#i never draw these three together..... criminal......

[mushroom-winners-proof]

i really liked how the commission i got to do for @fiveais turned out so with their permission i now present it to all of ye as well :)

commission info (as of 5/16/22)

#commission #kh #kingdom hearts #kh3 #kingdom hearts iii #xion #roxas #axel #lea #snap sketches #here take this while i shower ill draw the old men later #QUICK CONTEXT for the g's who read the tags #i like to do this thing where i give xion doll joints because im vile like that #and since kh3 roxas is also in a vessel yk.. we're here :) #and ais really liked that i did that so they asked me to draw these three together an all and BOY was i hyped to do it #cause i truly do love my goofy lil doll bs and having the opportunity to draw it is always good for my soul #but yeayea i really liked how this turned out- mostly the bg LMAO BUT ITS STILL CUTE #i never draw these three together..... criminal...... #well hope yall like this :) im gon go step in the freezer thats my shower now #its like 6AM this is a terrible time to see it but ill bump it later or something

[ddejavvu]

hi!!! ugh ive been rewatching criminal minds and i have such a bad spencer reid addiction

can i request something where y/n and spencer are both a little oblivious. they both like each other and have been on dates and are very close at work, but spencer just kind of assumed they were dating, but y/n didnt know because he never officially asked her to be his girlfriend?

Thank you soso much! im so in love with your wtiting

You and Spencer have very different responses to Penelope's giddy, "You guys are such a cute couple."

Spencer blushes, and ducks his head towards his desk with a smile on his face. He's mortified at the attention on him, but he relishes the compliment all the same. Your face heats up equally warm, but Spencer's thaws immediately when you grumble, "Penny, stop. We're not a couple."

You're not?

Spencer's head is no longer hung towards the desk, instead it's pointed at you with wide eyes and caution flickering in his irises.

"We aren't?"

Your brow furrows, and Penelope's smile begins fading. She lingers, but quickly feels the need to make herself scarce, and scurries away when you double down.

"When did we get together?"

Spencer flounders, his expression only growing more wounded, "We- I've been taking you out for weeks."

"Well- yeah," You stammer, "But- but that doesn't mean-! We're not together, Spence. You haven't asked me."

"I ask you on dates all the time." His voice is empty, clueless and dumbfounded, "We- isn't that dating?"

"We go on dates, but that doesn't mean we're dating!" You insist, years of nitpicky high school etiquette coming in handy, "You have to ask me, Spencer, you have to ask me to be your girlfriend."

"Oh." Spencer's shoulders slump slightly, and you realize with a start that he's contemplating asking.

"Do you want to be together?" You ask him incredulously, suddenly unsure of the dates you'd gone on with him in the past. Apparently they weren't satisfactory if he's not Every happy memory lodges itself like a poison dart into your rapidly beating heart, and you're confused when he nods vigorously.

"Okay. So~," You prompt, leaning towards him in your chair, "Are you going to- y'know, ask me?"

"Are you gonna say yes?" He asks, and though the question is unbearably stupid, the tone in which he asks it is soft and scared and endearing.

"Of course I'm gonna say yes!" You huff, "Spencer, I- I really like you."

"I really like you, too." The furrow in his brow smooths as the last thread of fear cinching it is snipped, and then his pretty pink lips part to finally ask, "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes," You gush, and you'd be embarrassed at how fast you shot from your chair to hug him if he hadn't done the same. The kiss you share is an awkward chaste one, because neither of you have forgotten that you're on duty in a government building, but Spencer's hands wrap tightly around your waist, and you sling yours over his lithe shoulders to crush him in a hug.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you sooner," He breathes, his voice barely audible even as he speaks against your ear, "I didn't know I was supposed to. I've never done this before."

"It's okay," You assure him, hiding your giddy grin in the knit of his sweater vest, "I'm sorry I scared you when I said we weren't. I just figured you weren't sure yet."

He draws back to thumb at the apple of your cheek, a lock of his hair dangling in front of his face from where it slipped from behind his ear.

"I'm sure," He vows, eyes boring into yours with a sincere sparkle, "And you're-? I mean, you're totally sure?"

"Totally," You let out a gushy laugh, "I'm glad you're my boyfriend, Spencer."

"Me too," He agrees, with a smile on his face that clocks in just short of disbelief, "And-! And I mean, I'm glad you're my girlfriend."

You're not permitted more than three seconds of the sentimental atmosphere you've created around you when Rossi decides you're distracting the rest of the team.

"Alright, lovebirds, this is wonderful for you, but I'm sure Hotch doesn't want you heavy petting on government time."

You flush and Spencer does the same, breaking away from you reluctantly as you grumble about government positions needing age caps. Rossi pays no mind to your insults, though, because Hotch's voice steals his attention, threaded with a spark of amusement.

"Oh, soften up, Dave." He calls from where he'd been obscured from view at the far end of the kitchenette, "I know you're three divorces bitter, but the rest of us are happy for them."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

[clumsyromantic]

NOT ANOTHER RAINBOW LEGACY CHALLENGE

Welcome to this ten generation legacy challenge based on vibrant colors! Inspired by all the other color themed legacies out there, because who doesn’t like basing their sims whole personality on a color (I know I’m a sucker for it lol). I won’t put a long list of rules here, because at the end of the day I want this to be your gameplay and story that you create. I will suggest that you follow each generation, but if something isn’t to your liking, by all means, change it for yourself. With that being said, don’t claim this challenge as your own, even if you tweak it. Remember, though, legacy challenges are all about having fun!

If you play don't forget to tag me here or on instagram @clumsy.romantic or use the hashtag #notanotherlegacy. I would really love to see some gameplay/stories!

Generation One: Licorice.

You never stay in one place too long. As a criminal, you’re always on the run. You don’t commit to anything. The only thing you’ve ever truly loved and committed to is your career. When it comes to actual love, you dip as soon as it seems like things might get serious. You don’t like being that close to people, letting people in like that. You can’t trust anyone, or so you thought.

Traits: Evil, Non-Committal, Romantic. (Additional: Self-Assured, Mean)

Aspiration: Serial Romantic.

Career: Criminal.

Have more enemies than friends.

Have a child with an enemy.

Move to a different world each time you age up.

Only your child(ren) can be your partner in crime.

Get caught cheating at least once.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Mischief, Handiness and Programming skills.

[Packs used: None]

Generation Two: Pearl.

From the time you could hold things, you were coloring, drawing, painting, anything that could help you express yourself. You are the exact opposite of your parent. Maybe you’re like the other one? You wouldn’t know, though. You never met them, nor heard a single truth about them. That doesn’t matter, though, because as soon as you can, you move out of your parents home so that you can start your own life and family. Love isn’t easy, as you don’t truly know what it’s supposed to look like, but with how kind and caring you are, it almost comes easy to you.

Traits: Creative, Cheerful, Family-Oriented. (Additional: Loyal, Good)

Aspiration: Big Happy Family. 

Career: Painter.

Complete the Artist Prodigy as a child.

Move to a different world from your parent.

Marry someone with amazing compatibility (or someone with similar traits).

Have 5 children.

Have a bowling night with the family at least twice a week.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Painting, Parenting and Bowling skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Growing Together, Parenthood, Bowling Night]

Generation Three: Latte.

You come from a big family, and you’ve always loved every bit of it. However, nothing can compare to the love you have for fitness. As a teenager, you become a simfluencer who models athletic wear and shows off your healthy lifestyle. As a Young Adult, you constantly have dogs. You tell yourself all you need is dogs, until you meet another fitness buff who you end up having a baby with.

Traits: Active, Dog Lover, Vegetarian. (Additional: Ambitious, Outgoing)

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals.

Career: Simfluencer.

Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings.

Go to the gym four times a week.

Change your hairstyle once a week.

Have at least 3 dogs as a YA.

Become a B-lister.

Have a baby with someone you meet at the gym (bonus points if they have the active skill).

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Fitness, Entrepreneur, Media Production, and Pet Training skills.

[Packs used: Cats & Dogs, High School Years, Get Famous]

Generation Four: Dandelion.

It was hard for you to relate to your parents, as they were much more outgoing and sociable than you were. Keeping up conversations and being around people always made you feel drained. You preferred being by yourself with a good book. It was usually a sci-fi book about robots. It’s no surprise that you’re the first in your family to go to university and you end up working in engineering. Your best friend, perhaps lover as well, is a robot you built. Seems like a good life to you.

Traits: Loner, Overachiever, Socially Awkward. (Additional: Bookworm, Geek)

Aspiration: Nerd Brain.

Career: Engineer.

Attend university.

Build a servo bot.

Be romantic partners with the servo.

Woohoo with the servo in the rocketship.

Only adopt or have science babies.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Logic, Handiness and Robotics skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Discover University]

Generation Five: Emerald.

You want to make the world a better place for the next generations. Everything you do involves Mother Earth. You live off the land, garden and fish for your food. You raise chickens for your eggs and cows for your milk. You also fabricate and make things for yourself, others and your animals. Some of the things you create you sell on Plopsy for income. You have a baby with someone you’re engaged to be married to. But as soon as you can, you pack up and leave them, taking the baby with you.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Freegan. (Additional: Green Fiend, Recycle Disciple)

Aspiration: Master Maker.

