#when one of them is hurt. but i feel like that adds more to his character in a way

[revelboo]

Ok but why do we have the same music taste?? I didnt even entirely realise outsude of the I Fight Dragons songs at first but I listen to every single one of those

Great minds think alike 😅

Everything Is Alright Pt 130

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Servos pressing against his chassis over his spark chamber, it’s hard not to fixate on that fragile, little spark tangled in him. Something Megatron had never actually thought to want. Never allowed himself to even consider it as an option. But now that it’s happened? He just desperately wants to protect this. Remembering the feel of you drifting through him, that you’d felt like sunshine, bright and warm. Addictive. It’s not like he’d lied- the spark will need contact with you. Strengthening it by spark bonding again and again. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work, but the carrier is also supposed to keep the spark.

• Frustrated, he lets himself into the Constructicons’s habsuite looking for Hook and somehow isn’t the least bit surprised to see the biggest of them, Bonecrusher, leaning forward cooing at a little human sitting on his thigh as he offers them a package of some kind of human food. Because of course they’ve got a human, too. Suspects there’s more than a few of them smuggled aboard the Nemesis at this point. It’s the thing they’ve built against the wall that gets his attention, though. Bending slightly to study what they’ve done without his permission. And all of them are frozen, watching him. “What is this?” He asks, forgetting that he’d wanted to ask the medic about sparklings and spark bonds.

• Watching Scrapper come forward, hands away from his frame, Megatron resists the urge to smile at the mech’s obvious discomfort. ‘Just a little habitat. For the human.’ The Constructicon shrugs slightly even as he manages to look guilty. Putting himself between Megatron and his brothers, taking responsibility. ‘No one’s fraggin’ it,’ Scrapper adds as Bonecrusher curls his hand protectively around you. If the Constructicons aren’t fragging theirs, it’s probably just a matter of time until one of them tries to. What is it about humans that makes his troops lose all control? The interfacing can’t just be that good. But studying the little structure with its facilities, he can’t deny the Constructicons are onto something. Maybe you’d like something like this? “Can you build more of these?”

• Staring after his cassettes and their little human, Soundwave’s servos flex against you. Not wanting to give you up, wanting to spend time with you. Ask you to bond to him, do it right this time. Not deal with whatever is going on there. Rumbling when Starscream reaches to take you from him with a haughty, ‘looks like you’ve got a mess to deal with.’ And you look back at him as the Seeker carries you off, your expression making his spark ache. Because there’s always someone else needing him, demanding his time. So used to ignoring what he wants to look after everything else. And he just wants some time with you.

• Soundwave looks so lost, staring after you as Star carries you back to his habsuite. Just immediately sitting on his berth and mass shifting. Wrapping himself around you with a shuddering intake through his vents. And it’s the first time you’ve been alone with him since what he’d done. Since he’d stripped away Soundwave’s bond. Hurt you and Soundwave. “Why did you do it?” You ask, unable to just let it go as his servos run over you, like he’s checking for injuries. Reassuring himself that you’re okay.

• Denta gritting at the soft, hurt question, his wings flick. Because no answer is going to be good enough to excuse that. Doesn’t even know how to start making amends for it. Helm brushing your forehead so he can focus on those eyes he loves, he vents softly. “Jealousy. Fear,” he admits, gripping your arm when you try to lean away. “I thought I was losing you piece by piece. That I was being replaced.” Other hand cupping your cheek to keep you from turning away, his own optics shutter. Ashamed of what he’d done in a fit of jealous anger. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Our sparkling. You’re all I have.”

• That doesn’t make it better. Not by a long shot, but you’d driven him to this. Made him feel that Soundwave was replacing him. “I love Soundwave,” you say and those red optics open, leaning forward to stay pressed against him when he tries to lean back, you grab onto his shoulders. “And I love you. This is all really messed up and I know it.“ Unable to choose between them and accidentally hurting them both over and over. It’s all you, isn’t it? “I don’t know how to stop loving him.”

• And you sound so lost, pressing your face against his shoulder as he cups the back of your head. “I knew when I started falling in love with you, that this wouldn’t be easy. I tried to do what was right by you. To let you go and couldn’t even do that,” he growls, tucking you more firmly against him. “We’re both a bit fragged up.” Hears you snort at him as he forces your chin up. “Are you leaking again?” Venting affectionately, he brushes his mouth against your forehead. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Previous

[tangerineastronaut]

Can we get some fluff jongho takes care of reader on her period plsssss

soft 🐻 c.jongho

Let him take care of you. He insists.💕

Pairing: Jongho x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Drabble, Texts + Written imagine Requested: Yes w.c. 780 Warnings: period cramps, reader is on her period, medicine (OTC pain meds) A/N: a jongho request? c'mere anon i'm gonna kiss you. I'm sorry this is short and sweet. I'd love more Jongho requests, I don't see enough content for our bear and I'd like to add to what we've got 😩 Anywho this hits home for me bc idk about y'all but my periods are HELL. I could definitely use a jongho 😭 This is my first time adding texts to a story, so I hope it's alright! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs

Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

You open one eye as someone knocks on your door, though quickly close it again as a swell of pain steals the air from your lungs. Your insides feel like mush, and everything below your belly button aches. 

You feel something soft on your face, and when you open your eyes again, you’re embarrassed and incredibly relieved at the same time to find Jongho running his knuckles down your cheek.

“Jongho?” you ask weakly. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was on my way, didn’t you see my last text?” he asks. You realize he’s crouched in front of the couch, where you collapsed an hour ago and haven’t moved since. You shake your head. 

“N-No, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay. What do you need?”

“A hysterectomy.”

“Funny. What else do you need? Have you taken anything?”

Jongho clicks his tongue as you shake your head. He leaves for a few moments, so you close your eyes again. But then you’re being urged to sit up, and your face crumples in pain. 

“Here,” he says, sliding onto the sofa beside you. You take the glass of water he’s holding, sipping it down as he drops something in the palm of your hand. Two tylenol; you take them, finishing off the water. 

“Why didn’t you take anything earlier?” he asks, lifting a hand to your cheek. His palm is warm and you lean into it. Your head hurts. Your face hurts. Your back, legs, stomach. All of you hurts. 

“I just kind of curled up to die,” you admit, looking up at him. “Didn’t wanna move.”

Jongho sighs and wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his firm chest. Your arms go around his neck as you bury yourself against him.

He’s soft and warm and smells so good; his cologne isn’t overwhelming, just a note of something that could only be described as “manly.” It's amazing how a person could make you feel safe with just a hug, but that was Jongho.

“What can I do for you, baby?” he asks, brushing hair away from your face. He presses a kiss to your temple, letting his lips rest there. You nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale, making him chuckle.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “Just be here.”

You open your eyes, blinking and rubbing at them. You're a little groggy and confused, but feel something firm and warm behind you. You tilt your head back, and Jongho kisses you below your ear.

"Hi," he hums softly. You groan, feeling a little more human but mostly still mush.

His fingers twitch and your face flushes—his large hand covers the softness of your lower belly, thumb gently brushing your skin. You were holding his wrist, very obviously not wanting him to move even in your sleep.

“What time is it?” you ask. You finally release him and move your hand to your stomach, resting it over his—still hurts, though not nearly as bad as before. Could’ve been the medicine, but you suspected it had to do with a certain someone as well. 

You roll over so that you're facing him, squished together on your small couch. He doesn't seem to mind and wraps his arms securely around you, pulling you snug against his form.

