#He's so romantic for such a violent angry man. I understand and love this.

[devildom-moss]

Roses for you (4)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Four Roses - Satan

Word Count: +500

Nothing can do us apart

After a romantic stroll and a delightful stop at a cat café, Satan took your hand and led you up to your favorite overlook. You could see so much of the Devildom from up there, and the sight had an enchanting effect on you, making you feel simultaneously small and on top of the world. It didn’t matter how many times you came here, you rushed to the edge and stared out at the city every time.

“This night has been beautiful.” Satan took your hand again. His gaze followed yours as he stared out at the view of the Devildom night with you. The lights offered a cool glow to the city – a soft halo resting above the buildings.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I’m glad the weather is clear tonight. The Devildom is gorgeous like this.”

You heard a soft chuckle from Satan’s direction. “That’s not quite what I meant. Tonight has been beautiful because I’ve spent it with you. . . Hey, MC, could you look at me for a second?”

You turned to meet Satan’s gaze. It seemed an impossible feat that his eyes could reflect the array of colorful lights – only absorbing the green into nothingness. Nothing could rival those emerald eyes, and it appeared that green light made no attempts to compare – too inferior to even be reflected. Satan cut your admiration short when he leaned in and left a chaste kiss on your lips. When he pulled back, he was holding a small rectangular – almost square – box.

“Where did this come from?” you questioned its sudden appearance.

“Magic.” Satan smiled. “Go on, open it.”

You took the box in your hands and carefully removed the lid to reveal four preserved roses: two lavender and two white, arranged in a checkerboard pattern.

The number of roses clicked in your head and made you smile. Satan was the romantic type who would declare that nothing could separate you through flowers. He was also the type to give you a bit more of a challenge. Lavender could mean enchantment and love at first sight – which given your past, the latter was not the case. The white wasn’t explicitly romantic, but it may be a symbol of loyalty and reverence. Furthermore, this was Satan, and you had a feeling he had chosen to gift you preserved roses to highlight the eternal and everlasting elements. All of this combined, especially the white roses, and made you think that his floral offering sounded an awful lot like –

“Oh,” you gasped, heat rising in your cheeks. This felt like a marriage proposal coming from him – in the same way that so many of his confessions did. You had captured his affection; now, Satan was devoted and enchanted, and he made it clear that his love was unwavering and unending.

“I mean it.” Satan acknowledged the recognition on your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You have my heart forever.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” you warned him with a grin. Satan inched closer, but you stopped him by placing a finger over his lips, earning the smallest pout. “Not here. I’m going to take you back to my room and kiss you until you can’t think anymore, okay?”

Satan nipped at your fingertip, holding you softly between his teeth, and nodded. He was certain of the message he had sent. Nothing could unbind him from you; he wouldn’t let it happen.

Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Barbatos (9) | Luke (10) | Simeon (11) | Solomon (12) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14) | Mephistopheles (15)

[aemvnd]

Sorry if this isn’t enough of a prompt but could you write something based on “Ultraviolence” by Lana? I was listening to it today and couldn’t stop thinking of Rafe…

𝓇.cameron. ┆ ultraviolence.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ this is v toxic!rafe… but romantic ?? proceed with caution . !!! ♡

"you know that i love you, right?" rafe says suddenly, practically casually, seemingly out of nowhere, his gaze intense, long fingers twitching as if he was just itching to hurt someone—and gosh, you've never been more in love with him.

there was just something about rafe, the way he carried himself, the way he treated you, doted on you in the most bittersweet of ways—you loved him, you'll always love him, even when it hurts, even if it kills you in the end, just like those tragic fairytales, like romeo and juliet.

you're a big girl, you can take it, you're his girl, rafe always says, kissing you deeply, possessively, obsessively, like he can't bear the thought of his life without you in it, and again, you're his sweet, gentle and loving girl, always ready to please him, to be his obedient little doll—his, his, his.

if you could, you'd love him forever, no matter the violence and rage that's always simmering beneath the surface of his skin, always hot to the touch, and you know he tries, tries so hard for you, to be good, to be good for you, his sweet girl, his everything.

that's what he tells you, late at night, stars shining above tannyhill as you both sit out on his balcony, and you're snuggled all dreamy and small in his lap, with both of his strong, thick arms wrapped around you tightly, whispering love confessions into the middle of the night that you don't usually hear, but you listen to every word he says, heart thumping wildly as he explains the way he loves you, how he tries to open up and be more soft with you, knowing how pure and sensitive your heart is, and that it belongs to him.

rafe cameron needs you, he tells you that one late night on his balcony, softly murmuring as he trails sweet, open-mouthed kisses along your delicate neck—and oh, rafe needs you like the blood pumping through his heart, he needs you in the mornings, in the afternoons, and especially in the evenings… every minute of every single day, the oldest cameron sibling needs you, needs to know that you're his, that you'll always be his.

and sometimes, when rafe repeats the same, simple little phrase to you almost everyday, that you're everything—and still, sometimes, you don't understand the true meaning of his words, but you're starting to understand now, after being with him for a few months now, almost nearing your six month anniversary of being together, officially.

rafe cameron is a violent man, a man blessed with beauty and rage, a man so obsessive, dangerously beautiful, so powerful now that he's in charge of his father's business—and in some ways, he's a sickeningly sweet poison coursing through your veins constantly, slowly killing you, but as always, you wouldn't have him any other way.

and when rafe kisses you, slowly and deeply and full of that warm feeling that he can't always say aloud, it feels heavenly, like the stars and the moon are declaring their approval of your love from the way they shine down upon you both, and when things get complicated, when he gets angry and starts screaming and throwing things, you love him then, too.

no matter the circumstances, or the violence and anger that comes along with him, you'll always love rafe cameron, no matter the busted knuckles and bloodstained clothes, you'll always be in love with rafe, just like the first time, and the last time, and every time in between—you'll love him, forever.

[lemongrass-and-peppermint]

Semi-Realistic Simon “Ghost” Riley Romance Headcanons!

Only semi-realistic because I'm delusional about this man

TW: mentions of angst, drugs, violence

Doesn’t go out looking for romance or dates—you’re most likely to meet him at a pub (the other TF141 boys will introduce you) or at a gym ( probably will only talk to you if you need help with some equipment).

I headcanon the man to be on the aroace spectrum in the sense that he just has no interest in either romance or sex whatsoever until he actually Meets someone. Like he can feel attraction but doesn’t pursue that at all.

And then even if he does fall in love he will not take initiative bc he’s genuinely fine just being friends.

If you wanna date this man then you need to take all the initiative, both romantically and sexually.

He won’t be completely cold though! Will initiate physical touch and affection all on his own. Depending on your size, he will either sling an arm around your shoulders or your lower back, likes to hold your hand.

Won’t be as touchy in public as at home but he will tolerate pretty much any touch from you! Doesn’t get embarrassed easily so if you start dancing in the streets he’ll mostly just keep watch to make sure nobody walks into you or you don’t trip. Will let you use him as a dancing partner even if he’s as still as a pole.

I think he gravitates to people that are both strong physically to some degree and also traumatized or a little fucked up. He might not know abt any of that for sure when u meet but he has a sixth sense for these things.

Regardless, he will make sure you know how to take care of yourself. Marksmanship training and workouts incoming, plus self-defense classes. It is a must, especially if you’re a woman or otherwise fem-presenting/visibly queer/vulnerable.

If you use mobility aids, he might get a *bit* overprotective of them and you. Will be grabby with wheelchairs until it is sternly explained to him to Not Do That. It makes him feel better when he can help you, but he understands and respects your independence!

If anything happens that will cause you to need mobility aids (such as a car accident or physical illness) this man’s taking a long ass leave and staying with you to help you out. He probably knows of some retired military men with mobility aids and assistance needs and will contact them to get a better idea of how to help you.

I see him as someone who likes to work with his hands so I can imagine him straight up building you mobility aids or wheelchairs and walkers and stuff like that. It might take him a couple of attempts until he makes something serviceable but he’d get there.

He is generally extremely calm, naturally just quiet. Still very much a family man (have you seen how he’s with his family in the comics????). He’s very soft, likes to be helpful and take charge of the household like a housewife more than ‘head of the family’ (you're most likely to be the 'top' here).

Will request control of finances if you’re a spender. Might forcibly take control over finances if you're really shit at them.

As calm as he is though, he is still a military man, and they are statistically likely to be… less than stellar partners. Ghost is never violent and if he gets mad he prefers to leave the house, put some distance between the two of you to calm down.

He will be especially prone to disappearing while mad/upset if you’re a woman/fem-leaning, because due to his upbringing he struggles with intrusive thoughts of violence towards women.

If you are the type to throw things, hit things, or degrade/insult him during arguments, he is permanently leaving and not coming back. No amount of apologizing is going to change that decision. He has self-respect and will not stand being abused or mistreated like that. His feelings for you disappear into thin air if you’re that type of angry person.

His toxicity would mostly come from him being emotionally unavailable and thus neglectful. He just has a hard time understanding how some actions come off. Will need long, mature conversations about it that will be difficult for both sides to get things settled here. Willing to hear and understand and change though! But you’d have to give him very clear instructions and behaviors to model.

Ghost’s brother, Tommy (rip), was addicted to drugs and almost died because of them, was quite the piece of shit—which Ghost rectified by forcing him into sobriety and getting him a wife. As such, Ghost hates drugs because he knows what they can do, and doesn’t partake in any. Even medical drugs, especially ones for depression (which he should be taking) are pushing it for him.

However, if he ever starts spiralling—which is rare but can happen—he goes for them real quick. Like, he jumps off the deep end. The spirals very often lead towards suicidal ideation and within a day he can go from “doesn’t even look at drugs” to overdosing on heroin.