Career: Plopsy Seller.

Live in Evergreen Harbor (If you don’t already, move there as a YA).

Live in Port Promise, where you must make the eco footprint green.

Additional Challenge: have the Simple Living lot challenge in Evergreen.

Knitted and Fabricated items can be sold on Plopsy when you need simoleons.

Get engaged and try for a baby until one of you is pregnant.

Once you have reached green for the eco footprint; break off the engagement, take the baby and move to Sulani.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Knitting, Fishing, Gardening and Fabrication skills.

[Packs used: Eco Lifestyle, Nifty Knitting, Island Living]

Generation Six: Turquoise.

Growing up on a beautiful beach with your single parent doing everything for you made you into a spoiled brat. The only thing you actually want to do, besides sleep and chill, is fashion photography. You have a real eye for fashion. Although, you don’t really have a knack for picking up work. You’re more likely to be suntanning than actually doing your job. The few times you do accept a job, you fall in love with the model. Instead of falling happily in love together, you are constantly fighting, and to make matters worse, you have a kid together. Something neither of you wanted.

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Lazy, Hates Children. (Additional: Jealous, Squeamish)

Aspiration: Beach Life.

Career: Freelance Fashion Photographer.

Accept a job once a week.

Have a baby with one of the models that has the Mean, Hot-Headed or Evil trait.

Only have 1 child.

Have a bad relationship with your child.

Move to San Myshuno as an Adult.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Charisma and Photography skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, Outdoor Retreat, Moschino, City Living]

Generation Seven: Ruby.

You constantly heard your parents fighting over something. They were never not fighting. You found your solace in music; listening to it, writing it, playing instruments, just everything about it. You get married young just so you can move out. But you’re in love with a musician on the side. You’re not really sure if you should keep seeing them, or stick by your spouse. You never really were good with decisions, especially ones that could really impact your future.

Traits: Music Lover, Hot-Headed, Childish. (Additional: Erratic, Dance Machine)

Aspiration: Musical Genius.

Career: Live off tips and fame.

Marry and move out as a YA.

Have a bad relationship with your parents.

Cheat on your spouse with someone who plays an instrument or sings.

Only earn money from tips when you play instruments or sing in public.

Have either a dance battle or karaoke night once a week.

Obtain fame, at least c-lister, from music.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Singing, Dancing and any instrument skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, City Living, Get Together]

Generation Eight: Magenta.

You’ve always used humor and pranks as a way to cope with everything going on in your life. No one but your best friend really gets you. It’s hard for you two to get over being friends when you realize that you have feelings for each other. Except, after having a baby together, you realize you were better off as friends. You still civilly raise the child, just not under the same roof anymore.

Traits: Paranoid, Goofball, Gloomy. (Additional: Clumsy, Cat Lover)

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief.

Career: Social Media.

Have a childhood best friend.

Have a baby with said best friend.

You and your best friend fall out, but you still raise the child civilly.

Have at least 1 cat.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Comedy, Writing and Mischief skills.

[Packs used: Cats and Dogs, Strangerville, City Living]

Generation Nine: Tangerine.

You prefer the finer things in life. You live in the city, but as a young adult working in law, you often take vacations to Mt. Komorebi. Where, when you fall in love with a local and have children, you take your children there often. Not until you retire, do you and your spouse move there. In the meantime, you enjoy the time you spend there; skiing, snowboarding, rock climbing, sightseeing, etc. You dream of your vacations while at work.

Traits: Adventurous, Kleptomaniac, Bro. (Additional: Lactose Intolerant, Materialistic)

Aspiration: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer.

Career: Law.

Take 2 vacation days a week to go to Mt. Komorebi.

Marry and have children with someone who lives in Mt. Komorebi

Continue living in San Myshuno until you retire and move to Mt. Komorebi.

Steal one item a day.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Skiing, Snowboarding and Rock Climbing skills.

[Packs used: Snowy Escape, Cottage Living]

Generation Ten: Aubergine.

Your parents always showed you the luxurious sides of life. Treating you to everything and anything you could ever imagine. It lit the way for your future career as a critic. You enjoyed being able to put your 2 cents into whatever you could get your neatly, well kept fingers on. You also always looked and presented to be your best self. 

Traits: Neat, Foodie, Snob. (Additional: High Maintenance, Perfectionist)

Aspiration: Party Animal.

Career: Critic.

Host 3 parties a week.

Each party has a theme; decorate and cook accordingly.

Get married 3 times (not to the same person).

Have 1 child per marriage.

Don’t get close to your children until they are Young Adults.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Cooking, Writing and Gourmet Cooking skills.

[Packs used: Spa Day, City Living]

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #s4 #thesims4 #sims4 #sims legacy #sims lets play #notanotherlegacy

[prettyshon10]

TOWL EP. 4

SPOILERS

- Poured some wine for this one; let’s go

- Whose house is this? It’s nice (was that a roomba I saw?)

- Yes, thunder! Set the atmosphere!

- I will never skip these opening credits

- The body is giviiiiing! Danaiiii!

- That man is lusting—omg, he see’s the scar!

- It’s literally takes me twice as long as the episodes’ run time ‘cause I keep pausing and rewinding, but can you blame me? I’m trying to take EVERYTHING in; I’m tryna savor

- “You’ve become a bit of a creative writer these days. That note? In the getaway boat? Poetry.”

- She’s MAD mad, y’all!

- “Children”! She said “children”! He caught that!

- Only 7 minutes in and this ep has me in a chokehold; Imma need more wine

- I knew it wasn’t gonna be that easy; sorry to y’all theories

- THEY ARE ACTING!!!! ACTING!!! The mannerisms—the cracked voices raised in anger! The fact that NOBODY on the TWD cast bagged an Emmy is so freakin CRIMINAL!!!

- Yo! Automated Voice! SHUT UP!

- She ain’t giving you that thing, sir.

- “What did they do to you?” The angst is angsting.

- “Do you still love me?” STOOOOOOP! I’m done! 😭Cut the show—

- Now the sun’s coming out from behind the storm clouds…

- Round three of “They won’t come after us if we’re “dead””, huh?

- I’m totally sure Jadis would not believe they’re dead. They’re Rick and Michonne. She knows better.

- Shout out to my subscription plan—I love not sitting through commercials!

- Sis is really whacking him over head with the “what about the kids?!” approach

- The black woman in her is leaping out and I love it; baby said “deuces, then.”

- Don’t tell me she’s waiting for him to follow her…

- And he wants to!!! The tropes are troping!

- My wine is gone and I’m not even halfway into the episode. I’m gonna throw myself out the window, I swear…

- I hear a chopper; no no no no no

- Not her sassing him 😂 I love snarky Michonne

- “The only time I feel safe is when I’m with you.”

- Even at their most divided, they’re a forced to be reckoned with. Look at them fight together!

- Not him getting blood on her face! Rick, she’s pissed enough as it is!

- Automated Voice, I’m not doing this with you, again!

- The way she grounds him back to reality in the midst of his panic. How very “sun’s getting real low” of them. ❤️

- Inject this entire scene into my veins

- Bathed in the golden glow of this light; it’s the little things

- RJ really does look just like Rick. Shout out to the casting director. Man’s genes said “you’re gonna carry a lightly melanated clone, and that’s final!”

- This show is literally fan service done the RIGHT WAY; other shows takes notes

- Not the roomba sneaking a peak! Caught my boy off guard—he was ready to fight

- Finally, he’s asking about the mark

- “Carl. They took Carl.” Excuse me?!

- “I can’t live without you. Without you, I die.”

- Andrew Lincoln wants me deceased: confirmed. This is a personal attack, I’m sure of it

- Oh lord, not the Carl drawing…

- I just…😫😭

- Elevator make out! One thing about my faves, they’re gonna get it in anytime, any place! And walker killing is an aphrodisiac!

- In the car, too! 😂

- Things are totally gonna go left; only question is how

- Wait, it’s over?!

#danai ATE every crumb #she said 💋 no leftovers #twd towl #towl spoilers #the walking dead #the ones who live #richonne #rick grimes #michonne grimes #rick x michonne #amc #1x04

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Criminal

Wednesday x Kitsune!Reader

Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five|Part Six|Part Seven

Eugene waves at you as you slid down the stair railing with your pack. Your smirk was wide as you land on the carpet with a muted thud.

"Eugene! You ready for the hunt?"

The boy nods as you both make your way towards Ophelia Hall. "Yes! I have everything we need. Snacks, extra batteries, some bug jars, just in case." He says with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

You let out a laugh, only to stop right in your tracks as the sight of Wednesday in a beautiful gothic dress steals your breath away. But the confusion set in when you register the fact that Tyler was next to her. In a tuxedo. You were too baffled to say anything, so Eugene piped up.

"Wednesday, what's going on?"

You shake yourself out of your reverie and spoke up as well. "Yeah, what happened to staking out the cave?" You couldn't look Wednesday in the eyes for fear of getting drawn in again. "I broke plans to join you on this."

Wednesday didn't answer. Her eyes just flitted awkwardly from side to side, uncomfortable in the situation. You and Eugene both took that as a sign. The bee boy looks at you dejectedly.