“It’s close to 1 a.m., you haven’t been sleeping very long,” Jongho says, rubbing your arm. “How are you feeling? Need more medicine?”

You shake your head. 

“It’s better now,” you say with a shy smile. Jongho smiles back, so cutely that you have to lean forward and kiss him. You move your hands to either side of his face.

He sighs against your mouth and hugs you tight, pulling back just enough that your noses are still touching. 

“Wanna go to bed?” he asks, stealing another chaste kiss. He moves his hands down to your lower back, fingers firm yet gentle as he massages either side of your spine. You nearly melt with relief, moaning as you tuck yourself against him. 

“No. Don’t wanna move. Feels good,” you mumble. Jongho hums a laugh. You rest for a few seconds until he begins to sit up. You grab his hoodie for purchase until he stands, smoothly lifting you up bridal style and adjusting you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him, pouting at the sudden disruption.

When you open your mouth to protest, he kisses you, using soft lips to steal whatever complaints you may have wanted to file.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your cheek as he speaks. “Let's go to bed."

"Can you hold me?" you ask quietly. Jongho nods.

"Of course, baby. That's why I'm here."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Adore You 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor Odinson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Thor and Luna.

Summary: good intentions often lead to bad ideas.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It’s laundry day. Not for him. His own routine is a bit of a mess these days. Most of his time revolves around her. 

He sits outside the window, positioned just so the curtain obscures with his large figure. She keeps most lights off when she’s not using them. So he can spot clearly her path through the small one floor house. From her bedroom, down the hall, into the kitchen. 

He shifts to see into the later. The light flicks on. She rolls in the hamper and stops it just on the other side of the stackable laundry unit. She pauses to rub her hips. She’s taken her medicine but it doesn’t seem to be helping. 

She puts the clothes into the machine by small handfuls. She doesn’t do heavy lifting. He's made note of that. At the grocery store, she brings her own cart she can push home. She doesn’t grab anything big. Never a big bag of apples, only two or three. No sacks of potatoes but a package of the baby redskins. 

She adds the soap and shuts the door. She hits start and the basket begins to fill. She braces the hamper and takes a few breaths. She moves the empty hamper against the counter and shuffles out, shutting off the light. 

His mother has arthritis too. He takes her to her appointments for her check-ups. That’s where he first saw her. He thought she was rather young to be there. Maybe she thought the same of him, but she never looked at him once. 

He follows her back to the bedroom. She unfolds her heating pad on the bed and crawls up to lay on it. Her shirt tugs up over her soft belly as she reclines. She taps the keys of laptop and focus on the screen. 

Thor backs up to take out his phone. He keeps the screen as dim as he can. It’s dark in her yard and he doesn’t want to draw attention; hers or the neighbours’. 

He feels like he’s falling behind. Peter got a number, Bucky started talking to his special one, and Steve spent a whole night with his. He’s got to figure something out. 

He puts the phone away. There’s a moment of clarity. What is he doing? If she looked out and saw him then, she’d be horrified. It’s not his fault he’s so big. An elephant in a world built for gazelles. 

He only wants to help her. He notices that. She doesn’t have anyone to take her to appointments or to pick up her prescriptions. Or to even help apply the steroid creams to her back where it hurts most. 

She gets up when the cycle ends. It takes her long to switch the wet clothes to the dryer. She takes several breaks. She puts it on high temp then goes back to bed. She shuts off her lights as she does. She’ll deal with it in the morning. 

She squirms to get comfortable. The glow of the laptop illuminates her figure. The cotton top rubs against her hard nipples and clings to her curves. The linen pants are tight around her full thighs and crease just so around her pelvis. Gods, he getting a bit worked up. 

Her eyes slowly droop. He shouldn’t stick around. He does have a job. Sometimes it’s just too hard to leave her. And he didn’t figure out how to move this forward. He hasn’t even made himself known. 

He shrugs in defeat. He makes his way around the house and lets himself out through the gate. A swell of nerves rolls in his stomach. Wait a minute. She didn’t check the doors. She always does. 

He can’t just go. Just in case. He'll check for her. Yeah, that’s how he can help. 

He strolls up the front path and to the front door. The awning casts him in a pool of shadows. He grabs the handle and turns, finding no resistance. The door clicks and opens. It’s a good thing he thought of it. Anyone could just walk in, like he is right now. 

Like he is... 

He steps into her entryway and his mind and heart race. What is he doing? Keeping her safe. That’s exactly it. 

He locks the door. With him inside. 

It’s fine. He’s not a bad guy. He’s just making sure she’s alright. He doesn’t want to frighten her so her takes off his boots. He carries them with him down the hall. 

He stops outside her bedroom door as the dryer rumbles and covers his approach. Her back is to him. He can tell by her breath that she’s asleep. 

He enters her room. What is he doing? He takes in the dim outline of her possessions. 

He should go. That voice keeps telling him to go. No, he has to get something. He takes his phone out. He opens the camera and aims it at her. Just a picture. 

The room illuminates with the flash. Shoot. He forgot to turn that off. 

She twitches and his chest seizes. She brings her hand up to rub her cheek then reaches for her laptop. He woke her up! 

She taps a button and turns down the brightness. Then she buries her face in her elbow. He backs up. He could leave. He could. 

He reaches behind him and inches the closet door open. He slides it slowly then backs up through it. He hunches to fit beneath the shelf then closes the door. He can see her through the slats. What is he doing? He doesn’t know but gods, he is hard. 

[mangionebabymama]

hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)

It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.

I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”

i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.

but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.

it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(

Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)

No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.

I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.

Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.

[star-fandoms]

LADS REDESIGNS!! + notes

Note: These are solely for fun, nothing wrong with the original designs and I still plan on drawing their original designs!

I used the Linkon Chibi Report cover because I couldn't be bothered to actually draw them all, my bad LMAO Here's the link to the Love and Deepspace twitter where I got it: https://x.com/Love_Deepspace

THE ART IS NOT MINE, JUST THE REDESIGNS!!(Which even then were highly inspired by the new Valentines cards!)

XAVIER

(His hair is 100% inspired by his "Deluded Fiction card.)

Uh but yeah, as for WHY I decided to go with this design, it has a bit to do with his lore. Please correct me if I get anything wrong, I'm not super aware of everything lore related(Esp not with Xavi's, too focused on Zayne and Caleb :,< )

But Xavier has been traveling for a while, and I think over time he would stop really caring about his appearance, more focused on defeating wanderers and trying to protect the mc.

I also feel like he'd eventually cut his hair again and brush it! So his longer hair is more so an early game thing lol

I also just love the idea of chronic bed head Xavier. Like I imagine his to be a still sleeper, but I think it'd be funny that no matter how still he sleeps, his hair just gets messy again LOL

I just felt like eyebags fit Xavier a lot. I also gave him a mole! I thought his face felt empty without a mole and for some reason I just keep thinking he has one and then I look at him and I'm shocked he doesn't have one LOL But I also think the whole "Your moles are where your lover kissed you most in your past life" soulmate thingy. I think it'd be cute if Daye(one of my mc's. But I think it'd be cute to see moles on where other's mc's kiss Xavier the most!) was a cheek kisser in every timeline.

I think it's like...pretty impossible for Xavier NOT to have a single scar, no matter how good he is right now. I honestly feel that way about most the men(Other then Zayne since he has scars) but like Xavi's a hunter and ur telling me I can't find a single scar on his body?? So I gave him one on his jaw and one on the corner of his mouth! There's multiple more scattered around his body as well!