Will be in a horribly fragile state for at least a week afterwards. Will need a lot of care and comfort to stay in a relationship (especially after the first time he spirals with you present), cause he’s still eye-deep in self-hatred and needs help to see past it. Grows extra clingy in that period if he has been Convinced. Like, hands on you all the time, following you to every room. He almost lost this??? Let him appreciate it now that he can do it again.

He’s gonna need some time to return to himself. Especially if he was in a hospital. He hates that place.

Will go to therapy but is not happy about it. If you’ve been together long, he might request that you come with him but listen to music so you can’t actually hear anything—he just wants to hold you like a stress ball.

Will melt if you go out of your way to do romantic gestures. He doesn’t do these often himself—at least not the stereotypical ones like flowers—but if you do it for him??? He might not show it with much enthusiasm, but he grows very quiet and soft and smiley, obsesses over the gift for as long as it lasts and needs to stay close to you for a while after. It’s a very small joy but it is marrow-deep and warm, soothing and comforting.

Overall I hc him as being very reserved emotionally but a pretty good boyfriend! If you have rejection sensitive dysphoria I can imagine you going thru the trenches with this man tho—curse his lack of facial expressions ToT

[carmen-is-away]

angsty elliott headcanons.

content warnings: self harm, toxic relationships, mental illness, violence?, mentions of abuse

He gets attached very quickly to people he’s interested in romantically and will ignore red flags and/or try extremely hard to make them fit them into the idealized narrative he’s created of them in his head

He tends to isolate himself from others once he’s in a romantic relationship and hardly ever spends time with people besides his partner

He worships his partner, I’m talking devoting his whole life to making them happy and ignoring his own wants most times

Loves his partner wholeheartedly and is willing to do almost anything for them, even if they’re not always the best to him

He very desperately wants to be loved

He begrudgingly disowned his parents, they were terrible towards him and never supported him along with being horribly neglectful and abusive albeit having more than enough time and money to do so

He gets violently angry and destructive when his writer’s block is at its peak.

I’m talking throwing his journal across the room and shoving everything off of his desk. He’s pulling his hair and yelling and destroying his surroundings and probably hurting himself

He makes sure to not let his partner or anyone see this though. He hates when people worry about him.

It’s usually followed up by a long and sob and horrible depression episode that lasts somewhere from a few weeks to months.

What can I say? He feels his work very strongly

That also goes for the opposite

He’s running to read you his latest poem because he’s fallen in love with it and he expects you to as well

He may have even brought himself to tears

He will be all over you and ready to jump over the moon if you love it as much as he does

If you aren’t as tender as enthused as he hopes you’ll be or you judge his work harshly with less than constructive criticism, it will be a large blow to his ego and it will break his heart a little

He will understand if you’re busy or tired or not able to put your full focus on it, but if you can and you aren’t, or you're being an asshole, he’s super hurt and he may not always admit or display that in front of you

He craves validation, please give it to him, he might actually go insane without it

He also needs affection. He’s very insecure and will begin to wonder if you’re not attracted to him if you haven’t been affectionate with him in a while. He’s been quite touch starved for a long time

Elliott’s a very broken man and he requires a lot of patience and attention

He needs security and stability and someone who won’t take advantage of him

Please give him the space to make decisions and be accepting of him and give him your attention

Despite his terrible mental health, he’s a wonderful partner and father. Even when he’s doing terribly, he’s all ears and open arms for his family

[yanderelegoninjago]

hi !! I like to request a part 2 of the romantic moment with lloyd !! where he does get a kid and surprise his uncle and dad with this 🥺

Aw, I didn't expect ppl to like that and want more tbh :) This request is so old

Summary: [Aged Up] Everyone wants to see the new ninja baby Tw: Kids/Baby

Lloyd always knew he wanted a kid. He read all those parent books, even 'Parenting for Dummies' because he wanted to be the Father he never had. But there was one thing he wasn't prepared for: you going into labor.

I mean he obviously knew you were going to go into labor eventually, but you were angry and yelling, not to mention crying. Even through all that, he was the happiest man in the world when his daughter was born. She looked just like you, but had his eyes. It was love at first sight.

The bliss only lasted a few minutes, because you were quick to call for him to give you your child. He was hesitant, but he did give her up.

"Aww, she has your eyes," You looked at her lovingly and Lloyd smiled.

-----

"So where is she?"

"She's in her room recovering-"

"She means the baby, dingus," Kai punches Lloyd's bi-cep, but not in a way that would hurt.

Lloyd awkwardly smiles, before nodding his head, "Sorry, it's been a long night. She's with my dad."

"Your dad?" Cole was taken by surprise. "That's new."

"Y/n's in the room with him. He wouldn't do anything. He's not that stupid."

"He is your dad," Kai jokes, but Lloyd rolls his eyes.

Nya finally pushes her way through the boys, Jay close behind, "So what room is she in? We have to see the baby!" Nya and Jay nearly jump at the idea of holding a baby.

"Well, I don't know if you can all go in right now. Like two or three at a time."

"Well, I'm going in first," Nya says.

"Anyone else wants to go first?" He turns to Cole, who was now sitting down, keys in his hand, "Or you can wait a few hours and she'll be out."

"I'm sure the rest of us can wait-"

"I want to go with Nya-" Jay whines, and Lloyd shrugs.

"Then you can come too, Jay."

----

You glared at the door, angry that Lloyd had left you alone with his father. You loved Lloyd, but his father just knew how to get under your skin. If he made one more stupid remark or even a joke, you were going to skin him alive.

"So D/n [Daughter Name] Lloyd?"

"Yeah."

"Did you give her that name-"

"We agreed on the name." You don't even look towards the male, just praying that Lloyd would walk in at any moment.

"Shame really."

You finally turn to him, your face a bright red and you were frowning. "If you don't shut up, I will take out all these needles and push them so deep into your skin that when I pull them back out, your skin will be pulled off too. I will pluck your eyebrows with this pen," You grab a pen from next to you, "To make sure you never see my daughter again, if you do not shut up."

"So graphic... You should be careful around your daughter."

"Oh my god, I'm going to kill you if Lloyd doesn't come through that door right now."

As if God was listening, Lloyd came in and could sense the tension. He looks between you and his dad, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes." You quickly answering smiling, "Your dad was just leaving. Some work thing."

Lloyd looked at his father, confused, "Really?"

"Yes."

Lloyd looks over at you and he finally got it. He nodded his head, and headed out with his dad, but he quickly turned back towards you, "Nya and Jay are waiting outside to see the baby. Can they come in?"

"They've been to the doctor?"

"Yes. All of them."

"Then of course they can."

Suddenly, Nya and Jay are pushing in and cooing to see the baby.

----

"I don't understand why you fight with her."

"I don't fight with her."

Lloyd glares at his father, not believing him. "You can't be serious. I know you both the best. You're always messing with her. I don't know what you want from her."

"She's very violent."

"You're kidding right? You've tried taking over Ninjago multiple times."

Garmadon grimaces, "Who hasn't?"

"God, you just can't stop yourself, can you?"

"What do you mean?"

Lloyd groans, gripping his hair, before sighing, "Maybe... Maybe you should just leave for a few days?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I think it's best to just let Y/n relax for a while before you try invading again."

"You don't want me to see my granddaughter?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying for now, for Y/n's best interest, we all take some space. I'm sorry dad, but I have to think about Y/n and my daughter."

"It's almost like you love them more than me," Garmadon jokes, but Lloyd frowns.

"You don't want my response to that."

"I can catch a hint, son. I guess... Let me know."

"Yeah. I will."

----

"Aww, I love kids," Nya smiles, before talking to the baby.

"It's so strange knowing how babies are made and all-"

"Jay, now is not the time."

"Got it."

Llyod finally comes back and Nya ushers Jay out, but not before Jay hands you back your baby, leaving you two alone.

"So what was it this time?"

You look up at Lloyd, confused. though, you quickly realize what he meant, "You're father always says the worst things."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Lloyd. There's nothing you should be sorry about."

"I know... I just wish-"

"I know Lloyd. Maybe one day. You know, I only put up with him because of you."

Lloyd smiles, before going over and grabbing your hand. "You really are one of a kind, Y/n."

[sitp-recs]

15 fics with different takes on Harry

Nobody asked but here’s another self-indulgent reclist to celebrate Harry’s HBD week! I wonder how many people are open to seeing their fave under a new light? Some readers can be very picky when it comes to characterization, myself included; it can be scary but I also believe that new approaches can be exciting and thought-provoking, and help us understand the multiple layers underneath their personality, as well as imagine how different things could have been had they lived under different circumstances. I am all for having my perspectives challenged so I thought it would be cool to share some of the fics that made me go 🤯🫢 with their bold and captivating take on Harry. These include dark unhinged Harry, down & out Harry, pitiful Harry, himbo Harry and some other tropes that I’ve found particularly creative and refreshing. Each fic is unique in their own way so come pick your flavour of fanon Harry and enjoy!

The Language of Power by Lokifan (E, 2k)

Harry loves talking in Parseltongue to Draco during sex: his response is just delicious.

Magpie by @corvuscrowned (E, 4k)

Potter doesn't steal because he needs anything, Draco quickly learns. He doesn't do it because it makes him feel anything. It isn't about power, and it isn't about control. Potter just does it because he can.

The Antique Bed Frame by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 5.4k)

Draco “needs his bed fixed.” Harry offers to help.

Better Left Dead by calrissian18 (T, 6.6k)

A love story and a half.

World's Edge by RurouniHime (E, 15k)

In the harshest environment on earth, Harry finds that escaping is harder than simply running.

Violent Delights by primaveracerezos (E, 20k)

Draco Malfoy's life should be going very well. He's engaged to a wonderful man and in line for the Head Auror job. He's been made lead investigator on a serial murder case, trying to figure out who is killing off the scum of the wizarding world, one by one.