"I guess we'll have to check out the woods on our own."

"Don't! It's dangerous. Stand down."

Your arms cross. "You don't think we can handle it?"

"We'll all go tomorrow night. Understood?"

With that, she turns and walks away with her date. The burning feeling within you builds up as you glare at the duo's backs. Eugene just pats your back, drawing your attention to him.

"Let's go anyway. We'll show her how capable we are."

Your head shakes in reply. "Sorry, Eug. I don't feel like it anymore." Your eyes didn't move, even when Wednesday and Tyler disappeared from eyesight. "I think I'm gonna put my original plans back on the docket."

Finally, you turn to look at your friend.

"Rest for tonight. We'll hit the woods tomorrow, with or without Wednesday."

You walk away, getting ready for the Rave'N.

-----+++++-----

Your eyes burned slightly at the bright whites and blues of your surroundings. Wandering around, you weave through the crowd, greeting friends as you pass them. Soon enough, you're joined by your dancer friends. The group huddles together, debating on when to execute their plan. Before you could make a decision, you see your crush on the dance floor.

The movements caught your attention and suddenly, along with some others, you were staring. She seemed so unbothered by anyone else. The unnatural dance moves seemed to inspire you.

"I know when we should do this. Irina, go talk to the DJ. Everyone have their ribbons?" When everyone nods you give them a smirk. "Just like we practiced, guys."

The dance continues on. Wednesday and Tyler dance close until you suddenly pop up between the two.

"Having fun, lovebirds?" You blurt out with a wicked grin. Wednesday balks at you.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"I told you. I broke plans to hang out with you. My plans are here."

"What plan? Pestering me? You do that regardless."

Your grin goes wider. "That's just a plus."

You whirl around Wednesday to stand behind her. Before she could move, she felt something tightened around her neck. The touch of fabric slide away, revealing a black ribbon in your hands. Backing away, you tie the ends of the ribbon together and wrap the loop around your wrists, binding them together.

With a record scratch, the song playing ends abruptly, only to have another start. Vocalizations begin as you continue your path backwards, eyes never leaving Wednesday. From other points in the crowd, your friends join you, wrists also bound, jerking them around at the last two beats of each measure.

The performance begins.

You and four others drop to your knees as the lyrics begin and you all start to pulse your chests, as if your hearts were trying to burst out. It's clear now that it's a choreographed dance as the crowd circles you to watch. Before long, you're back up on your feet, alternating between jerking moves and smooth transitions. Your eyes land on Wednesday's as you remove the ribbon around your wrists with your teeth and toss it to her before going full out on the dance.

The goth couldn't take her eyes off of you. The way you spun and whipped around with ease as you worked the crowd was fascinating. At the second chorus, the other dancers circled you while you knelt, she could see how heavily you were breathing. But it still wasn't a moment's rest. You were still performing as your eyes pierced through hers. When your solo came, the others dropped to the floor, hidden by the fog. Only their hands and legs were seen as they did their floor choreography.

Then the bridge to the final chorus began. Instrumental with the same vocalizations that happened in the beginning. All the dancers broke from the group, weaving in and out of the members of the crowd. You, on the other hand, inched over towards Wednesday with stuttered steps. Suddenly, you surged towards her and grabbed her wrist. You bring her hand to your neck. Her fingers reflexively curl around your throat as your fox eyes and fangs make their appearance to her for the first time. You stare into her eyes as the bridge ends.

"Deo mangchyeojwo" you say alongside the song before jumping back and finishing the dance at the last chorus.

The room erupts in applause as you hit the final pose, holding it to revel in the cheers. It wasn't until you felt a drop on your face that you dropped your pose. Looking up, more drops fell, leaving red streaks on your face. The sprinkler systems had been triggered, raining red on everyone.

Cheers turn into screams as people begin to scramble away, slipping and sliding as they try to escape the 'Carrie' recreation scene. Only you and Wednesday seem to be unbothered. Your attention turned to Wednesday when you hear her scoff.

"They couldn't even spring for real pigs' blood." She looks over at you. "It's paint."

You let out a soft laugh, your anger and jealousy ebbed for the moment, especially after the dance. "I'll getcha pigs' blood and redo this whole thing."

You and Wednesday ended up in the eye of the storm. Chaos reigned around you while you had just a moment to see the goth's lips quirk up ever so slightly at your words.

The sudden hit of a vision burst that bubble.

Worried that she may fall, you moved closer to Wednesday, but she recovered quickly with wide, worried eyes. She grabs your arms to steady herself before rushing an explanation.

"Eugene is in the woods. He's in danger."

With a nod you bolt out alongside the girl, hoping to the gods that you two will make it in time.

#a dragon tries to write #Wednesday Addams x Reader #Wednesday x Reader #Spotify

[autisticlenaluthor]

Vigilante

thank you thank you to @2-the-moon-and-2-saturnfor betaing <3

“Kara Zor-El, what the fuck were you thinking?” 

The sound of Lena’s roar is quickly followed by heels snapping against the linoleum floor. Alex and Kara both shoot each other looks, like two kids about to get caught screwing around by the principal. 

Within the second, Alex has hopped off of Kara’s bed and is carefully backing away.

The med-bay door slides open and Lena enters, her arms folded across her chest and brow raised. For a moment, she remains quiet as she takes in the scene. Kara’s lying in her suit on a stretcher, surrounded by red sun lamps, and connected to an IV drip. 

Lena nods to herself and draws in a breath, shooting Alex a look before turning back to Kara.

“Two days,” she remarks and holds up two fingers. “You couldn’t wait two days for the kryptonite suit to be finished?” 

Kara goes to respond, getting out a meek ‘I know, I-’ before realizing the question must’ve been rhetorical because Lena’s already cut her off. 

“You promised you were going to lay low until it was done.” 

“I didn’t know he’d have kryptonite!” Kara exclaims. (She regrets it as soon as she does.) 

“Well, I don’t think that’s something criminals like to advertise.”

“Look, she took a calculated risk,” Alex interjects. “Maybe not the smartest one. But this is what she does– there’s always a chance of this happening, it just comes with the territory.” 

Lena raises an eyebrow. “The territory? Kara’s life is not collateral, Director. It’s not worth the risk.” 

“I’m not saying it is.” 

“Then stop treating her like she’s indestructible. You know, I’m getting really tired of this vigilante shit and the DEO acting like–”

“Woah, this is not vigilante shit, Supergirl is a nationally recognized hero. She’s basically a member of law enforcement!” Alex argues. 

“NCPD officers always have back-up. If Supergirl is a cop, then where the hell is her team?” 

“Right here! The entire DEO is behind her, she–”

“Alex–” Kara cuts in. “Both of you, just stop.” 

Lena retracts. She rubs her palms together and looks down at the floor. 

“Could we just have a minute?” Kara asks, looking over at her sister. “Alone?” 

Alex hesitates. She looks from Kara, to Lena, then back at Kara. 

“We’ll be fine,” Kara adds and tilts her head towards Lena. “I’m okay.” 

“Okay.” Alex exhales. “I’ll be in the conference room.” 

Kara nods. She folds her hands together and scrapes the dried blood from beneath her fingernails as she waits for Lena’s rant to pick back up. After all, it isn’t like she doesn’t deserve it. She made a promise and she broke it. Broke Lena’s trust after years of building it up. 

But the spiral never comes. Lena’s silent as her eyes graze the med bay again, watching the monitors on the wall, and the cuts on Kara’s chin. 

“I… I’m sorry,” Kara speaks up eventually. She looks up with round, worried eyes, trying to feel out a response before she continues. “I didn’t want to make you mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” Lena responds. She drops her arms by her side and then picks them back up again so she can tap her thumbs together. She needs something to do with her hands so the pent-energy circling inside won’t start to seep out again. “I know, with the yelling, but…” 

She pauses and approaches the bed, sitting on the edge beside her girlfriend. 

“I’m not mad.” 

“I’d understand if you were,” Kara says. “I told you I’d wait and I didn’t.”

Lena nods. She gestures with her hand, her expression softening. When she goes to speak, all that comes out is a sigh. 

She looks down and folds her hands together. They’re shaking– it’s practically imperceivable but they are. Kara reaches out to gently cover them with her own. 

“You know, for three years I’ve been Supergirl without an anti-Kryptonite suit and I’ve always made it out okay,” she says. “And today was bad, I- I know how bad it was. But I’ll bounce back. I’ll be safer.” 

Again, Lena nods and her eyes gloss over. 

“I know.”

She smiles as she says it, the way she always does when she’s fighting back tears. 

“But you’re…” Sniffing, Lena reaches out to trace the area by Kara’s scrape with her thumb. “You’re all cut up. You’re– you’re bleeding. You never bleed.” 

“I’m okay,” Kara whispers. 

But Lena doesn’t believe her. She shakes her head and sets her hand down, beginning to fidget with her fingers once more. 

“You’re hurt.” 

“I am… a little.”

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” 

“You’ve seen it before.” 

“And I didn’t like it then either.” 

Kara sighs. She reaches out to take Lena’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. 

“I’ll be okay,” she says again. “I promise.” 

“Yeah… you better be,” Lena says, her voice shaky. “Because I’m really fond of my girlfriend and I’d hate to lose her to some anti-Kryptonian creep.” 