Speaking of his body, I think he'd have a sleeper build LOL!! Just for those who don't know, a sleeper build is when someone doesn't look strong and doesn't have obvious muscle, but they're strong and the muscle is hidden. I mainly chose this cause of the name LOL

I also gave him heterochromia, I just thought it would look nice LOL

RAFAYEL

I made the tips of his fingers blue, I did think about red and I might try that honestly, but it's because he's a Lemurian. I wanted something kinda subtle to show that(Its not that subtle with Raf though since he's an artist and uses his hands LOL)

I did also give him longer hair and I wanted to keep it fluffy! I might also mess around with a bit more wavy hair! I also made one of his little side bangs just a bit longer for some asymmetry, I wanted to add hair clips but decided against actually drawing it in the end!

I also added a teal streak to his hair. I already like Raf's design so I wasn't really sure what to change, so this just seemed a little fun. I think its like a little artistic streak.

Raf does NOT have muscles, don't even play with me. No matter what the game shows, Raf will always be a little stick that I can pick up.

I also think that Raf might have a few tattoos! Not too many, I think he'd cry getting every tattoo cause it all hurts him. But I also think he would like to see his own body as kind of a canvas(This is also something that I do to myself and others. I love painting on myself and other people) That said I think after a while Raf probably decided against getting anymore tattoos and just doodles and paints on his body, he also likes that he gets to change it up more.

ZAYNE

okay...I prommy I wasn't going to originally give Zayne longer hair. I think the short and clean look suits Zayne and his personality well. But also...I think it's really fun to kind of imagine liking having long hair(A little throwback to "Master of Fate")

Anyways, Zayne with some of his hair tied back is WOOOOO MAMA!! I do wanna play around with a little ponytail too, which is what I think he'd actually do while performing surgeries.

I did give him eyebags as well. Bro works super late sometimes and struggles with nightmares and insomnia, yeah he has eyebags.

I didn't change too much about Zayne honestly. I was thinking about adding glasses permanently but also decided against that. Though I do really like Zayne in glasses so I wanna draw him in them more, I just also hate drawing glasses.

SYLUS

okay...most notably, Sylus has the longest hair! I don't know why but for some reason I always remembered his dragon form having long hair, which it literally doesn't. Anyways, long fluffy mullet Sylus supremacy idk. LOL

^ his hair also has a bit of a red gradient. I didn't want it to be too obvious, but his hair felt a little lacking without it!

Also I gave his arms a dark red gradient, I also think he'd have claws I just didn't draw them. These are also because...half dragon. I know they aren't the hands he had as a dragon, but I wanted them to be more human.

It's so subtle, but I gave him fangs.

I didn't even think about it but I might mess around with slightly pointed ears. a more subtle touch to show he's not human.

I did also think about giving him little horns and wings, but decided against that. I also decided again red streaks on his hair and landed on the gradient instead.

CALEB

Caleb is one of them I'm STICKING with long hair for. He looks so good with a mullet I feel like I belong in a psyche ward.

I gave him little white streaks in his hair, It's supposed to be heat damage but aesthetic from the ✨explosion✨ once again, not really meant to be realistic at all.

Its also so subtle, but I traced one of his pupils with red because I think it'd be even more tragic is Caleb had lost an eye and it got replaced with a mechanic one, like his arm. I think it'd be useful for scanning people and recording their actions too. And I think it'd also be tragic if his vision was warped from this eye, like it doesn't really view properly. I'd have to draw out what I mean eventually cause I don't think I'm making any sense.

i didn't do it but god, him having a little slit in his brow would be so good too, with like a little scar there.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my silly little redesigns! Once again the art I edited belongs to Love and Deepspace!

[doodlemcnoodlee]

Why dose it feel like the Solarballs team changes how a character acts just to push the plot along?

In both of the newest episodes everyone has been acting out of character for them! Like just look at the rocky planets (+Luna)! They were dismissive and down right rude for Earth and for what?? I get there was a lot happening the past few episodes both with the competitions to get Jupiter back and him coming back in general but there was not reason to just shut him down immediately once Earth tried talking to them about Theia and learning more about the past.

His clearly not doing very well at the moment and they don't even seem to care! Not one bit! It makes me wonder if Earth DID try to talk to them about him Earthlings and how much they hurt him only to be dismissed or talked over like in the video, how many times have Earth tired to brooch the topic only to be shut down immediately?

Even Luna wasn't much help! He just deflected when Earth tried asking about Theia and while it did seem like he was trying to distract him, saying that there wasn't a point worrying about, it since both Jupiter and Planet X were gone, he immediately followed it up by saying "It's important day for me" coupled with how he acted after the game was dismantled? Just yelling at Earth without letting him talk?

Don't even get me started with Mercury and the other rock planet! Saying Earth's suicide attempt was a "stunt" like wtf??! Dose that even sound like something Mercury would say? Sure his a bit socially awkward due to being isolated from the rest of the Rockies due to the Sun and Venus but not that much!

I can’t add more than one video apparently but there’s two more that leads right into my point! Or maybe just any seen or earth interacts with other people 

I have so many feelings about this episode and none of them are good!

If you have any thoughts please share<33

[qoldenskies]

Thinking about Rise Splinter hate… it always makes me kinda sad. Like YEAH, it wasn’t right the way he treated the boys. But like, Rise is really good at expressing subtle familial dynamics, and one of the big ones for me is the fact that like… there’s always an undercurrent of “It’s complicated” to their interaction with Splinter. IRL, it always pisses me off to see people casting judgments on people’s relationships with their family, because you don’t know!! Yeah, they hurt you, but not everything’s black and white. It’s complicated. Because you love them, and sometimes you get to understand a little bit better why things happened as you get older.

In a matter of smaller importance, hate for him loses so many opportunities in his character… even things that might just be kinda off-handedly mentioned.

He fought for SEVEN years—give me Splinter with chronic pain. Splinter relating to his boys with their neurodivergence—it’s HIS fault they have it!!!

That was seven years of imprisonment, or even simpler, an abusive relationship. What did he learn from that? How did he change? What things are skewed in his worldview?

His childhood! We saw his relationship with his grandfather a bit, but how did Splinter grow into his dream of being a movies star? HIM BEING A MOVIE STAR. He was both a rebellious team and a literal celebrity, this guy probably took empyrean at some point without knowing it, just like. Recreationally or something LMAO.

I maybe just need more of his old man knowledge. Him being so loser-core was a great move by the Rise team, and I could SEE where his story was going—ROBBED. We were ROBBED.

splinter hate is CRAAAAZY when he's such an INTERESTING character who does actually have a lot of obvious depth. like he's goofy and he's objectively flawed as a parent but he does go out of his way to improve himself and LEARN throughout the show, and he does listen and apologize when he knows he's messed up. his issues are so similar to leo's actually, leo's a kid so he's got more leeway to be shitty but idk when people act like its endearing on him and not on splinter. splinter's hilarious free my man

on the other side of the coin i dont really like when people make him a perfect loving parent either,,, i think people going for all kinds of interpretations in order to serve whatever story they need is fine but i do prefer kind of messy parent splinter, i think its kind of sad to see him reduced down to bad or good. he LOVES his boys so dearly and he would NEVER intentionally want to hurt them, but he's quick to cast judgement when he's angered/feels disrespected (evil league of mutants comes to mind, but also in turtle dega nights when donnie first stops the tank) and he's really a lot more inattentive than he should be. but there are REASONS behind this, coming out of an abusive relationship, fighting in bloodsports against his consent for years, you could probably count the whole draxum thing as traumatic (its presented as kind of silly in the show, but considering what it lead to,, its a pivotal moment in the backstory. its one of those things that i reasonably feel can be recontextualized because its so essential) and then dealing with crippling body dysmorphia and being forced into the sewers with no company other than his children,, it really adds up

idk like ,,,, you can still be extremely traumatized and be a horrible parent. in fact trauma can be a direct CAUSE of being a bad parent because that kind of thing influences every facet of your life and if youre unprepared emotionally, yeah. but splinter isn't the kind of person to double down and become more overtly nasty when he feels cornered. if he gets the feeling that his kids are actually upset with him, he backtracks. this is actually kind of a key trait of his, that he does try very hard to correct himself when he messes up. he's communicative and apologetic, and he tries very hard to be that way.

