much to ask that someone chase you for once? to have someone check on you and make sure you're actually okay? instead, you get radio silence when you pull away from people. it makes you feel sick to your stomach. there's a swirling storm inside you of the knowledge that people can't help you if you don't say something, and the wish that people would realize you not saying anything was a cry in its own right. they've known you this long, haven't they? they know you hate reaching out, that you despise having to say 'hi, i'm struggling' and instead it feels like they've just stopped bothering with you. why bother with someone who won't pull themself out of their struggles enough to say something?

it feels like you're drowning in these feelings. every hiccup and attempt to catch your breath just sends you spiraling further, the weight of the world crushing you more and more. is it so wrong to want someone to reach out and say "i know things aren't okay. can we talk?" or even a "i'm here for you, i'm sorry life is hard now, just say the word and i'll be there, okay?" in some shape or form. it doesn't even have to be so elaborate. it just needs to be something--

someone knocks on your door. you swear under your breath, wiping at your face and hoping that whoever is on the other side won't question it too much. your neighbor's cat probably got out again. you stop on your way to the door, looking in a mirror to see what damage has been done by this sobbing fit. and when you feel a little more composed, you open the door.

"hey." seungcheol has one hand tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, the other holding a bag of takeout. "have you eaten yet?" he's dressed down, sweatpants and beanie and all. "i was in the neighborhood, and..."

he's lying. you know he is. you can see the label on the bag and this place is nowhere near where you live. but it's your favorite.

his gaze softens when he fully takes in the sight of you. "are you okay--"

he barely finishes the word before you dive forward, wrapping your arms around him as you bury your face in his hoodie. it makes you feel desperate in the worst way, but you're crying already and hiding your face from him makes you feel even a little better. but the feeling of seungcheol's arms wrapping around you feels even better, and he holds you protectively.

"i've got you," he says, and it feels like a promise.

maybe life isn't so bad after all.