“You’re not gonna lose me.” 

“Sure.” 

“You’re not.” 

Lena looks up and meets Kara’s eyes. 

“How am I supposed to believe that?” She asks. “All I asked for was two days to finish your suit… and you went out anyway.” 

Kara averts her gaze, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“And I know you’ll be fine this time. But what if next time is different? I don’t…” 

The words get caught in Lena’s throat. They’re heavy in her mouth, she wishes she could swallow them. 

“I can’t do this without you.” 

She isn’t sure what this is referring to. These relationships, these friendships, this job.

All Lena knows is she’s gotten used to her life and for the first time in as long as she can remember, she really fucking likes it. She likes that she gets to come home from work to her best friend and the penthouse they made a home together. She likes that there are two toothbrushes in the holder on her bathroom sink, and a pair of sneakers next to her heels by the front door. She likes that when Kara showers, she can hear her singing in the other room, and that they have Fast Food Fridays because, at the end of the week, neither of them ever wants to cook. 

So maybe it’s all of it. Lena likes her life– loves it, even. Kara is the one person she can’t imagine doing it without. 

“You won’t have to,” Kara breathes. “I promise.” 

Lena doesn’t say anything. She soaks in the silence until Kara feels ready to continue. 

“Today, when I fell and the wind got knocked out of me… I felt this… this rush. Like… you know how people talk about their life flashing before their eyes?” 

Lena nods. 

“It was like that except it wasn’t my life, it was like, I was seeing what I’d miss if… if something really did happen. It was all of these moments a- and all I could think was, I can’t miss this… I can’t not live it.” 

“What did you see?” Lena asks, her voice hardly above a whisper. 

“So much.” Kara smiles and sits up, leaning her weight on her hands. “It was me and you in this big house. And we had pets– a dog and a cat. And we were so happy.” 

Lena draws her bottom lip between her teeth, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t had similar fantasies. 

“That sounds nice.” 

“Yeah,” Kara agrees. “And then I… I hit the ground and I knew I’d messed up. And I- I regretted it so much– I still do.”

Lena looks over at her. She wants to ask what that means, what all of it means. The flash forward and the regret, what it really is to mess up. But again, she’s quiet. 

“I want that life with you,” Kara continues. “And I was so stupid to risk it today when all you’d needed was two more days.”

“You’re not stupid.” 

“I know. But the choice I made was.” 

Lena nods. 

“I want the big house and the dogs and all of those moments with you. Supergirl is… I love Supergirl but you are my family. She’s just a job.” 

“Kara… what are you saying?” 

Kara smiles. Her heart’s beating so fast it could burst right out of her chest, but this feels right. It feels good.

And before she knows it, two more words have slipped out. “Marry me?” 

#supercorptober2023 #supercorp fanfiction #kara danvers #lena luthor

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Akai is a study in severed connections.

He probably got off to a better start than Rei, by being born into a loving family. But it then hits all the harder that Tsutomu takes that case and disappears. Their mother hardens in an effort to protect what remains of their family, and Akai leaves his family behind to chase a ghost. I wonder which is worse; never having known kindness, or knowing it and having it ripped away from you?

We know barely anything about these next couple of years, aside from the fact that he was alone in the US. Who knows how far back the lone wolf monicker reaches? It’s not like we know anyone he’s been particularly close to until Jodie, and that’s what, several years down the line? I wonder what was up with that, how that relationship came about. It can’t have been that deep, considering how easily he broke up with her for Akemi. Did he ever even love her, or was he seeking physical comfort? Was it the adrenaline in a high-stakes job that brought them together? Who knows.

By contrast, Akemi’s kindness is certainly a draw for Akai. She is vulnerable herself, but keeps acting tough (and isn't that familiar). Kind and soft despite the world she lives in that she gets to him, against his better judgement. She cares for him, and allows him to care for her in return. And then Scotch dies, another potential connection severed, and his cover is blown. He leaves his love behind, returns to the US, and is alone. Again.

By the time canon rolls around, he and Akemi have been separated for what, three years? Akai is supposed to be dependable all the time, and he is, but at the cost of running himself ragged. He’s subsisting on caffeine and nicotine, shit at taking care of himself. He still loves Akemi, and is probably faithful to her. How long has it been since somebody has touched him? Held him? Cared for him? Years, at this point. She asks him to date her for real, and is ripped away from him immediately after. He’s on the other side of the globe, and she’s dead. Another connection, severed.

Things go from bad to worse, and Akai Shuichi dies. Now cut off in all but the slightest thread, he’s officially separated from the people he cares about. They mourn his death, and he can do nothing but watch and stay away to keep them safe.

Even if he wasn’t a special agent in the process of taking down a criminal syndicate, he’s now living a lie as Okiya Subaru, one he can’t involve anyone else in. Okiya is sociable, but the relationships can’t be genuine, and I think that’s worse. Seeing how happy people are with their connections, Masumi trying to reach out to him too, and he can’t. It’s too dangerous. He’s too dangerous. By this point, he’s probably resigned himself to mourning and loneliness.

And then there is Rei. Who is holding onto their bond in desperation, like a lifeline. It should be severed, but Rei keeps it alive through force of will. He has faith that Akai can’t have died that easily. Their connection a thread of guilt that strangles them both. But it also keeps them together. Neither can escape it.

And Akai starts to thrive under Rei’s attention. Because he’s seen, and Rei keeps seeking him out, despite everything. Whatever he gives, Akai gladly takes – whether it be violence or love. His touch burns, either way. Fistfights turn into sparring turn into wound care.

Once they’ve started, they can’t seem to stop touching, finding excuses despite their better judgement. He’s bad at communicating, and Rei is a habitual liar, but their actions speak louder. When everything threatens to fall apart, they’re bound, holding onto each other, holding each other.

Has Akai ever had anyone he could rely on, before? An equal he didn’t need to protect (who in fact objects to it)? Who can take care of themselves? Who won’t die so easily, leaving him alone yet again? In between all this loss and misery, Rei’s unshakable faith and competence provide solace. His care is wild and sometimes violent, but unmistakably there. Akai gives back what he can.

And maybe, just maybe, that connection is strong enough to support the tension. It persists despite all the troubles they’ve gone through. And with time, and a gentle touch, maybe they can remove the thread from each other’s necks. Maybe they can breathe freely, in the end.

#akam #iris writes things #long post #akai shuichi #character study #dcmk #in conclusion: they're touch-starved your honour

[tartsinarat]

Ngl was thinking about this whilst drawing some toh au stuff while watching doctor who in the background but I really feel like Pip would really be into the toh version of doctor who.

no idea what it would be called tho in the owl house but Pip’s into it for obvious reasons of sci-fi but also occasionally randomly fantasy?? show, which has chaotic mess of lore that makes no sense whatsoever (I say this with extreme love tho) and has a main character who’s a mad genius and criminal who stole a time machine and ran away to explore the universe and time which I feel meshes very well into what Pip would enjoy

Like I don’t see him enjoying space frontier as it’s pretty much Star Trek and that show has an really optimistic grand view of the future, it focus mostly on the good of people as a whole and that anything can be achieved if people work together and put their minds to it, I can see why Hunter and Gus would enjoy it which I find really sweet and adorable

On the other hand Doctor who has a very complex but pessimistic view on people/the universe, it mainly focuses on the crazy situations that a lonely alien on who’s constantly running away but desperately trying their best at all times to either atone for what they did in the past or to help people across time and space which I think Pip would find more interesting and relatable.

He’d also probably think that all the historical stuff in doctor who is real and that Britain is just constantly getting invaded by aliens.

Funniest thing though about him discovering Doctor who is Pip finally learning what a British person is, and that he’s got a British accent himself as I’m pretty sure there’s literally no one on the boiling isles other than Belos and Pip have that accent so he wondered where it’s from.

Pip also enjoys this show even more because time travel is a concept in toh, soooooooo the guy is just itching to figure out how to make a real Tardis, the only thing stoping him is that he’s in the human realm and in the demon realm the titan themselves was like “nope not even risking it” and decided to never allow him to be able to find a time pool again (he was apart of the events of elsewhere and elsewhen along side Luz and Lilith… it was awkward between him and Philip to say the least but it was more on Pips part because he was like” holy shit is he an older me?? Or my great great- something?? grandad what is going on???” So he didn’t know how to react to that and neither did Luz who was like yep they’re related, and Philip was like “what a strange hooded kid, I didn’t know that demons could mimic accents and appearances so well, I should be stay wary of that abomination and slay it when I have the time”. Oh yeah Pip does almost get killed but Lilith springs into action and does the badass punch to stop Philip. Ngl I’ll have to draw this as a comic at some point because it’s interesting to imagine/draw)

As well I had some ideas of him in thanks to them dressed up in a nerdy doctor cosplay which I found fun but idk if that’ll end up being what I draw him as for his Halloween costume, all three were picked because they all had similar Pip personality wise and I feel like he would relate most to these three in particular;

Like Pip, 10 is pretty much a wild card personality wise depending on the situation he can either be a sad destructive arrogant bastard with a slight god complex who takes matters into his own hands because he believes that he’ll make the right decision without thinking about the consequences or be a lonely silly guy who rambles a lot and is always running around and just wants to have fun.