and also this is maybe something that i just have a wider problem with when it comes to the way people interpret things in cartoons at times but splinter's actions in eps like lair games (especially in lair games) and flushed but never forgotten are meant to be like. jokes. its absurdist comedy that's meant to catch you off guard. there are more serious emotional beats in rise you can use but i think when youre adapting this world and characters into a more serious tone you have to keep that kind of thing in mind because some things are meant to be surprising and absurd for the sake of making you laugh. i think the best comparison i can think of is how in musical movies they're not actually singing (in most cases, sometimes the fact that they actually are is played for laughs it depends. but yk what i mean). the joke is that this is kind of a shitty thing he's doing but taking the actions themselves seriously in a vacuum in order to cast shame on a character has always been odd to me. that'd be like calling raph abusive for rolling up the window on mikey's neck in late fee. or calling the teetz murderers because they caused a robot mass suicide that one time. it just doesnt make any sense

[xhollowfaerie]

Lavanda

a/n: ahhhh i reallyyy like how this came out, with the exception of me being a sleep deprived idiot and literally forgetting that Zara is already dead by the time Lucanis is First Talon (ik im a fucking dumbass) so ignore that part, but i liked the dialogue too much to scrap it, it is what it is. sung this song for hours while writing, pls listen if u can it's one of my favs and it adds so much to the atmosphere, it's very Rookanis to me <3 pps the elvhen destroyed my brain. i learned too many things. forbidden knowledge. enjoy💜 tags: demi4demi Rookanis, hurt/comfort, fluff, these little idiots are so in love, almost kiss, Rook runs Lucanis a bath, the smallest hint of spice (yes the concept art-inspired bath smut is on the way, i promise), Lucanis covered in scars is canon to me, body hair + happy trail Lucanis hehehe, dadbod-ish(?) Lucanis🤤, I overuse "mierda" but I like it too much

Rook was happily humming a bard song as her fingers danced along the pool of water, watching the ripples with a smile.

“She would always like to say,

Why change the past when you can own this day…”

Her pointed ears twitched as they picked up a familiar rhythm of steps approaching, causing her to bite her lip and smile even wider, tilting her head to the side.

“My, I was beginning to think the Crows had stolen you away again, Master Dellamorte…” Kore giggled, turning to face Lucanis.

Just as she had hoped, a blush dusted his cheeks.

“Don’t call me that, Rook” Lucanis blurted curtly, before clearing his throat. He was still the First Talon, it seemed, ready to give orders. “...please. It’s too formal.”

She covered her lips sheepishly, as she always did after her flirting and teasing.

“I’m sorry.” 

He hummed shortly. “Why don’t I believe you?”

The elf glanced away, trying to contain the flush of her own features as she gestured towards the steaming pool.

“Well… I ran you a nice, warm bath! Lavender and honey… to help you relax. You deserve it.” He took a deep breath of the scent into his lungs, sending a shiver down his spine.

Her voice softened, and her smile felt like a warm hug.

“You’ve been working so much, tending to your duties as First Talon. I can't imagine how stressful it must be.” Lucanis found himself at a loss around Rook again; they had gotten much closer, and she was always showering him with affection; with her attention, with her allure. 

Lavender was calming. Of course; the most popular remedy for trouble sleeping; but it was quite ironic that Spite had whispered that exact word into his ear at Pietra as he looked at her lips. Lucanis had begun to associate it with a more exciting feeling. The feeling Rook gave him every time they were together.

‘KISS. HER. LUCANIS! FIRST KISS. LAVENDER AND HONEY. SO MANY TIMES, SHE BRINGS IT UP. KISS HER, KISS HER!’

The Crow flushed a deeper shade of red, averting his eyes.

‘REMEMBER! COFFEE DATE. FIRST KISS! REMIND ROOK.’

Kore had… omitted the truth. In her desperation to flirt, she had pretended as if she had ever had a first kiss. Much like Lucanis, she could only suspect what it would taste like. In his mind, she was more experienced - sweet, relaxed, flirty, and, not to mention, breathtaking. He had seen the way Viper looked at her. His mind had filled in the rest. Albeit… inaccurately. 

Running him a bath… cooking together, for each other, making coffee… grocery trips, reading, comparing daggers… The domesticity that had grown so beautifully between them wrapped its hands around his neck, cutting his oxygen off.

He didn't want to ruin it. Everything. Her. What they had. He didn't know what to call it, but that couldn't matter any less. He knew he was her assassin. Her God Killer. He would be anything she ever needed. It was all he needed. To be useful to her. To be what she needs.

“How was Treviso?”

As her voice caressed his hearing, his shoulders slouched. The assassin let out a sigh, guard finally lowering; for just a split second, he unravelled his facade and visibly winced. It was so easy to forget himself around her, to allow himself to grow comfortable. Too comfortable. 

“It was-”

“Lucanis!”

She stood up and rushed to his side, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

“You're hurt!”

His heart was bursting at the expression of concern on her face. He smiled in an attempt to console her. “I assure you, I'll live” he chuckled, but she furrowed her brows and puffed her cheek as she always did when she was frustrated with him. He tried again. “No pasa nada. I promise, Rook, it's nothing.”

“Mientes” she mumbled, reaching a hand up to straighten his collar. His eyes widened. The Antivan leaving her lips always took him by surprise. He stared at her dumbfounded as she pressed on.

“Does it hurt? Can I see?”

He blushed again, and took a moment to remember how to string words together.

“My… ribs.”

Her hands rested on his chest, and he felt her touch burning a fire inside of it through his clothes.

“Rook-”

“Please, Lucanis. Let me help you.”

Mierda, her eyes. How could he ever say no to them?

“You always take care of me… Let me do the same.”

He could feel the heat extending to his neck and ears, wishing desperately that she would be a lot worse at allowing him to open up, for once - it was getting considerably harder to stay away from her, to maintain a safe distance between them, especially as her hands ran down his chest with that look on her face that he couldn’t quite pin down.

‘Rook. Loves you. Loves Spite, loves us!’ Spite helped, inching closer to her. She briefly glanced at him, giggling as he grinned in her direction. Lucanis narrowed his eyes in confusion, but she quickly caught onto it and, scrambling to shift his attention, lifted a hand up to cup his face, her own catching on fire.

“Can you… open your shirt for me, please?”

The dryness in his throat physically hurt as he tried his best to gulp it down, feeling himself unable to move, or speak, or do anything other than admire her with what he knew was unbridled affection and… something else that he really hated himself for.

“L-Lucanis?” “Yes.”

His answer was immediate, breathless. None of them spoke any further or moved. They stared into each-other; she lovingly studied the sharp angles of his face as he delighted in the roundness of hers, wishing more than anything that his arms could wrap around her figure and hold her to his chest.