A Year in Training by Omi_Ohmy (M, 25k)

Harry is finally living his dream and training as an Auror, but nothing seems to be going right: he’s just so angry all the time. And Draco Malfoy’s presence on the programme really isn’t helping with that, either.

Fearful Trill by @vukovich (E, 29k)

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he's made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound, zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected.

Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan (E, 58k)

“Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.

Absolution by sunnyeclipses (E, 63k)

At the mercy of his failing marriage, Harry only meant to use the potion once — to get Draco to listen. It’s not his fault that it works so well and that Draco’s just so easy to control.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 (E, 91k)

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

[niuniente]

YES THAT'S THE THING! The only negative thing I have heard about Buffy since it started airing in the late 90's is that Buffy always goes back to Angel, no matter what, and it can get boring.

After all, this is an extremely popular series. A cult classic. It has won lots of prizes and gotten nominations. Has gotten books, comics, a movie. Angel even got his own series!

And here I am, not believing what I'm seeing because the writing just sucks SO BAD AND MAKES NO SENSE and no, you can't say it's because the series is old.

This all is happening in S5. There have been inklings over the course that this series is indeed made by a man, because only a man would write romance or women like that. Nothing super big, just slightly annoying like "oh my god, no woman would actually think or do that".

The problem in S5 is that the series/creator clearly can't either understand what a healthy devotion is OR/AND can't commit to write Spike in one way only. He constantly contradicts himself without any given reason, which in this case would only be a severe mental health issue.

Spike is pictured as this lovesick puppy who would do anything for Buffy, a bit shy and really taking his time to gather his courage to confess his feelings, and who is also making sure that his actions won't hurt Buffy or her family, even if it would hurt or kill him. Like, this soft, gentle, sensitive man who will do anything to keep his lover safe and would never harm them in anyway. Every mother's dream son-in-law.

But Spike is also, at the very same time, pictured from this male perspective of a lovesick man; oh, isn't it romantic how he steals Buffy's clothes to smell them, has built an altar for her, has a Buffy mannequin at his crypt he treats violently when he gets angry, stalks her around her home because he can't help his feelings, how Spike asks her current girlfriend to roleplay Buffy in bedroom because otherwise he doesn't want to have sex with her, how he commissions this personal Buffy sex toy for his own pleasure and orgasms only, and how he kidnaps Buffy and tells Buffy he kills her if he can't have her? Oh, what romantic devotion, this man is SO in LOVE!

AND HE KEEPS GOING BACK AND FORTH! THIS EPISODE, HE WANTS TO KILL BUFFY. NEXT EPISODE HE ALMOST GETS KILLED HIMSELF BECAUSE HE WOULD NEVER ALLOW ANYTHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO BUFFY. WELL NOW HE STALKS BUFFY AND WANTS HER FOR HIMSELF ONLY, BUT NO, WAIT, HE'S ACTUALLY PROTECTING BUFFY'S FAMILY BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO BRING ANY SADNESS TO BUFFY.

Like, who the hell is he? Do you want him to be the every woman's dream man or every woman's nightmare? He can't be both at the same time, not without an explanation and no, him being a vampire and sensitive isn't a valid explanation for such drastic differences.

And BUFFY? Sweet lord, Buffy! She's all just "eew, no" about this whole ordeal of having an obsessive man who has killed two Slayers (and is apparently the only vampire who has ever won against a Slayer) after her. No worry in the world. No concern that this man could kill or rape her, or hurt her family in his temper tantrum? Just scolds him by saying "gross" and "leave me alone".

And here I thought the biggest issue for the upcoming Buffy and Spike romance would be Angel's existence.

Of course, the series is probably going to brush all this freaky stuff off like "Nah, never happened and look, he was just so desperately in love and Buffy is so very strong she is not afraid of anyone and has no sense of self-protection as a woman".

I just don't understand how this level of character writing is considered even remotely plausible, not to mention something to be celebrated as an excellent cult classic?

Maybe it's just the Season 5. Maybe I'm just too old. And too sad. I just want better for Buffy and Spike, separately and together.

EDIT: OK TURNS OUT THE CREATOR OF THE SERIES HATED SPIKE AND HIS ACTOR FOR MAKING SPIKE A FAN FAVORITE AND RUINING HIS ARTISTIC PLANS, AND THAT THE CREATOR IS BASICALLY JUST A MAN SIZE WALKING DICK. A clear attempt to make fans hate Spike in S5 writing.

[creepypastasomethingsomething]

Can you write something queer platonic for Ticci Toby? I’m aromantic and don’t see a lot of love for qprs in the creepypasta spaces! If I have to be specific I’d say I want some fluffy content, but if you have anything else in mind I’m open to anything! Have a great day/night!

Got it, I hope this is good eough👍Have a good night/day yourself :)

BTW, this is set before Toby's story

(Platonic) Ticci Toby x GN! Aromantic! Reader

You sighed heavily once you stepped outside on the back of your porch, the big and bright moon shining like a night light down upon its surroundings. The air was freezing cold and the wind blew only slightly, but you still had a jacket to protect you, just in case. Your hair, if it was long enough, blew in the wind and you sighed in delight at the smell of rain, as it was going to start storming soon.

I really hope Toby comes before it starts raining... You thought as you tapped your foot on the concrete ground.

Tobias Rogers was one of your oldest and closest friends. The two of you met in Primary school, before he became homeschooled, and you both hit it off really well. The two of you became close and your family always said to each other, "Just wait until they're older, they're going to get married for sure."

Yeeeaaahhh, no.

That wasn't going to happen.

In your Freshman year of high school, you had a realization that you were Aromantic and didn't really want any romance after thinking about how you didn't have a romantic attraction to anyone. You were okay with this; that's just who are and how you liked it. Toby was supportive of you, and told you he himself was Aro-ace. You were happy since that was another thing the two of you had in common.

Your family.... didn't really get it.

"But, don't you want children? Or get married one day to a pretty man/woman?" They would say.

"I don't know yet." You would reply.

And yes, you didn't know if you wanted children yet. You didn't know if you wanted to get married since that never really crossed your mind. If you really liked someone and wanted to be with them for the rest of your life, then maybe. But you didn't have any romantic feelings for anyone at the moment.

You knew that people in the Aro community could date and have romantic relationships, you just didn't think you were one of them. Being single was something you liked; you don't have to worry about anniversaries, dates, getting your partner angry, cheating or breaking up.

Having friends, like Toby around sounded good to you.

"But the two of you would make such a cute couple!" a relative's voice said in your mind.

"You two are so close, you're basically dating at this point." Another said.

"Do you want to be lonely forever?"

"You'd make a great girl/boyfriend."

"I don't understand, how can you not like someone?"

"Hey."

You were brought out of your thoughts by Toby's voice and looked up to see him walk out of the back door, and come to sit with you on the porch's swing.

"Oh, hey."

"Um, your family seems, uh.. happy to see me."

"Yeah, shit, they think we're dating secretly even when I told them repeatedly that I don't want romance in my life."

"Well, good to see you again." He told you as you began to move your feet and push the swing.

"Good to see you too."

The two of you were quiet for a bit until he spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know, a little upset, I guess? My family tried to set me up with some guy earlier today, and I just don't know what to respond with. It's good to have you around, or else I'll go crazy. You understand... What about you? What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing too bad. Frank's been arrested and Lyra's at her friends. My mom has been drinking lately and getting drunk and... getting violent."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. I know you have my back, and going to your place beats staying at home in my room all day."

Toby smiled lightly and put his hand on top of yours. You smiled back and the two of you looked at the stars and moon together as you held hands.

You were lucky to have him as a friend.

[wispvial]

i wrote like a character sheet (?) about franklin x nubbins to aid me with my fic and to explain things...may as well post on my bloggy. tumblr isnt really a blogging experience because walls of text are discouraged...i'll post about nubbins then rb with franklin :]

--

Nubbins. His eyebrows have a placating droop. He has a big forehead and is peppered with scabs. He stutters his I’s but his stutter is mostly absent at home. He is transparent and easy to understand, but not at first, before he does something bad.

Nubbins is not capable of empathizing with Franklin or anyone else, but he does recognize his traits in him. Nubbins knows only himself in the innocent way an animal does. He wants people to watch him, play with him, and care for him, and his inability to see from other’s perspective makes rejection confusing, even though he is violent, dirty, antisocial, and a cannibal; nothing that inspires warm feelings in most people. The most important thing is that he can’t see himself the way others do. Like a diseased, disoriented deer, he stumbles through a world he can't understand, inconveniences others without shame or knowledge. There is serenity in this and there is pain, but to him, nothing is his fault.

Nubbins has discovered how good it feels to receive praise and positive attention from Franklin. Franklin is cute no matter how he’s feeling, but he’s quiet when he’s sad, and sarcastic when angry, none of which are fun for Nubbins. So, it’s best to make him happy, so they can play together—it’s important for him to reciprocate, because no one ever does. Nubbins has a voyeuristic, obsessive spirit, and observing all of Franklin’s quirks and expressions is rewarding, though he often can’t make sense of it.

If romantic love is understood, uncharitably, to be monopolizing and isolating, absorbing the personhood of another and replacing it with your own, it’s a gift that comes naturally to Nubbins. Romance is a thing that outsiders experience, who are stupid, silly, even bestial in fear. But it's fun and okay if he does it, though not once before had he considered this as an option.

Nubbins was raised by a man actively against sexual education and has a strange, fragmented relationship to human bodies from his frequent butchering and processing of them. He fixates on parts and not the whole picture. Pain is pleasurable and he’s in love with, or defined by blood. He is not scandalized by sex but it’s strange to him. Ultimately, it’s just a thing you can do with another person, and he likes doing things with Franklin.