1 is a grumpy trickster that has strong opinions about right and wrong, he also appears rude or uncaring but actually cares a lot and is the guy who ran away and stole a fucking time machine. He and 14 (14 is basically a mature 10 but I was tempted to go with him instead of 10 but he doesn’t have the ego problem so 10 it was lmao) fought a god like being that’s from another dimension thats obsessed with playing games.

4 is a bit of an odd ball though, he’s the weirdest doctor out of the bunch. He’s pretty silly, but at times he’s shifts into being quite callous and broody but still has a heart of gold. As well as 4 seems to struggle a lot in acting human as he’s pretty distant, aloof and alien at points, he even emphasises a lot throughout his run how he’s not human. Which I feel Pip would find extremely relatable as well as enjoying 4’s adventurist spirit and his extreme hatred of authority.

I think 4 is Pips favourite so he’d most likely cosplay as him during thanks to them.

Omg almost completely forgot to mention but I didn’t add his scar on purpose, he’s used illusion magic to remove it to make the cosplay more accurate and because his curse at that point is showing more physically on his body at this point in season 3 (he goopy 😔) and I can imagine it’s hard to explain to people in public why you a rotting infected looking green scar across your face and an even worse looking arm that’s weirdly proportioned to your body.

#the owl house #toh #original character #toh au #art #golden heir au #the owl house au #oc #owl house au #oc stuff #i got too silly #no idea if I should tag this as being doctor who related #it’s kinda embarrassing but ig cringe is dead #sorry to my followers who aren’t into doctor who #and also aren’t insane about dw #philip wittebane

[labarch]

Threshold of Humanity: so about those demons huh?

Today, I conclude that the way Qifrey stands in doorways is the strongest proof we’ve had so far that Qifrey is, in fact, not human, but an artificial being born of forbidden magic. Or, as the witch society seems to name them, a “demon”.

Lots of images and spoilers up to chapter 69 under the cut!

On the outside looking in

Let’s start by saying that in this chapter, Qifrey is back to his old habit of looking as suspicious as humanely possible. The first page is the only one where we briefly see his eye, with a look I want to describe as sorrowful, bitter and knowing. For the rest of the scene his face will stay partially hidden, and he never looks full on at the castle guard he is speaking to. His demeanor is distant, in contrast to the guard’s confusion and panic. In fact, it is a little funny how dodgy he is acting, given that he does nothing but noble deeds this entire chapter – bringing an escaped criminal back into custody, taking his apprentice to safety, safeguarding the medical tower against further attacks with a layer of salt.

So far, this looks like Qifrey’s classic brand of guilt-ridden self-sabotage, but the framing of the scene provides extra context. The threshold to Ezrest’s castle acts as a physical barrier separating Qifrey from the other man. During those three pages, they are both often shown framed by that doorway: the guard safe within the walls, contrasting Qifrey the outsider. The first page has a gust of wind pushing his robes around him, like an invisible force keeping him back. And we do know, because Qifrey emphasises this again for us, that this castle does indeed possess a natural repulsive force that keeps out monsters.

We are told in chapter 47 that, not only drawing magic within Ezrest castle won’t function, but that the castle’s walls repels all magical artefacts. It is because of that property that, when Coco notices that the leeches have not approached the castles’ walls, Qifrey immediately concludes that their current monstrous form is the result of a magical experiment.

Of course, “demons” are not the only beings who would be unable to enter the castle: any active spell should be repelled, meaning that Olruggio, for instance, can’t enter with his beautifying mask. Coco, with the bracelet stuck around her wrist, technically shouldn’t be able to enter at all, and the same goes for the characters with active magic drawn directy on their skin, like Coustas, Dagda and Eunie. In fact, even if he were perfectly human, it would be only natural for Qifrey to not step inside, since he couldn’t go in without taking off his glasses, which contain spells both to hide his scar and to protect him from harsh light.

And yet. I can’t help but see a very pointed parallel between Qifrey’s confidence that the castle will repel monsters, and the way the castle’s entrance seems to subtly repel him. In particular because it adds on to a long series of scenes featuring Qifrey’s anxieties around unnatural, magically created beings. This is at least the third time Qifrey brings up the creation of monsters in the days before the pact, which he calls “terrifying” and “a disgusting form of magic”. If the illustrations for those scenes are a glimpse into his mind, then it’s a mind full of nightmares. During their fight, the rogue Sage Engendil also lampshades how curiously familiar Qifrey seems to be with demons. Qifrey furthermore muses that he knows demons haven’t gone extinct, and in fact are still being created by witches to this day.

The demon in human skin

In short, my opinion is that chapters 68 and 69 together strongly hint at us that Qifrey is, or perceives himself as a demon. Now the question is: what new information would this reveal give us about him, his quest, and the way he has behaved so far?

First, we need to try and actually define what does and doesn’t count as a demon in that universe. Qifrey’s first halting description is “a monster, created with magic and by the hands of a witch”. A distinction is also made between magically altered animals that have adapted to their ecosystems and are useful or at least harmless to humans, and ferocious, uncontrollable beasts. So a demon is a new lifeform, artificially created through magic, that is inherently dangerous. The petty criminal from chapter 49 that got turned into a mindless and violent mass of giant leeches ticks all those boxes. Going by that logic, Coustas and Eunie wouldn’t fall into that category despite not being able to enter the Ezrest castle: modifying some of your body parts, or being turned into an existing animal wouldn’t count. Even Sasaran from the second test doesn’t seem to count as a demon: despite being hybridized with an animal, his consciousness hasn’t been affected and so he can’t be described as an “uncontrollable beast”, just a very heavily modified human.

One other interesting tidbit: “demon” is actually name dropped in chapter 59, a while before Qifrey’s fight with Engendil, when Beldaruit muses that a king who could use magic to gain power over life and death would become a “demon king”, someone capable of creating new lifeforms at will. This ties in the concept of demons to the other themes of the recent volumes, the dilemna of healing magic and resurection magic. What this could imply is that bringing someone back from certain death through magic carries the risk of altering them to the point where they would basically become a new lifeform, which has worrying implications for Dagda.  

Going back to Qifrey though, there are three things we know for sure about him: 1) he has been experimented on with a type of magic never attempted before; 2) he looks and acts perfectly human, and 3) despite this, he is convinced that this new magic is dangerous, and must not only be destroyed but also kept secret at all costs. Finally, we know that those experiments left no visible trace on his body, because the Knights Moralis would have inspected him when they rescued him from the Brimhats (and would have soundly kicked him out of the Great Hall had they found anything). Barring other special characteristics we might not know about, what makes him unique as a demon is that he is undistinguishable from a normal human.

And that’s already more than enough to explain why he is freaking out so much.

What I like about this demon framework is that it can apply to several of the existing theories around Qifrey’s origin: whether he is a rescucitated corpse from Slistas, a silvertree turned human (I am still firmly standing behind that one), or a homonculus created from nothing by the Brimhats. In all three cases, whatever weird symptoms or powers he might have as a result of his creation, the very fact that he cannot be told apart from a human is what makes him truly dangerous. Because it shakes the very foundation of magical society.

We remember the central law of the Pointed Hats: the integrity of the human body is sacred, and therefore magic cast on the human body is taboo. A demon with a human appearance is a mockery of that principle, and a walking dilemna for the Pointed Hats. Demons used to be killed by heroes, and forbidden magical artefacts must be destroyed, but what do you do when that magical artefact is a living, breathing person?

(Speaking of, I have been wondering for a while what the Knights Moralis even do with people who have had spells tattooed on them, and especially those whose bodies have been altered. They can’t let them wander around, even with their memories gone, their very appearance would give the secret away. Do they keep them hidden in some prison or on an island, like the brainwashed witches? Asking for Eunie and Coustas, I’m worried about these kids)

From that perspective, Qifrey’s secrecy makes complete sense. The existence of demons with human faces not only raises all kinds of existential questions, but in the short term it risks making witch society even more repressive than it currently is. The Knights Moralis are already merciless to anyone seen with a tattooed spell or other evidence of having been involved with forbidden magic. Can you imagine how paranoid they would become if they literally couldn’t tell apart a demon from a human? Anyone could be a demon, pretty much.

In particular, this scenario explains why Qifrey is keeping the truth from those who might be tempted to help or protect him. After all, where would it leave Olruggio if he sided with a demon against his own society? Where would it leave Qifrey, if the only solution to erase that dangerous new magic were to destroy himself, but Olruggio wouldn’t let him? It also gives context to his line in chapter 40 “You want me to stay as Professor Qifrey? I would also like that, if it were possible”, and his description of his life at the atelier as something almost like a dream. Professor Qifrey doesn’t exist, and he has no right to live that peaceful life.

Anger and hope

A final bit of character musing I want to add to this: this theory of Qifrey as a demon, and the way he wrestles with that knowledge, also sheds some light on his more erratic actions and mood swings so far. What makes his motivations difficult to follow is that he always seems tugged between two extremes: destructive anger and fervent hope. Both are actually coping strategies that he tries to use to protect himself against paralysing guilt.  