The simple dress she was wearing fit her so beautifully - he didn’t have the courage to mention he’d just bought her the one she mentioned she loved the last time they went to Treviso together. Had they met under different circumstances, he would have been convinced she was royalty; a Princess, a Goddess. The intricate elven markings on her face, the trails of lightning… he wanted to press his lips down the length of them, no matter how far they went - he would let them guide his mouth over her skin while he worshipped her for days.

“U-Um… s-should I…?” Kore finally broke the silence between them, feeling the intensity of his gaze crumbling her composure; his eyes were one of his sharpest tools, but they had never regarded her with anything other than delicate softness - well, that, and… w-whatever had filled them just now, making her skin tingle under the fabric of her dress.

As if she’d shocked him, Lucanis finally snapped out of it, idly clearing his throat and taking a step back as her hand fell from his face, scratching the side of his neck. “Y-N-No, I, uh, I can manage... Thank you, Kore.”

Kore pursed her lips, trying to suppress a smile. Her enchanted eye followed Spite as he circled around her, brushing the tips of their fingers together. When her green orb landed on Lucanis again, his dexterous hands were unbuttoning his vest, eyes following their motions. He shrugged it off effortlessly before removing his crow pin, untying and pulling his cravat off with one swift motion, causing Kore to almost lose her balance for a second, hand rushing to cover the gasp that left her mouth. He glanced at her with the same look from earlier, a natural charm and… almost… she was inclined to say hunger, but that thought made her want to scream into a pillow. He was about to say something, but Spite clamped his hand over his mouth, making Lucanis scowl for a moment.

‘SHUT. UP! She’s enjoying it! KEEP. GOING.’

Desperately shoving the embarrassment creeping inside him back down, Lucanis tore his gaze away from her again, focusing on his buttons, dextrous fingers twisting them out of their eyelets with cold precision. The elf felt her lips parting enough for her knuckle to peek through, sinking her teeth into her skin as she watched him breathlessly. Slowly, his large hands moved lower and lower, allowing her a glimpse of his body beneath the expensive, dark purple fabric; her heartbeat picked up as her eyes shyly explored the shape of his chest, his sun-kissed skin riddled with scars. 

When he reached the final button, he straightened himself awkwardly, feeling the fabric part as it exposed his abdomen to her. She shamelessly trailed the length of his dark hairs lower and lower, trying her absolute best to not get distracted by the enticing mix of muscle and softness. A large bruise bloomed the span of his ribs, right across a large, visibly newer scar. 

Her eyes widened, feeling the tears already welling up; instinctively, she stepped closer, lightly reaching to ghost her fingers over it. Oh, Maker, Maker, why, why did she have to look at him with such devotion, something he could never deserve, especially not from her.

“Oh, Lucanis…” Kore whispered, riddled with dejection. She glanced up at him, silently asking for his consent; he simply gave her a shy nod, nervously bracing himself for her touch.

When the soft tips of her fingers ran down his scar, he shuddered from head to toe, accompanied by the smallest grunt of pain. 

Exhilarating, just as he’d always imagined.

She tore her hand away, feeling the overwhelming guilt stab right through her heart; he immediately mourned its loss.

“Ir abelas, I’m so sorry-!” 

With a shaky hand, he reached to gently wrap his fingers around hers and brought her hand back to his abdomen, reassuringly pressing atop hers. His ears buzzed, feeling himself falling into a stupor of her touch.

“Don’t be.”

A tiny sigh of relief left her, but the heat in her face only worsened; her hand felt like it might catch on fire any second.

“It’s not your fault. Just a pesky wound that refuses to fully heal” he grumbled, glancing at Spite, who peeked out from behind Kore, lovingly twirling a strand of her pink hair, scowling. She couldn’t quite hear him yet, but he was much clearer to her now, making it easier to read his lips. The intensity of his emotions reached her through the Veil - the hatred, that burning desire for revenge.

‘Nnnnnrgh! Zara! Calivan! Spite remembers.’

Her jaw clenched, feeling the familiar rage bubbling inside her from the day they freed Lucanis, multiplied tenfold by her growing affection for him since. Lucanis saw her eyes flicker, the way they did when she used her magic to slam Venatori into the dirt, the rawness when she slit their throats. It was such a stark contrast to her usual sweetness, but he adored it all the same.

Maybe a little too much.

The hand dangling by her side sparked for just a split second before she grasped onto the skirt of her pink dress, shaking relentlessly. She stared up at him, and Lucanis felt a part of him shrink as another threatened to swell. He knew much too well what she was capable of - how terrifying she could be, how powerful of a mage, more powerful than she even realized.

A mage. And he was her mage-killer, sworn to her service for the rest of his days. Enthralled, but no, not by blood magic, not like before.

It took every ounce of his self-control to hold back from kissing her.

The way her fox-like eyes narrowed dangerously, feeling her hand heat up over his skin; Lucanis felt like he couldn’t breathe, and then she spoke in a low voice, almost reducing him to a trembling mess.

“We’ll find her, Lucanis, I swear it. And when we do? We will make her wish she was dead. She’ll pay for every. single. thing she’s ever done to you, if it is the last thing I do.”

Spite dragged a groan of arousal out of his throat before eyeing her hungrily, breaking into a chuckle. ‘Rooooooook! Sooo. Protective. Lucanisssss. Want to? Get on your knees. For her.’

The Crow let out a strangled noise, shaking - he couldn’t tell if her mouthing ‘shhh, I’m here, I’m right here, Lucanis’ as her fingers lovingly traced his scar as she punctuated every word made his shivers much better or much, much worse.

La sangre del Hacedor. It was too late. Far too late.

She was nested so deeply inside his heart that tearing her out would kill the only part of himself that made it possible to get up every morning, to pick up his daggers, to not give up on himself, to not despise the abomination in the mirror.

“Kore Mercar” he found her full name spilling from his lips, daring to inch in closer as her eyes watched him so adoringly, a sentiment mirrored into his own. She felt her knees grow weak, hearing her name laced with his irresistible accent, uttered with such fondness, it made her wonder if she was dreaming of him again. They shared a thought which remained unspoken; the words themselves served only to hold the meaning that everything between them all but screamed already.

I think I’m in love with you.

“You are something else… unlike anything I have ever known” he shakily breathed instead, delighting in the flustered expression on her face as she broke into a smile.

“Says the scary mage-killer who makes me coffee every morning…” 

Her honeyed voice alone was enough to drive him absolutely insane, to make him come undone from just the thought of it (as it had already…). It made him so vulnerable, especially when she whispered to him with those alluring, mismatched eyes, the twinkling specks of glitter on her eyelids, the length of her lashes. The fullness of her heart-shaped lips.

She was absolutely divine, and there was no deity, no Maker or whatever else, that could ever earn his undying conviction the way Rook had.

Her kissable lips pursed, preceding the coziest warmth that he’d ever felt enveloping the throbbing pain surrounding his ribs, calming it. He glanced down to see her hand light up, shaken to his core by the absolute adoration painted on her face - adoration, and… neediness.

A need to be helpful. To be careful with him. To praise him, to shelter him, to make him see just how much he meant to her. How he had saved her life.

But… she was hesitant. Scared. He felt her hand tremble and, as his was still steadied atop, he tentatively gave it a light squeeze -it seemed that was all she needed in order to feel safe, to allow herself to open up to him. 