Nubbins may seem to be a chaotic figure, and one may romanticize in him what they view as freedom. Certainly, the social norms that make Franklin’s daily life miserable are lost on Nubbins. But no one’s world could be as stifling as his, his nuclear family without a coat of varnish, who cannot imagine a world without humiliation and pain, who can only hope to be the one lucky enough to inflict it.

[616marcspector]

P L E A S E say more about autistic marc spector you are SO RIGHT and i want to hear EVERYTHING, have already read your whole tag (the body language!!!! yes!!!!!!) and 100% want more!

i am sorry for taking So Long to reply to this ask i have been so busy with irl stuff recently 😭

i've talked a bit about body language and stims and things and today i want to talk a little bit about his brain bc it is so fascinating to me i want to pick him apart <3

we know marc has had suicidal thoughts in the past, this is canon in both the comics and the series. and in both cases his desire for death comes from guilt. but why does he want to die, specifically? often people suffering from guilt would prefer to be punished, to be put through the same pain that they have caused others. we see this in the more modern comics, where marc has very little care for himself and his well-being and actively puts himself in harm's way. he is not trying to kill himself, he is trying to torture himself. (and he is not a masochist, he is simply a very sad and lonely man.)

so we ask again, why did marc feel suicidal in the past? because he craves peace. the world is loud and big and when marc is bleeding out in the middle of the desert after witnessing a massacre or having a meltdown and ptsd flashbacks while steven is coldly egging him on, all he wants is for everything to go dark and silent. he wishes he could not feel anything at all, like he pretends to, like he was taught to, like people expect him to. he knows he has done terrible things, and most of the time he accepts the guilt and tries his very best to rectify his mistakes. but sometimes it is all so very much to bear and he wants to shut down for a long, long time.

marc barely fronts at all in the moench run, only coming out when they need someone angry and violent OR when frenchie is around. and that's important. marc loves frenchie. whether you interpret that love as platonic or romantic or something else doesn't matter, frenchie is a safe space and an emotional anchor. frenchie understands marc, understands his past and his guilt and his anger and his loneliness and most of all he understands what marc needs. when marc is with frenchie he doesn't hide who he is, and as such we end up seeing the softest version of himself. and that is so fucked up how marc does not realise that at his core he is warm and kind and capable of so much love and compassion because he has been forced to mask over and over again that he doesn't even know who he is anymore. and yes that can tie into the did because i do not think it is a coincidence that people with did are often also diagnosed with autism. but that's another subject that i don't want to get into because i am just here to talk about autism.

does any of this make sense? is it coherent? am i just babbling nonsense into the void? idk but this was therapeutic for me <3 also sorry for getting so deep on ur ask i didn't intend to get right into it so heavily straight away 😭

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 44/52

May I? - 44/52

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Faith’s head felt like it had been split open, as though her brain were trying to escape its confines. When she attempted to open her eyes, blinding light forced them closed. The sharp pulses of pain were all too recognizable and conjured memories from a certain Jefferies tube several months ago.

Once she pushed past it, she realized she was surprisingly comfortable otherwise. A plush mattress lay under her, softer than the ones in hers and Data’s quarters which let her addled brain know she was not on the Enterprise.

The second time Faith forced her eyes open, she was forced to adjust to the bright light, only to find herself in a familiar room, in an equally familiar cabin. It took a moment to put a name to the place.

Sunterre Isles. Her and Data’s little romantic hideaway.

The recollections came flooding back, bringing with them a gentle smile as Faith rolled over. In her dazed, concussed state, she expected Data to be laying beside her, only to come face-to-face with Lore.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Faith leapt out of bed, which proved to be the stupidest decision she could have made because it sent her world spinning out of focus. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet in her struggle to remain upright.

“Fuck!” she swore, clutching her head as she stumbled backward into the corner of the room. Her stomach churned unpleasantly making her mouth salivate as bile rose into her throat. It took all she had not to throw up all over herself.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Lore said, not sounding remotely sorry. “You were in a little accident but, honestly, it’s your own fault for running.”

He remained lounging in bed, his head propped up on his fist. Now that Faith studied him, she took note of the three slashes across his face caused by Spot and it gave her a deep sense of satisfaction. He’d be hard-pressed to pass himself off as Data anytime soon.

“Why did you bring me here?” she demanded.

“You humans are like holovids stuck on repeat,” Lore said with a snort as he sat up. “You ask the same questions again and again.”

“Only when we don’t get a fucking answer.”

“Language, Faith. I had no idea you were so unladylike.” His smirk grew wider, giving his expression a clown-like visage. “That’s not true. I’ve known you to do some very unladylike things.”

A shiver ran down her spine as if someone had slipped an ice cube into her uniform. “You…you spied on us even then?” she asked, her voice cracking as that bile increased.

“Only here,” Lore answered flippantly. “The Enterprise’s monitoring doesn’t record quarters unless specified. Not to mention it wasn’t something I was interested in seeing given that he’s my brother and all that.”

“But you watched us here! You…you sick, twisted, demented, motherfucker!”

He was in her face a moment later, grabbing her upper arms tight enough to hurt.

“Name calling is most unbecoming,” he snarled, eyes brimming with rage as he gave her a violent shake. “I would be very careful how you speak to me. I’m your only hope for survival. I can be malicious…” He leaned in close, forcing her to turn her face away. “Or I can be benevolent. The choice is yours.”

“You just told me you intruded on intimate moments between me and the man I love,” she forced through clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice from trembling. “I’m allowed to be angry.”

Lore rolled his eyes and let her go, mood switching in the blink of an eye once again. “Relax, I didn’t watch the entire time,” he assured her with a dismissive wave. “Once I realized what was going on I made myself scarce. However, I heard more than enough.”

White-hot anger made Faith bristle. If she knew it would hurt him, she’d find the nearest heavy object and hurl it at Lore. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do any good. Neither would triggering his temper. His lack of control was incredibly dangerous and unpredictable. If she was going to get out of there alive, she had to tread lightly.

What would Data do? she asked herself. How would he handle this? He’d tell you to remember your breathing and think things through. Patience is your best option.

Since Lore seemed to like the sound of his own voice, she had the sense if she could keep him talking, she could avoid his wrath.

She knew every inch of that cabin and how far it was from the main building. If she had the chance to make a break for it, she was more than willing to bide her time. Of course, there was a possibility they weren’t really there, that everything was a carefully constructed holodeck program. She needed more intel, a way to know for sure if she truly was where they appeared to be.

“I can’t believe you were the one who orchestrated all this,” she said, her eyes trained on her kidnapper. “It’s been months. It must have been frustrating having to hide behind Konro.”

“More like necessary. Being one of the only sentient androids in the universe paints a giant target on your back. Besides, how else would I be able to see what Data was up to? The Federation’s reach is vast but not as strong as they would like to think. Their enemies are numerous and offering the right intel and price can get someone far.”

“Why bother? Don’t you have better things to do than tracking Data? You’re clearly smart and capable. You could build a proper life for yourself.”

Lore scoffed in amusement. “Flattery. A cheap ploy but an admirable effort and appreciated. As for a life, a life of what exactly? Of being hunted? Disassembled and studied, to be the model for cheap imitations? It’s either that or hiding out on some distant planet and dying as a hermit, like my father. Neither sound appealing.”

“He only died because you killed him.”

“A minor unimportant detail. Regardless, what better way to use my time than taking my brother down a peg or two? He’s had everything while I’ve had nothing. He needs to experience what it’s like to have everything you’ve known ripped away.”

As Lore spoke, his pitch and expression fluctuated with each word, like he was experiencing multiple emotions back to back with no pause or transition between them.

Faith tried to recall everything she had learned about him but her injury caused gaps in her memory. However, it had become apparent that Lore could be triggered by anything which made her job all that more challenging.

But that wasn’t the only challenge.

Standing became a chore and Faith’s hand slammed against the wall as the world tipped. The next thing she knew, she was falling. Lore moved too fast for her to see. One moment, he was turned away and the next he was catching her before she hit the ground.

It became a bizarre parody of her first meeting with Data, down to the concerned expression on Lore’s face. It only lasted a second, replaced almost instantly by a smirk.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go jumping out of bed with a concussion,” he suggested. “You know how fragile you humans are.”

Despite her weakened state, she shoved his arms away and managed to stand on her own. “You’re the one who smashed my head into the wall,” she snapped, pressing her fingers to her temple. They came away wet with blood. “And you couldn’t even be bothered to heal me. Thanks for nothing.”

Her feet tripped over themselves in her attempt to reach the bed. Once more, Lore was by her side to help. She didn’t know why and if she were in a better physical state she would have slapped his hands again. But she didn’t have the luxury of declining his help. Reluctantly, she allowed his assistance.

In her mind, Beverly’s voice whispered, Milk the injury. He wants you helpless? Give him what he wants.

He wants you as his victim, Deanna’s voice chimed in. So play the victim.

Trying not to oversell it, she eased herself down and collapsed against the pillows. It was an easy enough ploy considering how weak she was.

“In the interest of you not bleeding out, I suppose I can do something about the wound,” Lore huffed.

There was annoyance in his tone, however, for once Faith’s anxiety came in handy. She had always been acutely aware of the feelings of others; even the slightest change in someone’s demeanor rarely escaped her notice. Lore’s lack of concern felt forced, as though he were trying to conceal a sliver of empathy. The change confused and intrigued her.

However, she had to remind herself that he wasn’t Data. His feelings seemed to affect him on a larger scale than Data’s initially had. Was it the chip or his lack of direction/human interactions? Data had her, their friends, and a trained professional to help guide him. Lore had not.

“The least you can do is replicate a dermal regenerator,” she said, keeping her voice low and light, as though each word was a struggle.

Lore crossed to the replicator but before he used it, he gave her a pointed look, “If you’re thinking of replicating something, don’t bother. I’ve made some adjustments so it only responds to my commands.”

“Of course you did.”