His anger at the Brimhats allows him to redirect his self-disgust towards those who made him. The true demons are those who willingly create monsters, he tells Engendil during their fight. These moments where he faces the Brimhats bring out a very different side of him, one that is confident, indignant and spiteful. Then, rather than being blinded by anger into chasing senseless revenge, he is calling on that anger to steel his resolve. He is using that indignation as a motivator to right a wrong done against both himself and witch society as a whole, even if he has to destroy himself in order to do so.

On the other hand, he seems to hold onto some hope that he might, somehow, erase the magic that created him but still miraculously keep himself alive. That is the side of him that fervently believes in the miracles of magic and in the power of creativity, inspired in him by Beldaruit, and passed along to Coco. His stance seems to be that he needs to dive into the ugly core of those experiments, and that maybe, just maybe, a way to save himself will occur to him just in the nick of time. It’s an interesting coincidence, by the way, that he is staring down the maws of water-dwelling demons while having those thoughts.

And on that note, hold on to indignation and hope when the going gets tough (but don’t brainwash your friends), and thank you for reading!

#witch hat atelier #witch hat meta #witch hat spoilers #qifrey #treefrey #sort of: this is a more general theory #I do apologise about the quality of those images #might try to fix that later #go go little demon tree go

[stealingyourbones]

GL Jazz Anger Management

Ok this shit is like half made but I know that I Will Not finish this so fuck it we ball.

Heavily influenced (and encouraged) by @gilbirda

Jazz is an Arkham Asylum Psychologist who’s been on staff for roughly three years at this point. Jason has been assigned to work undercover as a Arkham Security Guard to try to scope out and stop the next breakout that Batman has heard whispers about. 

Jazz and Jason have very similar shifts. Jason is instantly pinned as someone who could handle their stronger patients. This makes him almost always automatically assigned with helping transport the more physically menacing asylum patients to their therapy sessions. Jason and Jazz had similar shifts so Jazz frequently saw Jason in the staff break room or assigned to follow her patient into her office to make sure they didn’t try to attack any other patients or staff. (Jazz could handle herself no problem, but protocol is protocol.)

Sure enough, the rumors for the breakout were true. Jason overheard their plans but just a tad too late. The breakout was happening tonight and he was severely underprepared for handling something this big with this short of a deadline. Damn it. Jason was just getting to know Jazz really well. He asked her on a date set for next week but he might be too preoccupied trying to wrangle these villains to show up. 

Low and behold: There is a breakout. Head of the breakout being Scarface (The Ventriloquist) and Two-Face. (Jason doesn’t know which shift fucked up and managed to let an entire ass veltriloquist doll get a green light past security but he damn well knew it wasn’t his.) Dozens upon dozens of patients were out of their cells and stormed the building as alarms and lights blared at nearly deafening levels. 

Suddenly, a deafening crash shakes the building. Chunks of the ceiling rain down onto the angry mob of Arkham patients as something small and green flies through the wall of the building and finally rests on Jazz’s hand. Jason is far too far away to do anything to help. In his Red Hood uniform, he’s busy subduing the angry mob one criminally insane patient at a time. The design was reminiscent of the Green Lantern rings but a strange skull shaped emblem on the top of the skull made him think otherwise. 

Jazz knew that this was the ring of rage. It was calling to her. She somehow just knew that Danny had rejected the ring and that she was the nearest liminal on earth with the strongest will to be an acceptable wielder of the ring. Jazz looks at the angry mob and back at the ring. Sure, she could take on a few dozen goons and patients before getting overwhelmed, but with the ring she could do something about this. Protect the people she cared for, fight for what’s right. 

Jazz puts on the ring. 

-Draw Jazz GL outfit but inspired by the Ring of Rage. 

-Jazz closes her eyes as she can feel knowledge of how to control the ring suddenly flood her brain. A strange suit of green light envelops her body that glows a bright toxic green. Bright green fenton blasters, hammers, force field barriers, and mixed martial arts to subdue the rowdy patients. Balls of green light encase the unconscious patients and float them back into their rooms, keeping them out of the fight. Jazz is a force of nature, plowing a clean line of goons and criminally insane individuals down to get to Two Face and The Ventriloquist. 

Jason blinks heavily because Jazz is now holding a strange bazooka that seems to be cobbled together out of household items, duct tape, and pure willpower because there is no way that thing should be functional. 

The mortar doesn’t shoot Two-Face but instead turns instantly into a net the second it makes contact with his body. 

-Jazz then gets to work fixing up her workplace. Using her constructs to repair and fix the broken bits of ceiling and hallway until they looked like they were never broken in the first place. 

-Jason, staring at the now fully fixed Asylum with every patient locked in their appropriate room, is still reeling from what just happened. He no longer has to worry about the threat of his date being put off, but now he has another issue. 

-Jason tells Jazz that he’s gonna need to bring her to the watchtower for questioning and to meet the other GL’s. 

-They go to the watchtower and The GL’s that Jason tells to meet them there instantly clock that Jazz isn’t a normal Green Lantern. 

-the GL’s are kinda shocked because they haven’t seen a Ghost Sector GL before. They thought they were just a rumor. Jokes on them, they’re real. It’s a subset of Green Lanterns that patrol various sectors of the Ghost Zone like the regular Green Lanterns patrol sectors of the universe. 

- Their chest emblem is more like that ghost skull on the ring of rage. Her hair is more flamelike and etherial and she looks physically more unreal. Jason is shocked that the one girl he thought he might have something going for him got superpowers. Just his luck. He’s not complaining tho, he’s happy that Jazz can fully protect and defend herself and doesn’t have to worry about her. (He still very much so worries but not as much)

- Jazz and Jason have a sorta long distance/short distance relationship. Jazz spends her time patrolling the GZ but whenever she’s needed on earth, she always takes time to visit Jason. They are very very sweet with each other and are a fuckin literal power duo. You mess with their S.O.? Next second be prepared to be staring down the barrel of either a corporeal or incorporeal looking gun. Either one will hurt like hell. 

-fin-

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #anger management ship #bones writes #GL!Jazz

[renx01]

Betrayed

Prompt: Your father is the head of a criminal enterprise, one which has come onto the kingsman’s radar. Galahad has the task to get closer to said head, so he starts dating you. After a lot of apprehension on your side, you finally let your walls be broken down by him. That is until you find out that he’s been using you all along.  Pairing: Harry Hart x (GN!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: angst, manipulation, established relationship Word count: 2569

A soft knock on the front-door of your apartment draws you from the book you were reading, pride and prejudice. You had started reading it after your boyfriend, Harry, had recommended it to you. Standing up, you quietly walk to the door and look through the peep-hole. It was him, which was unexpected and unusual, but it excited you nonetheless, as it had been quite a while since you last saw him. He had been away on a business trip to Canada for two weeks and the time difference made calling a challenge, especially with his job requiring to stay up late often. Opening the door, you notice that he’s wearing a new suit. While it still fits his usual colour-scheme with it being a darker grey with a white pinstripe, it has some red detailing around the buttons. The fit of the three-piece-suit was impeccable as always, accentuating him in all the right places. ‘Evening Harry.’ Your voice is cheerful as you greet him, ‘ I wasn’t expecting you to be back yet.’ He smiles softly at you, ‘I was hoping to surprise you.’ Leaning down, he kisses you, after which he pulls you into a hug. 

‘I missed you, love.’ You tighten your grip around him. ‘I missed you too.’

Ever since the two of you had started dating three years ago, the two of you saw each-other at least twice a week when he wasn’t on a business-trip. He kisses the top of your head before slowly letting go of the hug. ‘Tea?’ You ask him as you walk towards the kitchen, ‘or would you prefer something stronger?’ It was half past eight  on a Friday evening, so having a glass of wine or bourbon together wasn’t out of the ordinary. ‘How about some whiskey?’ He replies following you, his hand on the small of your back. ‘Sounds lovely’ you smile, ‘I should have some in my liquor cabinet.’ While you grab two glasses, he looks at your collection. Since you started seeing him it has grown significantly. He enjoyed teaching you about all the different types of liquor and what effects certain techniques may have if applied to the distilling process. ‘This one?’ He holds up a bottle of Scotch after kneeling down to grab it. It was one of your favourites and he had recently bought you a new one while in Scotland. Nodding, ‘You know me too well dear.’

The two of you sit down in your home library, where you had also been sitting previously. It was your favourite place to be in, as it reminded you of your grandparent’s mansion in Italy, which you had often visited while growing up. You have always been quite the reader, so their library provided many of the books you read as a child. ‘Excuse the mess, I’ve been reading and writing all day.’ You apologise for the clutter in your desk and the many books which lay folded open next to your reading chair, annotations sprawling across their pages. ‘Don’t worry my dear,’ he smiles as he sits down across from you, ‘we both know that this is a normal part of your creative process.’ Once you’ve set down your glasses onto the table that’s standing between the two of you, he fills them with the liquor of his choice. ‘So please, don’t apologise.’ After all this time, you still felt flustered at times. He was always so well-put-together, with his exterior almost always being perfect. It was the exact opposite of how you felt at times, yet he encouraged and supported you, telling you many times that one can never be perfect and that you should be comfortable in whatever clothes you decide to wear. ‘To us.’ He states, clinking his glass to yours. ‘To us.’ You reply before tasting the brown liquid. It was as delicious as you’d remembered it to be.