“I-I’m… not very good at this” Kore admitted. “I only cause destruction, only bring death.” She averted her gaze, shining with tears. “Or so I’ve been told. But, it turns out, they were right.”

“Over my dead body” Lucanis suppressed a growl, worried he might scare her with the murderous instinct taking over him. The swirls of pink around her face bounced so beautifully as she looked at him again, unsure if she had heard him right.

“Anyone who wishes to ever speak to you like that again may do so over my dead body.”

Her free hand reached to hide her own face as he heard a small whimper, but he - urged by Spite - lovingly pried it away.

“Please, never hide from me. Your presence has already healed me in ways I never thought possible. You hold me- this team, together, you soothe our aches, you aid our every endeavour, believe in us when we have been wrought of every drop of faith in ourselves. Everyone - myself especially - would not be here without you.”

“Lucanis… I…”

Maybe he was just too intoxicated by her scent, by the rosemary oil in her hair, by the vanilla of her perfume, by the steam of lavender surrounding them, but he finally dared to face the dread inside of him as he slowly closed his eyes, moving his fingers towards her face, almost, almost holding that sacred space of softness between her jaw and neck into his palm, to bring her into him, finally finally, finally, be brave, for once -

“Hey, Rook? Taash told me you might be in here, do you still need more lavender flowe- aaah- oh!”

Their steps were quick and almost soundless as they both pulled apart in the blink of an eye; Kore tucked a stray lock of pink behind her ear as she flushed and Lucanis cleared his throat, timidly pulling on his collar to close the gap in the fabric over his chest.

“O-Oooh…!” Lace winced, making a face as the realization immediately hit her. “Sorry…! Don’t mind me! I was never here!”

Harding apologetically set the basket of lavender flowers down with a grin, tilting her head towards Kore with a nod of encouragement before she rushed off.

They both exhaled in sync, looked at each-other in surprise, then looked away again.

“I-I should, um, let you enjoy your bath, before it gets cold-”“Sí, I, it would be a waste for it to get cold-”

Their hurried voices overlapped before a dull silence settled.

She was the first to giggle, followed by a faint rumble from his chest. They finally faced each-other again, bright. Light. Beguiled.

“Gracias, Rook.” “De nada, Señor Dellamorte.” 

He shot her a scolding glance in an attempt to mask his bashfulness, met with a beaming smile as she brought the basket over to the side of the pool, kneeling down to scatter a few more lavender flowers into the water, glistening with whimsy. Her words were soft and song-like, tenderly infusing it with her magic.

“Sul ladaral i nehn, sul lanun'ven'ur'alas. Sur on'ala sal'shiral…sul…sul lath.”

(For healing and happiness, for good luck. For a wonderful/long life. For…for love.)

He had no idea what the Elvhen rolling off her tongue meant, but it made his heart sing all the same as she gave him a small bow and a sweet ‘ma serannas’ (thank you), leaving him to bask in the relaxing scent. He took another deep breath into his lungs, feeling his eyes roll back, feeling the warmth of her healing still engulf him so lovingly, feeling the memory of her delicate hand on his scar. He exhaled, unbuttoning the hems of his sleeves, letting the shirt slip off his shoulders. Two fingers reached for his forehead as he closed his eyes. He flushed a few shades deeper still, bringing more fingers to cover his face in embarrassment.

“Mierda.”

Spite huffed in annoyance, his patience with Lucanis running thinner by the day. He sat on the edge of the pool, swinging his feet into the water with a grumpy pout. ‘Want to. Take bath. With Rook. Take. Rook. Undress her. Wash her. Pretty hair.’

Lucanis finished undressing and sunk into the warm, periwinkle water, letting out a sigh of exhilaration as he imagined Rook against him. He pictured her dainty, loving hands soaping his body with utmost care; he wanted to caress her breathtaking shapes, feel every inch of her, every curve fitting perfectly in the palm of his hands; he wistfully pretended he could bury his face into her pink locks, inhaling her scent; imagined the damp, silken sensation of her wet hair between his digits as he shampooed it, holding it in deep devotion as she recited his name. He rested against one of the walls and rolled his head back, feeling the dull ache in his abdomen lessening, allowing his exhaustion to finally rob him of his consciousness as he dozed off, mumbling quietly.

“Spite?” “Yes?” “Cállate.”

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

As I’m writing my responses for the character asks, I think it’s about time I did somewhat of a character ramble on Cold.

(At least, my personal reading of him. I may be wrong about him, since he’s the one who had given me the most trouble[due to how emotional I am as a person]. Or maybe you can see this as a different perspective? Feel free to add more or correct me though.)

(This will be long though (and really messy), so I’m putting a cut here)

One thing that I feel is important to Cold’s character is that he is not completely emotionless. Emotionally suppressed, yes, but not completely emotionless.

I personally think it’s more accurate to describe Cold as “being detached” than “emotionless”. He can feel emotions and care for the other voices(in his own way), as you can see in routes like Moment of Clarity where he attempts to teach the voices to be unfeeling(and later feeling frustrated about not being about to help them numb it down) and in PatD, where he had acknowledged that he had missed “The Decider” and showed annoyance towards Oppy in his lack of ability to commit to his choices.

The most notable example of him showing emotion is his hostility towards the Narrator, which is quite a feat to be made since Cold really doesn’t seem to hate any of the voices. Annoyed, sure, but he doesn’t seem to dislike any of them.

His interest towards Anger

For a voice claiming to be unfeeling, he sure is attracted to the emotion of anger and prodding the one who’s angry to inflict it on him.

One thing I’ve noticed about him is that he would often push a person to act acts of violence on him, specifically those who had lost their sense of purpose and are furious about it. Three clear examples I can think of at the top of my head are Stubborn, Smitten, and Fury. All three of them are furious, or at least feeling really crummy about losing their purpose.

Stubborn, as his purpose was to enjoy a fight with the Princess and win against her, or just to fight her for the rest of eternity.

Smitten, as his purpose was to be the knight in shining armour for Damsel and save her from her prison.

As for Fury, depending on the route you get her from, was given a purpose by you. She is to be the Adversary that could handle your every punch, or the Tower who is destined to end to world.

And yet, because of your choices, their purpose have been taken away from them.

What is an Adversary without her opponent? What is a God without a believer?

Out of all the emotions for Cold to choose and take an interest towards, why anger?

Anger is one of the most intense emotions to ever be felt. But at the same time, it comes from a place of hurt and vulnerability. Your heart.

In Wraith, Cold’s more spiteful side is amplified when you had paired him up with Cheated, with the both of them ganging up on the Narrator and had decided that they don’t want to listen to the Narrator anymore and would much rather free the Princess. In many of the routes featuring Cold, he is shown to be opposing Narry in every way, and would do anything to annoy and piss the Narrator off just to spite him. Unlike how he provokes the voices, which is for his own amusement, he genuinely hates the Narrator.

Which makes me wonder if that’s the emotion Cold felt before you stabbed yourself—anger and betrayal. But before those emotions were settled fully, it was quickly gone away with a stab in the heart. Perhaps a part of him wants to feel that same anger again? Because that was the first ever emotion he had ever felt before it was quickly taken away from him and was replaced with that numbness? Or perhaps, he seeks understanding from the others?

Cold and Purpose

Cold is unique in a way where he really isn’t active at all when compared to the other voices. He’s even more passive than Broken. He has no goals, no ambition, no drive to do anything. In fact, he’s really more of a spectator. He isn’t a knight to come save a damsel in distress, or a broken soul seeking refuge in a god, or an unfortunate guy getting screwed over by the world around him and seeks justice. He’s just here to watch.