Faith had already assumed that every piece of technology in reach was compromised. She also had to assume he knew nearly everything about her that Data knew. After all, he had been watching them. She never thought she would be in a position to outsmart an android, and yet, that was exactly what she would have to do if she was going to survive.

Lore brought over a dermal regenerator and, though it went against every one of her instincts, she turned her injury towards him, symbolically showing trust. When their eyes met, there was a flicker of something in his, almost surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected her passivity, and when he reached out, the fingers that brushed her hair aside were gentle. He could be simply moving her hair away, giving himself a better view of her wound, though, she didn’t remember Beverly stroking her hair like that in Sickbay.

It was something Data had done, though.

Lore caught himself and pulled his hand back a little too quickly. His focus turned to the device in his hand and once he finally sealed the cut, Faith’s pain significantly eased.

There was still the concussion she had to deal with but her thoughts became sharper. She did everything in her power to keep her body lax and loose, trying not to betray the new surge of energy.

“There, good as new,” Lore said, tossing the regenerator aside carelessly. “Is this how you reeled my brother in? Of course he’d be pulled in by a damsel in distress. He always was a do-gooder.”

“I suppose so,” Faith said. “I was injured and he took me to Sickbay. That’s how we officially met. But, you’ve been watching us so I assumed you knew that already.”

“I’ve seen the footage of you two in Sickbay but not before. Jefferies tubes don’t have cameras.”

Interesting. Anything between me and Data that happened there and in our quarters remains between us. Good to know.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re doing all of this, as from getting even with Data,” she said, attempting to slur her words as she spoke. She slowed her blinking and tried to keep her breathing even, as though she were on the verge of passing out again.

Lore reached forward and it took everything in her not to flinch. With a sardonic chuckle, he fluffed her pillow.

“All in good time. Now, I believe you need rest.”

Faith pretended to force the sleep away. “No, I’m fine. I’m not going to lay around while you do whatever the hell you’re planning.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice.” He flicked her nose. “Don’t worry, Faith, you are perfectly safe, safer than you were with Fajo at least.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe a word of anything you say.”

Lore grinned. “See? Smart. Very smart. We’ll get along just fine.”

Faith bit back her arguments, choosing to close her eyes, and while the serene darkness of unconsciousness called, she fought it tooth and nail.

With every ounce of willpower and all the tricks Deanna taught her, she kept her breathing even and focused on her goal. She was well aware that waiting an android out was a neigh impossible task, but she had no other choice. She had to observe what Lore did, to listen and track his movements.

Would he be there the entire time, watching her sleep? Would he leave? Were they really on an island or was it a holodeck situation? She still hadn’t heard or seen anything to prove one theory or the other.

The possibilities were limitless.

So, Faith pretended to fall asleep. She kept her eyes closed and her body still, her breathing even. The breaths calmed her racing heart, slowed her pulse, and sold the act. She knew she had to because her life literally depended on it.

Lore sat on the edge of the bed for a long time. She could feel his eyes on her, an unnerving stare that under normal circumstances would make her fidget and bristle.

There was a moment where he moved and she could feel his hand hover. She felt the softest brush of his fingers through her loose curls, her braid long since unraveled. She ignored the touch and focused on her breathing and regulating her body. A second later, he felt the pulse on her neck and she mentally congratulated herself on her diligence. It was as steady as anyone’s would be while resting.

“What does my brother see in you?” he muttered to himself. “I guess I could see the appeal from an aesthetic standpoint. Smarts and cleverness could also be a factor…”

His words faded as he watched her for a second more. There was a moment when the fingers tracing her cheek drifted, almost touching her lips. But a second later his hand was gone and he finally left her bedside.

Faith kept up the pretense, not daring to open her eyes even a little. Instead, she listened for Lore’s steps, listened as he moved throughout the cabin toward the replicator. Occasionally, the steps paused and that sensation of being watched came back. But she didn’t let it break her rhythmic breathing, knowing full well that his sharp eyes would catch the quick rise and fall of her chest.

Real sleep still called and she found it becoming increasingly difficult to stop it. However, right when she was on the precipice of actually falling asleep, the quietest squeak of the front door closing brought her right back. It provided the answer to the most pressing of her questions.

They really were in the cabin on the Isles. Her surroundings weren’t a projection.

With a renewed energy, Faith counted to one hundred before attempting to crack an eye open. Greeted by an empty cabin, she hesitantly opened both eyes, giving the large room a quick sweep. Lore was gone, and since the only other room in the building was the bathroom, which she could tell was also empty, she had to conclude he had slipped away.

If the clock on the wall was correct, it was only a few hours after her abduction and she had to assume help was on the way. Worf saw the fight, he would know exactly who took her.

There was no telling how long Lore would be gone and she was unwilling to move until she had a plan. The dermal regenerator remained where he tossed it. Once her eyes landed on the device, a plan sprung to mind. Because she had something that Lore hadn’t noticed or confiscated: a jagged metal device that was currently in her pocket.

In one fluid, purposeful movement, she slid out of bed and scooped up the dermal regenerator, tucking it under her shirt just in case. Lore didn’t appear or burst through the door, so she made a beeline for the bathroom.

It wasn’t until she locked the door that she let out a deep exhale. True, it wouldn’t be any match for android strength, but it would buy her time. Faith turned on the light and the shower, just in case her captor returned.

There wasn’t much in the room that she could use to her advantage, only the necessities. And a small window she could probably squeeze through. It faced the back of the cabin, the opposite of the main door and open expanse of beach. If she was quick enough, she could book it to the main building.

Big if.

I have to try, she thought.

Except, she had a sneaking suspicion that the moment she opened the window, alarms would go off. Thinking fast, Faith noticed a computer panel similar to the main one in the other room. Since the two panels shared a wall, she could access it from where she was if she could break through.

Feeling along where the wires would be, she could sense the gentle hum of energy, stopping only when she felt it ease.

Faith opened the dermal regenerator and played with the settings, turning off the safety protocols. A few more small modifications turned the device into a laser scalpel instead, which she used to cut carefully through the wall.

She kept her ears open for any sounds coming from the other room. But Lore did not return, which did little to soothe her nerves. There was no chance that he was far away, not after what it took to bring her there. He would remain close even if he was out of sight.

Once the piece came free, she placed it on the sink and did what she did best: engineer.

With access to the main console from the inside, she extracted wires and rerouted controls to the panel in the bathroom. Sweat bedded her brow and dripped down her nose as the heat from the shower mixed with her adrenaline.

Eventually, she freed the necessary wires and pulled the communicator out of her pocket. It was easy enough to pop off the cover, exposing the inner workings. After a bit of finagling, she connected it directly to the system before putting the piece of wall back in place. It wasn’t by any means sturdy but at a glance it would do for the time being.

Faith knew there was a strong possibility that Lore was connected with the system and was monitoring everything she was doing. Yet, took solace in the fact that he hadn’t burst in to try to stop her yet. Even Data needed to be connected to the ship to access all its inner workings. She had to assume it was the same for Lore as well.

Using the communicator and her engineering skills, she bypassed any and all overriding protocols simply by not engaging with them. If he was somehow connected, taking down all the defenses would no doubt catch his attention. Communications were disabled, which she assumed would be the case.

However, she had her own communication device. Using the main power for support, she boosted Data’s communicator signal. How far, she couldn’t tell, but she knew it should be able to be picked up from a considerable distance, so long as the Enterprise knew where to look. She considered recording a message but knew it was too risky. The signal was her best bet. 

And deep down, Faith’s instincts told her that Data would find her. She just had to give herself some time. Once the signal was boosted as far as it could go, she turned her attention to the cabin.

After a few precious seconds, she heard the window behind her click as she disabled it. Since she couldn’t risk a simple unlock, she just deleted the program from the system. As far as the computer knew, there was no window there to lock in the first place.

Faith wasted no time throwing the window open. A rush of sea air swept through the room but she couldn’t enjoy it. With one foot on the toilet, she hoisted herself up and through in one fluid movement that would have made Worf proud.

Only to get stuck.

“Fucking…hell…” she ground out, trying to wriggle free. “Goddamn hips!”

Even through her uniform, she could feel the scraping of the frame against her skin but after a bit of sucking in and determination, she slipped out of the window, falling in the most graceless heap onto the ground.

The moment she got her legs under her, she booked it for the tree line. The main building was due east. If she got deep enough in the brush, she could loop around and—

Faith slammed against a force field so hard she was sent flying backward, landing hard enough on her back to knock the wind out of her. As she lay there in pain, trying to catch her breath, Lore appeared, leaning over her.

“Bet that hurt,” he said, nonplussed by her escape efforts.

“I had to try,” she managed to say through gasping breaths.

“You would have been successful if I hadn’t thrown up this shield as a precaution. How did you know we were here and not in a holodeck?”

“The front door. It has a distinct, quiet squeak that you wouldn’t have known or cared enough about to program in.”

“You are way too smart for your own good, you know that? Come on, up, up, up!”

He lifted her up and over his shoulder with ease, where she remained limp like a proverbial sack of potatoes. The action and pressure on her chest did nothing to help her catch her breath. Unable to resist, she allowed him to carry her back towards the cabin as the lush forest grew further and further away, and with it, her one chance to escape.

Instead of bringing her inside, Lore moved towards the water and, for a brief moment, she was afraid he was going to toss her in. When he deposited her back onto her feet, she sighed with relief and met his eye.

“You know this is pointless, right?” she told him. “You won’t bend and neither will I. All your stalking should have shown you that I can be a stubborn bitch when I want to be.”

Putting his hands on her shoulders, Lore chuckled with amusement. “You know, normally this human ‘can do’ attitude is annoying, yet you somehow manage to come across as endearing. I meant what I said earlier, I really would like to get to know you better. See if I can figure out what my brother sees that I don’t.”