‘I see you’ve picked up Austen? Is it to your liking?’ After thinking for a moment you reply, ‘I’m enjoying it quite a bit, though I am still uncertain what to think of Darcy.’ ‘Ah yes, Mr. Darcy is quite a complicated man. I suppose depending on the type of relationship one holds with him the experience can be quite different.’ He muses. The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, reading, and drinking scotch. Only at three in the morning did you realise how much time had passed. Because of this, Harry decided to stay the night at your place. Luckily he always had some spare clothes and his own toiletries at your place. Once he’s gotten changed into his pyjamas, he joins you in the bathroom as you are brushing your teeth. Reaching over your shoulder, he grabs his own toothbrush and starts doing the same. His hair is slightly messy, with some of its waves cascading down his forehead rather than them being pushed back. He had also taken off his glasses, which made him appear slightly younger and less serious, at least to an extent. 

‘Enjoying the view?’ Harry jokes as he catches you staring at him through the mirror. ‘Why yes of course,’ you turn to face him, ‘mister Hart.’ He smiles down at you. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself my love.’ Leaning in, he tenderly kisses you, slowly becoming more passionate when you put your hands into his hair, pulling him closer. Pulling away, he puts his forehead to yours. ‘We should take this to the bedroom.’

The next morning you wake up relatively late, around eleven o’clock. Harry lay there with his arm around you, his pyjama shirt still open. Soft snores fill your ear, it was quite cute to see him sleeping so peacefully. He isn’t like this often, and it is quite the exception that you are awake before him, so you decide to enjoy the moment.  After a few minutes, you supposed that it’d be best to brew some tea before Harry woke up. So very carefully, you climbed out of his grip and silently walked into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on the stove, you start looking at the different teas you have. ‘English breakfast… Chamomile… Mint…’ Pondering and mumbling, you eventually choose a black tea and put in some fresh lemon slices. As the kettle boils, you are putting some yoghurt, granola, and fresh berries into two bowls. Two arms suddenly wrap themselves around your waist. ‘Morning love.’ Harry’s deep voice greets you before he leans down to kiss you on your cheek. ‘Morning dear.’ You turn and meet his lips.  ‘Want to go for a run later?’ You suggest as you put your breakfast and cups of tea onto the dinner table. He shakes his head before taking a sip of his tea. ‘I was rather hoping we could go to a museum, I was thinking of Tate Britain?’ You smile, ‘That sounds lovely.’ ‘We can go out for dinner after,’ a familiar smirk creeps onto his face, ‘I may or may not have pulled some strings and gotten a table at Nobu.’ He was definitely planning something, so you decide to agree without prying much more.  It became much more apparent that he was planning something after he had picked out an outfit for you, which very much complimented what he would be wearing. While it was somewhat casual for Harry’s standards, many would believe it to still be quite formal. Black slacks, a perfectly ironed white shirt, a light-grey knitted jumper, and of course, oxfords, not brogues. As it was still somewhat frigid, especially in the evening, he decided to wear a black overcoat.

After a short walk to Tate Britain, the two of you strolled around the museum for hours, admiring the many pieces of art which were being displayed. He would make comments on the techniques which were used to paint certain well-known pieces, his knowledge ranging from historic to modern art. Offering his arm, he eventually leads you to John Everett Millais’ painting Ophelia. It is a beautifully detailed painting, displaying the character as it is described in Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet. The two of you had originally found a connection through your love of literature, Shakespeare being one of the first authors which came up in your initial conversations. ‘It is quite beautiful, is it not?’ He whispers in your ear. ‘It is,’ you slowly nod, ‘must’ve been quite the undertaking to add all the details which were mentioned in the Scottish play.’ ‘That, I agree with dearest.’ He chuckles. After walking through the remaining parts of the museum, it is already quite late, so you decide to take a cab to the restaurant Harry had reserved a table at. After ordering a bottle of wine and your food, the two of you enjoy quite a relaxed conversation about his business trip and what you had been up to. The dinner itself was phenomenal, the wine complimenting it, bringing out its flavours and umami. You decided to share dessert before walking back to his place, as it was closer. As you pass through Hyde park, he suddenly halts and points at the stars, which are remarkably visible. Quietly, he describes to you which stars form the different star signs, Orion, Sirius, and more.  A couple of minutes pass in silence before you feel him shift next to you. When you turn to face him, he is kneeling. ‘My love,’ he starts, ‘these past three years have been the happiest of my life.’ Pulling out a small box and opening it, he reveals a beautiful ring. ‘Will you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?’ Words escape you. While you had expected him to surprise you in some way, this was outside of the scope you’d expected. Slowly, you nod, some tears escaping your eyes. ‘Yes, Harry. I do.’ ‘My love,’ He stands up, cups your face in both your hands and kisses you passionately, before putting the ring on your finger, ‘please don’t cry.’ As you look in his eyes, he himself seems moved, but something else in his eyes is unreadable to you. The rest of that night was a bit of a blur. Harry told you that he’d gone to your father and asked for your hand in marriage not too long before his latest business trip, who in turn, had agreed. He admitted that he’d been looking at rings for quite a while before that, however, because he is the gentleman he is, he thought it necessary for him to follow tradition. After a couple of weeks, the two of you decide to start living together full-time at Harry’s place, as it’d be easier to see one another on an almost daily basis that way. 

Two months after your engagement to Harry, your parents come over for dinner, as it had been a while since you had last seen them. Your mother is over the moon about the engagement and has insisted that you and Harry should marry in Italy, where you had spent most of your summers as a child. If it were up to her, the wedding would already be taking place this very summer, but because of the perfectionist your fiance is, you have decided to plan for spring of the following year. ‘So Harry, how has your work been lately?’ Your father enquires before taking a sip of his red wine. ‘It’s been busy, but I’m happy to have my lovely fiance to support me.’ Harry says as he squeezes your thigh and smiles at you. Your father doesn’t seem too convinced, however, and lets out a snort. ‘I’m sure you have been busy,’ he slowly leans forward and whispers, ‘busy blowing up my men and warehouses, perhaps?’ After sliding  a few pictures across the table, he leans back again. It was quite clear that it was Harry, the security cameras your father had installed recently in his warehouses after finding multiple men dead and the building in shambles, had captured a video of him. The second picture was Harry holding a gun and clearly shooting one of your father’s men, Antinio. You had rather liked Antonio growing up and had felt awful after his death. You turn to him after staring at the picture for what felt like an eternity.

‘What’s the meaning of this Harry?’