After all, he had already fulfilled his purpose a long time ago in chapter one. And at the end, that purpose meant nothing at all, as he is discarded like a used tool after his purpose had been fulfilled. There is no point doing anything else but to watch. All he could do now is to encourage you to do literally anything that isn’t nothing.

(That also explains why he’s so angry at you in the everyone hates you ending, since you have discarded him and the other voices carelessly like tools you could use. In his eyes, you are being just like the Narrator. He’s got abandonment issues I feel.)

In conclusion???

I… don’t really have a good conclusion to this. I really just wanted to put my thoughts regarding Cold as a character and then share it.

Cold is an intriguing character to say the least, with him having many contradictions and yet coming together perfectly to create him. He is playful as much as he is tragic. He is unfeeling and yet he cares anyway despite the fact that he really didn’t have to. He is rooted in the present, but longs for something that had already been lost in the past. He holds grudges as much as he is easygoing.

He prides himself in having the ability to distance himself from the pain and doubt in order to get the job done. And yet in the end, he yearns to feel again.

There is a warmth underneath his unfeeling skin. You just have to really dig for it.

[the-best-of-waynes]

ending co-written with mun of @brightest-starr-girl

"Pete is... he's really funny. And really sweet. And really smart." Lenny nudges Karen. "Kinda like you. But also... very much his own person. He's not exactly golden retriever. He's more of a chocolate lab puppy. And a little less stoic than you, a little quieter. But... I think I really like him, Kare. I just don't know that he'll like me back."

"Don't know that you're worth liking, you mean." Karen raises a brow at her best friend's pointed pout. "Don't try to deflect, I know you."

Lenny huffs, picking slightly at her fingernails. "Just... after our break-up. Can I even do a relationship? I feel like- like everyone I love, just ends up hurt. I'm a curse, K. Or it feels that way. Might as well protect them if I can't do anything else." She lets out a bitter half-laugh. "I already made you cry." A sideways glance. "Is it... selfish to bring you along?"

Karen sighs. "I'm gonna level with you, Len. The whole..." She can't bring herself to say 'faking your death', "-leaving thing is more selfish than staying. You don't want to see them hurt, so the solution is... hurt them from afar? So they're in an equally bad, if not worse position, you just don't have to deal with it?"

Lenny winces. "When you put it that way..."

"So why leave?"

"I already told you. I started planning it after the whole thing went down with Deathstroke and Joker and all that. And then- Dad and Mo- Selina broke up. Dad's trying to heal and me being around reminding him of her isn't helping at all. Then you've got her and the minute they break up she ditches, picks fu- picks Stray, her beloved Tim variant, over me, which I get; one of us is like her and the other is not-"

"As far as she knows," Karen interrupts.

"As far as she knows," Lenny confirms. "Then you've got Dick dealing with everything on his plate, same with Jay and Tim-Tam and Dami and Cass and Steph and Duke, and all of them need attention that I'm stealing with Dad who's already trying to balance everything for everyone. And, well... we disagree on the value-added of my presence."

"And there's nothing else?" Karen presses.

Lenny hesitates, then adds, "Nothing I can share at the moment."

Karen allows it, knowing she won't get anything else. "No matter what happens, you know I love you, right?"

"I... try." She meets Karen's eyes. "Kay. I... see your point in the selfishness. And maybe it is. Probably, it is. But... I have tried so hard, for so long, to be everything they needed me to be."

"Then tell them that," Karen begs, pleads, desperate. "Helena." She never uses her best friend's full first name. "Helena, I mean it. Just tell them."

Lenny swallows hard. "I can't," she whispers, a confession and a defense all at once. "I don't know how."

"Let them in. You've let me in. They want to be there for you."

"No. No, I- I've worked so hard. I've hidden so much just so I can get through. They don't know me, they don't get to know me, I can't do it. I've already lost so much- Kay- I- I can't lose again-"

She's begun to devolve into a panic attack, and Karen instantly moves, grabbing Lenny's hands and exaggerating her breathing for Lenny to match. "In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight." She repeats the words as she models, until finally Lenny is calm. "You okay?"

Lenny- Lena- Helena- Len- whoever she is right now- nods before shaking her head no and half collapsing into Karen's embrace. Tears wet the blonde's shoulder, and both are incredibly grateful for waterproof makeup as Karen holds her, allowing her to let it out. "I don't know who I am anymore, K. I think I'm too broken for all of this.

"I think you need a break," Karen returns, gentle, soothing, rubbing her hand lightly along Lenny's back as she does just that. "You've been fighting for so long. Not just with a bow--I mean since I've met you. You've been fighting since before I met you, with all that stuff with Robe-"

"Don't say his name," Helena cuts in vehemently.

"Okay," Karen easily acquiesces. "Since the stuff with J.C. and your first foster dad. I saw you fight to stay afloat when living with your adoptive family. I saw you fight for those siblings. I saw you fight to find who you were, fight to get out, fight to get to Gotham. I've seen you fight for the other kids on the street, as a civilian and as a vigilante. I've seen you fight for the world. Seen you sacrifice yourself, over and over and over again. I've seen you fight for your parents and fight for your many new siblings. And I've seen you fight yourself every step of the way. I don't know of a time I haven't seen you fighting, if not an external force, then an internal battle with yourself. And I've known you for almost a decade, Len." Karen pulls back slightly, not letting go or removing her touch, but intentional. "Look me in the eye." She waits. "The only reason I'm not telling Mr. Wayne anything is because you need to rest. And if this is what it takes for you to do that, for you to stop fighting and just sit, then I'll do whatever you need me to. Because you need to. And if it takes getting away from the family and from who you've tried to force yourself to be, then I'll support you. But Len... don't let all this pain be in vain, okay? Just... promise me that."

"I promise." It's dull, but genuine, overloaded with emotions.

"Thank you." Karen pulls her back in for a hug. "I love you. Remember that, alright?"

"I love you too, Kare." For the first time all evening, for the first time in months, the smile Helena gives is easy and real. "I'll stay in touch."

Karen laughs, a wet laugh, one telling how hard it is to hold back the sobs. "You better. Or I'm hunting you down."

"Ooh, scary," Lenny teases.

Karen flicks her. "Just shut up and let me hug you. I don't know when I'll get to again."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am."

And so, Karen embraces her best friend tighter, the both soaking in the moment. When they let go and part ways, the gala winding down, it's lingering, bittersweet, but the words have been spoken; their hearts and minds are lighter, if a little sadder.

But their relationship, all the stronger.

Martha Wayne Foundation’s Midwinter Gala

open to anyone who wants to join!

Helena takes a deep breath and a shallow sip of champagne. Her family isn't here, so it's not like they can take it away, and no one else cares, because she's not getting drunk and pretty much everyone above the age of fourteen at a gala drinks.

As much as she hates these things, she is willing to suffer through if it means her dad and brothers get a little break. Maybe it'll help with the guilt a little. After all, it's the least she can do, considering...

Nevermind. She's nauseous once more.

She spots a server unobtrusively making his way through the crowd and immediately begins weaving through to reach him. The food is the only redeemable thing about a gala, other than the dancing; it might be small in size, but the number is unlimited, the selection varied, and the taste exquisite.

So focused is she on her goal of canapes that she completely misses the person she bumps into.

"So sorry," she apologizes quickly.

[outfit under the cut]

[autisticandroids]

CASTIEL: Stop. What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me - not love, not respect, just fear.