He spun her around and, at that point, Faith couldn’t muster the indignation at seeing the romantic dinner date Data had replicated for her once upon a time.

Lore stepped around her to pull out her chair. “Here, have a seat. I know you never got to truly enjoy this date the last time it was presented to you. However, you will find that I make much better company than my brother.”

Faith had told herself to buy time and if this was the game Lore was playing, she would play too. She was trapped, with no way safely through his defenses and no chance of outrunning him. From limited options, she was left with just the one.

Game on, Lore, she thought as she silently took her seat. Game fucking on.

[incorrect-koh-posts]

☯♥ ☠✿ - SALAHUDDIN

♡♥☆✿ - King Baldwin IV

Am I even doing this right? By the way, good luck my friend!

Hi :) Frankly, I don't have much of an idea how this works either, but I think we're doing all right so far, my friend 😉 Let's go, then!

Note: These headcanons are very much based on the characters in Kingdom of Heaven and not on their actual historical counterparts.

1) SALAH AD-DIN

☯ Likes / Dislikes

When he is not currently engaged in a campaign, Salah ad-Din enjoys the finer things in life. He likes to listen to poets and musicians, and often invites scholars to Damascus with whom he has long conversations about philosophy and religion. But aside from these social occasions, he is also a man for the quiet moments: taking a cool bath after a long ride, perhaps, or strolling through the desert at night while on a campaign, thinking about everything and nothing under the silver spray of the stars.

Hence, since he is such a calm, collected man, he dislikes people who are impatient and ruled by their emotions, people who take things for granted and have neither appreciation nor respect for the world and all the living things that inhabit it.

♥ Family

As the head of the Ayyubid dynasty, Salah ad-Din's concerns with family revolve mostly around continuing his bloodline. While he appreciates his wives and lovers and was happy about every one of his (many :D) children, his duties as the leader of the Saracens do not allow him to spend much time with his family. As a result, there is always a certain distance between them and Salah ad-Din, no matter how much he loves them. Since he holds other people to the same high standards as he holds himself, he often comes across as a strict father and husband whose respect and affection are won only with difficulty but treasured all the more dearly.

☠ Angry / Violent

Salah ad-Din is not a short-tempered man. Throughout his life, it has been vital for him to be able to keep his emotions in check - to show his men that he is in control of both his army and whatever situation he finds himself in at all times, and not a slave to his passions. It is a difficult thing to drive this man to true anger. But if you do manage to provoke him enough ... oh boy. Better brace yourself for an oncoming storm - icy and quiet and tightly controlled, but a storm nonetheless. When this man narrows his eyes at you and speaks in a low, clipped voice, you can be sure that he is furious inside.

✿ Sex

As a lover, Salah ad-Din is best described as intense. He is confident and decidedly not ashamed of showing a lover what he likes and dislikes in bed. Since he knows that showing any sign of weakness or loss of control in public might prove fatal, he treasures the intimate moments he gets to spend with a partner or a lover all the more. Whether in bed or out of it, Salah ad-Din generally tends to be rather quiet but dominant, always making sure that his partner is having a good time as well. Though he isn't always gentle, he is never violent or cruel, and might also enjoy some rougher practices provided his lover is happy with that.

2) BALDWIN IV

♡ Romantic

Despite his illness and the stifling duties and responsibilities that come with his kingship, Baldwin has not turned bitter, but has - in some small, secret corner of his heart - remained a romantic. In his youth, he often developed infatuations with some of the girls that came to court to serve as Sibylla's ladies-in-waiting, but was too self-conscious to ever approach them and, thus, ultimately disappointed.

Now, as a young man, his expectations for romance are very low. He knows that he can never take a wife or sire children; due to his leprosy, most physical acts are out of the question. Still, he has not given up hope altogether that one day he might encounter someone with whom he can connect on a mental and spiritual level; he yearns for company, and for striking up an understanding with someone who isn't repulsed by his condition. Someone with whom he could converse for hours, sitting in the palace gardens or in his rooms, poring over a scroll of Arabic poetry or playing a leisurely game of chess; someone who has both wit and a deep appreciation for life.

Thus, if Baldwin ever happened to find that sort of person, he would be very careful not to mess things up between them. He would likely spend a significant amount of time contemplating whether it would be worth potentially ruining their friendship to pursue a romance bound to end far too soon. So, while Baldwin might show his interest in his own understated way, the other person would probably have to make the first step for this romance to ever come to fruition. But once he knew he was loved and wanted, he would worship his partner and try to fulfill their every wish, wanting to spend as much time with them as he can without compromising his duties to his people. It wouldn't be a love filled with scorching passion and grand gestures, but rather something warm and gentle, based on mutual understanding and support.

♥ Family

Being a scion of the House of Anjou and a dying dynastic line, Baldwin values family very highly. Though his relationship with his father was rather distant, he loved his mother, Agnes, with all his heart, despite many of his courtiers thinking her a meddling old hag. He is equally devoted to his little nephew, with whom he gladly spends time whenever Sibylla allows him to, teaching the boy to play chess and trying to prepare him for his future role as king as gently as he can.

Baldwin's relationship with Baudouinet actually tends to mirror the one he and the Count of Tiberias had when Baldwin was a child. Though Tiberias is his second cousin, Baldwin has always regarded him as a sort of kindly uncle, looking up to him and feeling much closer to him than to his own father. Their friendship was often strained during the years Tiberias acted as regent; and despite now - as an adult - much more clearly seeing the older knight's faults, Baldwin still greatly appreciates his advice and company.

The most complicated relationship Baldwin has among his family is the one with Sibylla. He is very fond of his sister in a melancholy, what-might-have-been kind of way; the fact that they did not grow up together and rarely saw each other as children, Sibylla being shut away in a convent, still taints their interactions as adults and often makes things awkward between them. Baldwin knows that Sibylla, in her own capricious way, loves him and cares for his well-being. But somewhere deep inside he mourns that they never had a chance to get to know each other better. Hence, he tries to make up for this deficiency by at least caring for her son as well as he can, knowing that if he had been fortunate enough to have had children of his own, he could not have loved them more than he loves his nephew.

☆ Happy

Baldwin is not the type of person to openly show his happiness. He learnt early on to restrain himself, for a boy-king afflicted with leprosy always proves an easy target. But if you look closely enough, some little tells might betray his joy: a certain warmth about his bright blue eyes, perhaps, or a peculiar softness to his voice that even the mask cannot quite hide.

What makes Baldwin happy are small gestures, in particular. It might be someone taking the time to read to him or simply sit with him in companionable silence without him having to demand it. It might be his little nephew managing to beat him at chess, or one of the rare moments of easy conversation and laughter with Sibylla. It might be someone touching his bandaged hand, or softly touching his shoulder, or simply smiling about something he said. He might not let it on, but the king notices it all and, secretly, feels his heart soar at whatever little thing that tells him that God cannot have forsaken him, after all.

✿ Sex

Since the leprosy has likely rendered most parts of his body numb and weakened him physically, sex in the traditional sense is probably not much of a possibility for Baldwin. With a new partner, he would likely be very shy and embarrassed about the whole ordeal at first, feeling insufficient and incapable and being afraid of disappointing his lover. Thus, some gentle assurances and encouragement in this area would surely go a long way.

Seeing how his political life basically revolves around the constant fear of having his power taken away from him, Baldwin would probably hate the idea of being largely passive in bed. So, sex with him would involve a) a lot of talking (not necessarily dirty) and b) him being very generous in terms of pleasuring his lover. He might come up with some imaginatively suggestive things to whisper in their ear, or tell them what to do to themselves while he holds them close or simply watches. Also, touch-starved as he is, he'd definitely be into cuddling.

Want to hear my headcanons for one or two KoH characters of your choice?

[limpfisted]

WYLL’S FLAWED PERSPECTIVE. or, how to “read” my replies!

i personally believe wyll is a flawed character and its important to give him the full spectrum of emotions beyond “good” “kind” or “bad” “evil.”

i am personally working on trying to stay “ic” and true to my characters, without pushing the character into saying something that will like, be good for a ship, or like, be an “rp people pleaser” if that makes senses!

i don’t JUST want to have interactions where wyll is perfect. to me, wyll has flaws in the way he communicates and sees the world. this does not mean he is not heroic, or a kind, decent man—it just means i love him as a character for his layers. these things make him more REAL and complex than i think wyll as a PERSON wants to be, in a kind of “hide my truth, hide my feelings, elsa frozen kinnie” way

so without further ado, here are some things wyll might do or want to do or say incorrectly or percieve your character in the wrong way even tho i personally would not behave in the same ways irl On Purpose For Some Of These Things

CONDESCENDING. wyll believes he knows best. wyll believes he can say all the right words and “fix things.” he can make EVERYTHING better. he has a SAVIOR COMPLEX. while never being a perfect martyr, he really does think he can “ahaaha dont have depression ur so sexy” ur ass by being gentle and kind and roleplaying a fairy tale with you. additionally, if you seem “soft” in some way, or “meek” in some way, wyll want to “help you” more.

AVOIDANT. wyll does not want to talk about what he wants, what he notices, what he feels, except in poetryor tall tales or threats of violence. his pretty words sometimes hide an emptiness, a dreaminess. he speaks of things he cannot have and will not ask for. he is embarrassed to want, embarrassed to need, attention, desire, anything but charm and protecting the innocent and meek.

OVERLY ROMANTIC. this ties in with above. he idealizes people, he puts them on pedestals, he treats them like they are made of glass. he does not humanize others or himself enough, and prefers to live in a world of fantasies and pretend.

BOASTFUL. wyll tries to be humble—but this is to match a persona. if you dive even slightly deeper into things, he’s all too happy to tell you how strong and heroic he is, to the point of condescion and vanity. on the other hand, he will not take you seriously if you threaten him! he’ll threaten you back! he doesnt give a single fuck!

BLACK AND WHITE THINKING AND SNAP JUDGEMENTS. to wyll, you are either “hunter” “prey” “hero/villain” the person he needs to protect people from. he will bide his time—but it is difficult for him to trear villains kindly, and he will NEVER truly respect them as people, unless they prove they have changed or are not trying to hurt anyone currently.

WILL WORK WITH VILLAINS. WILL MAKE DEALS WITH DEVILS. WILL ALSO HUNT THEM FOR SPORT. easy to understand, wyll believes he can “control” devils, if they are useful to him. wyll can ally with evil—even if he is just biding his time to kill them later.

VIOLENT. ROLEPLAYER. if you are evil, he will just want to kill you and that’s that! he wanted to kill every goblin at that camp! he relishes in violence as long as it’s for justice. he gets off on the power and pomp of it n his heroism—even when its not actually heroic

WORDS GET AWAY FROM HIM. he will speak with intention, but has a tendency to ramble poetically. when angry, and threatening someone, sometimes he makes no sense at all bc he just wants murder myrder death death justice

A SILLY BILLY!! he can take himself very seriously, but also he is brainweird and skin hungry n loves to touch n be weird and wrestle n write funny poems and get drunk n dance under the stars. he’s a silly ex-(would have been a theatre kid but his dad wanted him to join jrotc instead) kid! he likes big bold gestures. he is EXTREMELY REPRESSED, but the closer he gets to u, the more ull see his joy n not just his “good hero”

DEEPLY LONELY AND APPROVAL SEEKING. wyll really likes it when people pay attention to him. nore than he likes actually doing good things, sometimes. note: there is nothing wrong with doing good things for recognition, everyone deserves recognition of hard work n pain. but it still makes him more interesting to me than generic hero!:

EASILY CORRUPTABLE / MOLDABLE / MANIPULATED. he approves of killing for auntie ethel n them immediatley goes. oh. fuck. oh no…. i fucked up. im trash…. he got i. cahoots with mizora and thinks he CHOSE that bc hes so so good!

NOT IN TOUCH WITH HIS FEELINGS. wyll doesn’t always know wgat’s going on his beain/heart, n honestly he doesn’t want to think abt it too hard! but i will! i always will, wyll.

SMART, BUT DOESN’T CARE ENOUGH TO QUESTION. i dont feel like writing anymore god free me. free me from the sin of my hubris. free me. no more writing

THERE ARE MORE THINGS PROBABLY BUT I DONT FERL LIKE WRITING THEM. LOOK AT MY PRETTY HC BANNER ITS SO PRETTY. GOODBYE FOREVER

something so,ething hes traumatized and pushes people away n puts them on a pedestal so they can never know how scarred and scared and unworthy he feels bc of the deep loneliness inside him from his family’s emotional instability coupled with being homeless as a teenager with only an abuser to guide him thru his late teens, etc

[ignis-writes]

The next 50 days

Pairing: Captain Syverson × Female Reader

Summary:Unsaid goodbyes

Pov: First person pov

Warnings: Mentions of war, injury, and slight angst. Lemme know if there is anything else.

Author's note: I’m not an experienced writer and this work is not BETA’d. Plus, English is not my first language so watch out for obvious mistakes. Goodluck with my first ever fic

Plus: Do not plagiarize/translate my work. I do not own Cpt: SY or Sandcastle

gif: @henrycavell

  Standing alone at the departure terminal of the airport, I saw him chatting up with his comrades. It felt different to see him from afar under the bright lights of the crowded hall. I yearned for a glance, a smile, or a silent nod. But just like last summer, my mind was conflicting and unsure about him, about craving his attention. Why is he so oblivious to my stare? Or is he willfully ignoring me? Well…Not that he is to be blamed either.  

I’ve successfully managed to stave off my beloved captain for the past few days at the camp and now he is avoiding my eyes and attention. I don’t wanna look back at the hazy memories of all that happened over the last 4 months, sometimes it makes me feel like he’s been avoiding me all along. Like I  just didn’t get the hint. 

 I’m not so sure though, I don’t remember half of what happened at camp warhorse, to be honest. But the fire, bright lights, and bullet wounds are way too vivid to be slipping past my memory in this lifetime. 

Yet here I am wondering how it started, how it progressed, and how it broke apart.

Most of the folks in the forces knew him for a battle-hardened soldier who got the shit done. Just another shallow southern man looking for the high of guns, bullets, and desert heat. But for anyone who stood under his command, he was a lot more. He was a smart, compassionate, opinionated man. An understanding, leader, and honest friend. He was an ally and family.

Retaining an isolated unit deep in enemy territory is hard, not everyone slides along the job easily. But Syverson did, or so he made them think. It takes a man in charge to play many roles to be effective in this never-ending survival battle, but it comes at a cost, And Syverson was paying. Paying alone for the risk he took for an entire unit. But I did see more than he meant to show, I saw open wounds hiding in plain sight. I saw the curious child, the hopeless romantic, the nerd, the loving man. I saw the smile and  smoke in him. And I loved him for it. Mistake no 1. Love was never meant to be for us.

But he loved me. Despite hearing the whimpers of pain beneath my angry battle cry,  And the groans of desperation hidden in the monotonic answers he saw a girl who loved ice creams, autumn and lil fairy gardens. He saw the girl being scared, sad and sensitive. He saw her happy, proud and courageous. He felt her, felt the desperation to be with her. The urge to steal her away from the world and hid her in his own sand castle. 

For the first time in my life, I felt content, and peace, in his arms. And I fell asleep forgetting the dessert’s crossfire. Just when I thought I could live in this dream we built upon sand and lead, I was shaken out of it by the violent tremor of the very ground I stood in. I found myself alone. Again. in front of the broken sand castle. Still shivering and lost. Confused as I felt when it all started

Maybe we were destined to know each other, to hurt each other. And to be strangers again. It didn’t matter at the moment though, my numb mind was already sliding into a painful longing. Longing for him. A torturous longing I will have to live through  the long flight home and the next 50 days.

Please like, reblog and leave comments.

[ocean-blue-whump]

All the Light is Gone

Sunny + Star Masterlist

Thank you so much to @painful-pooch for helping me realize how I wanted to take this story. 

Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional @winedark-whump - let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, male whump, DEATH, drunk and angry whumper, bonded whumpees, Romantic whumpees, just a whole lot of fear and conditioning, brief mention of self-harming behavior due to stress, mild sexism 

***

“No, you stupid bitch, that’s not what I—“ Hunter sighs in frustration, slamming his fist into the doorframe. “Fuck! Don’t you dare hang up on me, I will fire your ass so fast and make sure your little bonuses aren’t enough to get you through the week!”

All of Comet’s senses are going into overdrive at how angry Hunter is, and he keeps one hand on Star’s back, a snarl stuck in his throat. Owner. Angry. Danger. He knows how it works. Mr. Bianchi has something bad happen at work, and he gets mad, and the bonded pair of pretty, breakable Romantics become his outlet. Speaking of…Sunny is kneeling next to Mr. Bianchi, visibly shaking with each time their owner raises his voice. 

He shouldn’t be that close, not when Mr. Bianchi is so angry. The Romantics are gorgeous things, and Comet doesn’t understand why they’re starved, especially Star. His heart warms as he looks down at her, despite how tense she is. He loves her, but the bond between her and Sunny…

He loves her and he protects both of them when Mr. Bianchi’s guests get too handsy. That’s all he can do. 

Another shout from Mr. Bianchi has all three pets violently flinching. “Are you really that dumb? Do you understand how fucking basic this is? A goddamn baby could do it. My fucking pets could do it! Even the brainless mutt of a Guard Dog.”

It’s not supposed to hurt. But it does, and Comet tries to keep the red off his face, knowing it’ll only enrage the man. 

“Maybe you should sell yourself to WRU. I think you’d be better as a Romantic than my employee.” Hunter rolls his eyes. “Don’t trust a woman to do anything that requires the smallest bit of thinking.”

A particularly vicious kick to the doorframe has Sunny whimpering, his blue eyes full of fear, and Comet can tell that Sunny is doing his best not to pull away. 

He doesn’t envy that about the Romantics, all the training so they stay in place when a hand wraps around their necks and squeezes. 

Comet gets to pull away. Sunny stays still like a good boy, and Star gets beat into the ground for daring to move. He can feel it now, how she wants to run to the boy and save him. He keeps his hand on her back. Don’t move, or he’ll make me hurt you and that hurts me too.

“Oh, don’t tell me that I’m sexist, sweetheart, I got two Romantics and they’re different genders…I mean, yeah, I treat the girl worse cause she’s a fucking bitch! Just like you, sweetheart. Awh, you want to file a complaint against me? Did you forget who you work for? Yeah, you should be fucking scared!” Hunter punches the wall again and recoils in pain. “Fuck! Listen, you dumb bitch…”

Star’s head snaps up and her back straightens, taking a position of attention, and Ray’s heart drops when Mr. Bianchi notices. 

His smile is amused at first, but out of nowhere, his face twists with rage and he grabs an empty beer bottle, lobbing it at her head. 

There’s no time to prevent it from happening, and all Comet can do is watch. Star yelps as the bottle smashes into the side of her head, glass scattering everywhere. A few shards embed themselves into her face and the rest fall to the floor. 

Comet feels a surge in his chest, the need to protect her from Mr. Bianchi, but he’s powerless. If he does anything that he wasn’t ordered to, it’ll only get worse. 

Star picks the largest shard out of her face and throws it to the floor, a few drops of blood falling with it. Comet keeps his hand on her. Don’t move. Please, Star, don’t move.

You’re still pretty even with glass in your face and that makes me nervous.

“The dog thought I was talking to her. I’m not done with you, though. You fix your mistake now! I don’t fucking care if you don’t sleep for weeks.”