[youtube with closed captions]

a godstiel pity party. i'd like to thank an anon i got way back in february of 2021.

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[mad-hunts]

❛ today isn’t your day, is it? ❜

dead eyes. that is one of the common words that people such as psychologists used to describe a narcissist gaze, or perhaps more accurately in barton's case, a sociopath's — and this was due to the distinct lack of life within them. of that spark that people typically had within their eyes, indicating they were fully present and feeling things. barton didn't even realize it at the time but this exact same phenomenon was what was taking place in him; for, in his head, he was somewhere at least a thousand miles away from the hospital chair he sat in. he just couldn't cope with the knowledge that it was essentially his fault that his child had gotten severely hurt today without escaping into himself.

and judging by the scrapes, as well as the deep lacerations that decorated his features like a morbid reminder of how badly he had messed up that day, he had also gotten hurt in the crossfire of it. what the doctor that was in charge of taking of his son said about jack seemed to be on a non-stop loop in his head: that he had several fractures to the skull and blood was clotting within his brain, so they'd have to perform surgery on him immediately. well, the surgery had ended about two hours ago, but barton's worry and guilt surrounding the accident continued to persist like white on rice.

he didn't even realize someone had stopped to talk to him until he could suddenly feel the sting of tears. barton couldn't cry here, not now. this quickly snapped him back to reality and just when the other began her sentence was when his hearing was restored. before, it'd been ringing, as if he had the worst case of tinnitus. but barton knew deep down that that wasn't the cause of it. after swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand to prevent any tears from escaping them, he looked up at the source of the voice, noting that they were a complete stranger. barton supposed they were probably just asking out of pity, ❝ uhh, yeah. i guess you could say that. sorry, it's just my son isn't doing well. me and him got into a motorcycle accident, ❞ a sniffle came from him as he mumbled this to the other.

what a pathetic sound. if his bio father, wesley, were here today — he'd probably tell him to 'shape up' and 'be a man.' he always was kind of a figure of toxic masculinity in his life, whenever he thought about it. barton cleared his throat then and thought to divert the attention off of himself by asking her a question, ❝ are you here visiting someone else? i would hate to hear that... one of your relatives wasn't doing well, either. so for what it's worth, i hope everything's alright with your family. we don't get enough time with them on this earth already with tomorrow not being guaranteed. ❞

[dirtytransmasc]

I know in my bones that Jon would have been a mama's boy, the biggest mama's boy actually, had Cat accepted him as her own. I just feel it deep within my soul, that boy would be attached to her at the hip, always holding her hand or leaning into her or latching onto her like a little leech (affectionate), and god forbid someone try and mess with her, oh lordy you better run. and honestly the other way around too, don't mess with Mama Cat or her kids.

had Catelyn accepted him as her son, the bond would be far too powerful, that's why they had to be put at such odds, it was for the world's sake, I just know it.

[sugucide]

two weeks.

it's been two weeks since kento has been inside of you. He's gone months, hell even years without sex before he met you and he was fine. he didn't even wish for it like most of his bachelor counterparts did.

but now that he's had a taste of you? two weeks may as well be a death sentence. which is ironic, giving the nature of this sex ban. everything you do is inviting: maybe it's just his underworked sex drive or maybe he's reverted back to his teenage years because he sure does feel like an impatient, entitled brat whenever you walk past him.

he can smell you. not the smell of your perfume you spritz on each morning. not the product in you hair. not the moisturiser you use. but you, the scent of your self, your body, the skin he's so often inhaled as he bit down between your thighs or up the column of your neck. he can smell the memories of sex, sweaty and tangled in pheromones and all things primal.

he can hear you. not your words or laughter or the way you hum absentmindedly when you're pottering around the house. he can hear that sharp little intake of breath when you accidentally, or not-so-accidentally, brush against him. he can hear that whining tinge to your voice when you tell him you won't sleep with him, that you're punishing him, as if its moreso a punishment for you than him. he can remember the way you'd moan for him, desperate and glassy eyed and oh so perfect for him as he ruins you from the inside out.

he can't take it anymore.

"two weeks is more than enough time for me to think about my actions," he tells you over dinner one night, eyes cast downwards at his plate. "...and to come up with a suitable apology."

you place your chopsticks down at his last words and look up at your husband. "oh? let's hear it then."

over the frames of his glasses, kento's eyes meet yours. "i apologise for worrying you and risking my life for my work."

you tap your fingers against the table. "and will you continue to do it?"

"yes," he admits. "it's my job, one that i do well. if i die doing it, i hope it's in place of someone who didn't sign up for it, like you."

kento reaches over the table and takes your hand. "i can't just stop being a sorcerer. that would be too selfish of me. but i do promise that i will make more of an effort to reduce my chances of getting hurt from now on: no more unnecessary risks. okay?"

though that was all you needed to hear from him, you start to wonder if lifting the sex ban was a good idea when your pent-up husband is swiping plates from the dinner table to make room for you to lay back on it. claiming he can't wait the few extra second to carry you to the bedroom, he has you stripped and laid bare on the dining room table in no time, and he's ready for his meal.

"missed her," he mumbles as he parts your legs with a strong hand and bends down to kiss once at your clit. that's about and gentlemanly as it gets, though, because soon after he's making out with your pussy like he's a virgin. no technique, no precision, nothing but unfiltered need and its so much hotter than you'd imagine it to be.

eyes locking onto yours from between your thighs, he adds two fingers and works you open. two weeks was a long time for the both of you, so he'll need to get you used to the stretch of him again. he scissors his fingers inside of you, curls them upwards to hit your g-spot and smirks like a saint when your back arches off the table in response.

"missed you ken," you ramble on as your climax nears. "missed you so much. hated doing this. love you. loveyouloveyou god i love you."

you cum hard, harder than you've cum in a long time and kento laps it up like he's never tasted anything so good. he savours your taste on his tongue like he would an aged wine, something expensive and delicious and worth keeping bottled. though he's harder than diamond and worried he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't sink inside of you soon. so he stands and undoes his belt in record time (with those lovely hands of his) and repositions you at the end of the table with his leaky cock already pressing against your wet entrance.

he leans over you and shares a kiss with you as he pushes in. he inhales the gasp you let out at the stretch and moans into your mouth as a gift in return. he pulls out almost entirely, so it's just his head nestled in your tight pussy, and then slams in again. hard.

"god kento—" you start, about to chide him for being so rough with you when you notice his face dip into your neck and the sudden warmth filling you from the inside. kento's hips stutter and he bites at the skin of your shoulder to muffle the heavy moans that ache to free themselves from his chest.

"did you just—"

"don't," he cuts you off, cock twitching inside of you with his release. he's plugging you up, keeping you full of him and his cum. "give me a minute and i'll fuck you so stupid that you forget that just happened."

"you just—"

"don't laugh."

"im not laughing! it's just, you know like our first time..."

"shut up." kento's hips pull away and then slam back into yours as he starts a brutal pace with you.

that shuts you up good.

[phiniusandjelly]

Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!

I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.

But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.

Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.

Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!

And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.

But then he tries to leave.

Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.

Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.

Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.

But either way, it doesnt work.

He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.

Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.

He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.

Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.

He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.

And he is trapped.

And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.

After hes been more or less kidnapped.

He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.

And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).

but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!

Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!

He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!

He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.

Most importantly, he knows their goals

But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.

And has no idea what they want

And Danny just freezes up

This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.

You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue

I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat

Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.

And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.

I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”

JL would not be happy about any of his responses.

Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day