There’s a brief pause before Hunter gets quiet—a dangerous sort of quiet that sends a chill down Comet’s spine. “Say that again.”

It’s the eye of the storm and Comet knows tonight is only going to get worse.

“You fucked up that badly that we lost a fucking buyer?” Hunter’s hand fists in Sunny’s hair, drawing a whine from the boy. 

Both Star and Comet are tense, and he’s ready to grab her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. 

Hunter gives Sunny a condescending shake while he growls into his phone. “Listen. I’m done with you and your smartass mouth. I’ll give you ten minutes. Pack your shit and start running. Ten minutes before I send someone after you to make sure you don’t fuck anything else up. Got that, bitch?” There’s true venom in his voice as he hisses out, “I’m angry? You’re goddamn right I’m angry! You just cost me thirty thousand dollars!”

His grip tightens on Sunny’s hair and he lifts the boy up, slamming him full force into the wall. 

There’s a crunch. There’s a sickening crunch and then silence. Sunny falls to the ground, his body twisted like a puppet. His eyes flutter open only to flutter closed just as quickly. 

Comet doesn’t realize what the ear piercing scream is until he feels Star jolt, wanting to race forward. 

He holds her back. He holds her back and he knows, something deep inside him knows the boy didn’t make it, isn’t breathing anymore. 

Star feels it. She’s curled up and screaming, pushing against Comet with all her might but not going anywhere.

Mr. Bianchi is quiet too, but he keeps the phone to his ear as he bends down and presses two fingers to the inside of his neck. His cold, angry eyes lock onto Comet after a minute of poking and prodding with no response from Sunny. 

The boy doesn’t move, his neck bent at a cruel and unnatural angle. All the light has been sucked out of the room and Star is still screaming, clawing at the floor and Comet can feel her grief and anger. Her pain is so great that it clogs up the air and leaves an acidic taste on his tongue. 

Mr. Bianchi breathes out, his fingers still pressed against Sunny’s neck. “Comet, get her out of here.”

He can’t move, his eyes are locked onto Sunny’s…body. 

“Comet, now!” Mr. Bianchi roars. “Get that stupid dog out of here and make her stop screaming!”

The yelling snaps Comet back to reality, lets the white walls come crashing down and remind him that he needs to follow orders. But more importantly, as he picks up a screaming, shaking Star, he feels a pang deep in his chest. He can’t lose both of them, and Mr. Bianchi seems drunk and angry enough to lash out at Star and kill her too. 

He can’t lose both the people he lives for. He was trained to keep both of them in line and with both of them gone, what would he do? 

With both of them gone, what would happen to the warmth that blooms inside him when he sees them smile? 

Mr. Bianchi is still talking on the phone, still talking about his work, and Comet feels himself get mad. He’s a good dog, he knows he is, but he wants to lunge and rip out Mr. Bianchi’s throat, watch the red drip across the hardwood floor. 

Sunny is dead, so he doesn’t. Instead, he does what he can and holds Star close, carrying her up the stairs and being careful not to jar the glass still stuck in her face. 

Mr. Bianchi is still talking like he didn’t just kill Sunny, like in a split second he didn’t just rip a bonded pair apart. 

Like Star’s heart didn’t rip out of her chest the second Sunny was killed. 

She’s an incoherent mess by the time they’re back in the pet room, and it’s scaring Comet. Star isn’t the one who acts like this, she’s not the one who falls apart. He gently sets her on the floor before heading to the bathroom to grab the med kit, her sobs echoing around him. 

He sits on the floor and gently brings her head into his lap while he works at removing the glass with tweezers. 

“He’s g-g-gone…” Star stammers out, her chest heaving. “Sir killed him…he killed Sunny…killed me too…Comet, it hurts, this can’t be happening…”

All that only confirms Comet’s suspicions. She feels his pain like it’s her own, and with him gone, she’s falling apart. He runs his hand through her hair, and the other finishes pulling glass from her face. 

Star shudders, gasping for air. “I’m dying, I can’t…I can’t do this, I need him back!”

Comet doesn’t know what to do. He can’t make it better but he doesn’t like watching her suffer. He pulls her into his lap, pressing her back against his chest. “Do you want to sleep?” he murmurs, arms wrapped around her waist. 

She can’t stop crying, a seemingly endless stream of tears falling down her scarred face. “M-make it stop…I see him dying…why would Sir do that? I n-needed Sunny to survive and now he’s gone! I l-loved him…he was the good one, he was always the good one and this is my fault.”

He’s not supposed to talk much, but he hasn’t cared about that rule for a while. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispers into her hair. 

Star scratches at her arms, her whole body shaking like Mr. Bianchi had come at her with the taser. “You gotta bring him back, Comet. You need to.”

A sob gets stuck in Comet’s throat and he can’t push it down before the sound escapes. “I can’t, Star, please stop hurting yourself.” He was made for violence and at the end of the day, when all the light is gone, it’s the only thing that makes sense. He puts Star in a chokehold, feeling tears spill down his cheeks. “G-goodnight, Star.”

And then, once she’s limp in his arms and he can finally let go, he whispers, “I loved both of you and I can’t lose you too.”

The last time Comet cried was in the Facility, being beaten with a baton for misbehaving. He’s a good Guard Dog now, and good Guard Dogs don’t cry, but he’s not a good Guard Dog. He failed to protect the bondeds. 

Maybe Mr. Bianchi bought him not to protect them, but at some point, that changed. He curls himself over Star’s body, sobbing pathetically. He lives to protect them and he failed. 

He loved them both, but their Sunshine is gone. 

Sunny has gone and taken all the light with him. 

[nickeverdeen]

Hello! And yes, you can have a (Romantic(If ok))match up exchange(Tho it may take a bit of time cause I am working on a one shot write now that im really happily about so far :))

For the Match up fandoms can I have Detroit(I recently made my way back into this fandom by the threads of being borde and Bryan dechart being a meme/adorable) and the Umbrella academy(Any season)

I will say, character I dont want 100 percent from detroit; Kara(She cute but no), Hank(he's just so...angry) and the obviouses(GavinAliceAmandaEtc) and umbrella academy; Luther and Sir Hargreeves..... thats it.

Im an Aquarius born, ISTP(Or INTJ...im confused cause I toke two test and got two different answers) who is panromantic(With a male lean) and uses any pronouns(but more commonly She/her by peers)

I enoy reading, writing, horror anything(im watching a series with my mom and it gets really gross and the only thing im getting grossed out by is the mud that one person falls into), I weirdly like being feared(there was a rumor around in a small friend group that i have major angre issues and none of them would step close to me(I do but only if really triggered))music(I mainly enjoy rock, heavy metal and grunge with a few goth sounds, but I do like a few pieces like Emotional waltz) I enjoy cooking and having been a help in the kitchen,I find it amusing when I get to learn soemthing new with or from people, I like photography and I do alot of drawing, and I love bugs.

I dont like mud(Like said before), loud crowds, crowed spaces, the sun, rude people, red meats, being put in the line light, and country music.

My personaly is very much a rubber ball; will and can bounce around unpredictabily(As a child I was diagnosed with being Bipolar and to have ADHD), but majorit of the time, I look like a man in his 30's that only drinks either whiskey or coffee(and so ive been told in the hot way(ngl)), im not one be patience with people that waste my time and I have not patience for people that waste my friends time, I am very loyal and I find I can be very protective of my friends and if they're being mistreated I do get angred by this(I wanted one person D*ad for using my best friend for her own fun), but under my scary(Not my words) appearence, im actually very nice and easy to talk to.

My aesthetic is mainly a grungy cottage core like look with a few really bring vintage marvel shirts I stoll from my dad.

When Im looking for a relationship, I want someone that can keep up with me, cause sometimes I can be very all over the place and sometimes I like to just drift along, I want someone that is willing to learn things from me while I can learn things from them, and I search for loyalty in someone, not just to their partner but to their friends as well.

Hope you have a great day/night and respond to you soon!

Your Detroit Become Human match is…

Markus

He also enjoys reading and maybe sometimes writing

Markus isn’t really into the whole horror thing

Violent Markus would totally understand if you like being feared

But pacifist Markus doesn’t really get it

He can cook, but would be very happy if you’d decide to join him

Doesn’t get why you don’t like mud, but doesn’t make any kind of deal out of it

Markus himself doesn’t like crowds so he gets you with this one

Is aware that you have ADHD and are Bipolar, but to be honest he doesn’t really give a fuck

Appreciate your loyalty as he knows he can count on you

Don’t worry, he can keep up with you very easily

Markus is willing to try and do new things so that one is check

He is also very loyal to you and would never cheat on you

Gets really protective of you as well considering there’s marching or revolution going on

He cares for you a lot, but wouldn’t spoil you

You’re Markus’s comfort person

The one he will come up to if he’s very desperate

Or needs an advice

Or just comfort

Your The Umbrella Academy match is…

Five Hargreeves

Watches the horror with you and chuckles at the fact that you’re only grossed when the person falls into the mud

Five gets the fact that you like to be feared ‘cause so does he

Man can’t cook for his life

Please teach him or help him with it

Makes sure that no-one is rude towards you

I mean no-one has a death wish here

Keeps you away from loud crowds and crowded spaces

Five also finds it both hot and amusing that you look like a man in his 30’s that only drinks wiskey and coffee

He seriously likes your attidute and loyalty

Oh, he does understand your overprotectivness of your friends and loved ones

He is ready to kill/scare anyone if they would hurt you

Keep up with you? You would need to keep up with him

Five seriously doesn’t mind teaching his love new things

You can’t really teach him much considering he knows how to do a lot of stuff already

Comes to you with his problems

He trusts you fully

Would never cheat on you

He spend most of his life alone and to destroy your relationship ‘cause of someone else seriously ain’t worth it

Five loves you a lot

Be ready ‘cause his siblings would tease you two about your relationship

Mainly Klaus