He swallows. ‘It is none of your concern, love.’ You stand up. ‘Yes it is,’ your voice wavering slightly, ‘Harry Hart, you are going to explain to me what you were doing shooting up my father’s people and business.’ ‘Please sit back down, dear.’ He doesn’t dare look at you. ‘Harry.’ You say sternly and he finally looks at you, the guilt in his eyes quite clear. ‘Please, I can’t, you kno-.’ He almost begs you, but it’s interrupted by the sound of a gun being loaded. You turn and look at your father pointing it at your fiance. ‘I expect you to be honest now Harry, or should I say agent Galahad?’ Harry sits deadly still, all the emotion he had shown you completely wiped off his face. Slowly, he stands up, his hands slightly up and clearly visible for your father to see. ‘You have flown too close to the sun agent; and you’re going to pay for deceiving my child.’ Your father’s voice rising to an almost screaming level. ‘Father please! Don’t hurt him!’ You scream back. ‘Can’t you see that he has used you?! The only reason he ever got together with you is to get to me! Isn’t that right?!’ You turn to Harry. ‘Tell me it isn’t true Harry.’ He doesn’t answer. ‘TELL ME!’ Tears stream down your face as he looks at you without a hit of emotion. ‘We can discuss this later, dear.’ He states before turning back to your father, whose gun was clearly shaking as a result of his anger. ‘No, you’re going to be honest, Hart, if that’s even your name.’ He motions Harry to walk around the table and stand in opposite of him, your mother shifting to stand next to your father.  Your fiance didn’t seem to be phased by the situation in the slightest while your father looks like he is about to pull the trigger. Before he can, though, Harry suddenly and swiftly kicks the gun out of his hands, with it flying across the room. Pulling out his own gun, he doesn’t hesitate to shoot your father through the head. ‘DAD! NO!!’ Before you are able to move, he does the same to your mother, who had been relatively quiet throughout the argument. ‘Mo-mo-MOM?!’ You run and fall to the ground, trying to do anything to help them. Blood covers your hands and feet as tears continue to stream down your face. ‘Ha-.’ Swallowing, you try again. ‘Ha-Harry, wh-why…’ Your hands are shaking violently as you search for anything to grab onto. ‘Wa-was it- was it all fake?’ Grabbing your father’s gun you point it at him. He doesn’t look at you. ‘HARRY, LOOK AT ME!’ He turns, taking off his glasses and putting them onto the dinner table, the once white tablecloth now splattered with blood; tainted. Crouching down, he grabs your face and kisses you before pulling you into a hug, the gun you’re holding hitting his chest. ‘You may shoot now, my love.’ Is all he whispers into your ear.

~~~~~~

Part 2

#harry hart x reader #kingsman x reader #kingsman reader insert #harry hart imagine #harry hart reader insert #harry hart #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #angst #like a lot of it #established relationship #manipulation #open ending #ao3 writer #kingsman imagine #kingsman #small blog

[suddenly-stickmin]

do you have any headcanons about the characters?

I have a very small handful at the moment! A lot of my headcanons sort of spawn into my head over time the more I draw/write/think about these characters!

I do like to think that Johnny doesn't speak. Since he never says a line in the games, I just like to think he's chill being on quiet mode. Prefers to give a thumbs up, or nod/shake his head, or raise his brows in concern, etc.

Johnny's real great at his job, he's great at stopping criminals and putting his life on the line to help citizens, HOWEVER........ He's not too good with personal conflict between his friends. Like at all. He'll try to break it up if it's possible, but if it gets too intense, he has a bad habit of trying to seem busy or just waiting for the conflict to die down so things can go back to normal again. He'll only really act out if the situation suddenly gets dangerous.

[Usually Rupert is the cause of these fights, and if Johnny's unable to break it up, he'll wait till Rupert storms off to check on Dave. Sometimes Dave will accept his comfort, other times he just wants to be alone]

Rupert HAAAATTTEESSSS DAVE HE HAAAATTTEEESSS HIM

I like to think that after Escaping the Prison, when Henry Stickmin escaped, everyone found out that Dave--and his partner Rupert--basically helped Henry get out by failing to check the box. It was a major sign of incompetence, and an embarrassing situation for the prison, so they fired them.

Rupert struggled to find another job for a good while after he got fired. A lot of hardships he went through he often blamed on Dave. Even now, when his job in the military gets a little too rough, or things don't go the way he expects them to, he finds a way to pin it on that horrible day when Dave failed to do his one job.

Dave's probably tried to apologize a million times, but I don't think Rupert plans on forgiving him anytime soon. And now all three of these guys are stuck living in an apartment together LOL

#thsc #thsc dave panpa #thsc johnny panzer #thsc rupert price #art #ask #thank you for the question! #these guys have like 1 good day together #and then the universe balances it out by giving them 40000 bad ones

[ace-of-zaun]

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 8

Silco x f!reader - 7.6k words - SFW

cw:  fluff, angst, anxiety/dread, injury, medical anxiety, health and illness, taking care of people, talk about self-defence and physical assault, get your seatbelts on lads we’ve got another emotional rollercoaster chapter, but with a fluffy ending bc it’s me

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

If someone had told kitchen-utensil-salesperson you that one day you’d be having to bribe the Eye of Zaun’s daughter, to keep her quiet about your relationship with said kingpin, you’d have laughed in their faces and told them to get lost.

But alas, here you were.

You’d had a long chat with Jinx about why you weren’t telling people and why she couldn’t tell anyone either. And after surprisingly little convincing from the two of you, Jinx had agreed to keep your secret… for a price. Sweets once a week for every week she kept it a secret. 

Dear Janna, was this girl Silco’s daughter.

She’d also sweetened the deal by throwing in a few extra game nights every month, so that’s how you find yourself sitting at Silco’s desk, Jinx on your lap in the chair opposite his, as you play yet another round of Gun Bun.

Silco is, rather annoyingly, picking incredibly obnoxious words on purpose when it’s his turn, (seriously, how many nine-year-olds know the word egregious?) so you decide that this is the perfect opportunity to mess with him.

At first, you simply decide to spell all of your words wrong, irritating him just a little bit more with every line drawn as he fails to guess the correct letters.

Once he cottons on to that, correcting your spelling like a disappointed teacher, you move onto the next level…

You start making words up.

Jinx giggles and squirms about in your lap when you whisper your nefarious plan to her, earning a narrowed look of suspicion from your criminal(ly gorgeous) boyfriend.

Unfortunately, this tactic only works for one round, because when you finally complete the drawing of Mr. Bunny shooting a gun (complete with the obligatory BANG!) and Silco still hasn’t guessed all the letters, Jinx reveals the word with a menacing glee.

And Silco loses it.

“That is not a word,” he says, immediately glaring at you since you’re the obvious instigator.

He looks so grumpy and so adorably exasperated, you just want to kiss him until he forgets both his own name and just how difficult you like to make his life. 

“It is!” you argue, staring at him whilst you valiantly battle against the urge to smile, before revealing, “I just made it up.”

His whole expression drops into the most incredulous deadpan. 

“Darling.”

“What?” you counter. “All words are made up! It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me.”

There’s a pause where Silco just stares at you, mismatched eyes glimmering with something just on the edge of dangerous. 

You stare back, raising one cheeky eyebrow in challenge. That does it. 

“I think it is best we retire for the evening,” he says, tone clipped and impatient, though his eyes never once leave yours.

Jinx whines in disappointment, climbing from your lap onto the desk just so she can launch herself into Silco’s lap. She clings to him like a kitten until he finally gives in to her and agrees to one more game, as long as it doesn’t involve any words. 

Which of course means your absolute favourite activity in the whole, wide world. Drawing! 

You teach them both a game you played as a child, one where a piece of paper is folded three times, in a way where you can only see one section at a time. 

The first person secretly draws the head and shoulders, with some lines over the fold into the next section so the second person can join it up. They then flip it over to the next section, where the second person draws the torso and arms, while the last person then draws legs and feet, making sure to keep your separate drawings hidden until the very end, where you reveal the character you’ve all made together. 

You go first to demonstrate, drawing the head of a smiling girl that looks a little bit like Jinx (you know, if Jinx were a squiggly, blue doodle). 

After Jinx and Silco have both drawn their sections, you open up the paper and spread it flat on the desk, revealing, to Jinx’s delight, an absolute monstrosity of a character.

Underneath your smiling face, Jinx has doodled a thin torso with long spaghetti arms that loop round and round until their hands rest on their hips. But it’s nothing compared to Silco drawing his own boots and somehow forgetting that he needed to draw legs as well. 

You play this game for a few rounds, until it’s Silco’s turn to draw first. Except he takes a millennium, sketching with his pen like he’s in the middle of an art class. But it’s only when you spot him gently rocking the chair from side to side, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, that you realise he’s trying to lull Jinx to sleep.

And surprisingly, it works, humming quietly under his breath until she falls asleep in his lap, adorably curled up with her face against his chest. 

Once he’s certain that she’s fast asleep, he lifts his head to give you a knowing look before carefully lifting her and carrying her back to her bedroom. You take the look to mean that you should get changed into your pyjamas so you can both cuddle up when he returns from putting her to bed. 

But when you stand up from your chair, groaning as you stretch your tired body towards the rafters, you take a moment to peek at Silco’s drawing, sliding the paper over the varnished wood until you can finally see. 

And you swear your heart melts in your chest when you look down at it. A portrait of you, looking happier than you’ve ever seen yourself looking. At least, up until you’d moved in with Silco. Now, you’re pretty sure you look like this most of the time. 

You’ve begun to stay in his bedroom a few nights a week, usually when he doesn’t stay up working until dawn like a madman. 

Your (imaginary) spy training has gotten a real workout every morning, ensuring no-one sees you make the dash back to your own bedroom, then getting dressed to go and meet Silco in his office like you hadn’t spent the whole night in his bed.

Honestly, part of you wonders if it would just be easier to move some of your clothes into his bedroom, but you’re not sure if he’d want that. The man does have a lot more clothes than you do. 

And what if he’s not ready for you to both officially move in together? How would you even approach asking? Should you just do it and blame the goblins when he asks if you put them there? (They’re cheeky little bastards, you know, they’ve stolen enough of your socks from the washing machine.)

You’re just preparing to leave the office, peering around the corner of the doorway to make sure there’s no-one in sight. You’d left the kingpin snoring in his bed just moments ago, and it’s far too early for Sevika to be anywhere near The Drop, so you’re pretty confident you’re not gonna be caught.

Crouching down a little feels like a good, sneaky spy move, so you bend your knees slightly, duck your head, and begin to tip-toe down the hallway as quietly as you can.

And honestly, even after only a few steps in, you’re genuinely starting to feel like you could break into one of those fancy art museums Topside and complete the heist of the century. That is, until a low voice calls out behind you.

“What in Janna’s name are you doing?”

Janna herself would be proud of the way you hold in the blood-curdling scream that threatens to erupt from your vocal folds.

Instead of waking up everyone in the entirety of Zaun and probably some of Piltover, you clutch your chest and hiss out a wheezing, “Holy fucking fuck-”

You spin around to glare at Silco who is standing in the doorway to his office, coffee cup in hand as he leans nonchalantly against the frame. 

How didn’t you hear him sneak up? And how the hell did he manage to wake up from being borderline comatose AND make himself a coffee in such a short amount of time? 

You squint at him suspiciously as if that’ll make him reveal all his secrets. Maybe he should be the spy…

Silco looks rather amused as he watches you. 

“Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite the potty mouth?” he asks, in that raspy morning voice that is far too hot for its own good. 

“Has anyone ever informed you that it’s rude to try to give your girlfriend a heart attack on purpose?” you shoot back.

He holds his free hand to his t-shirt clad chest in mock offence.

“I can assure you, my love, I was attempting no such thing,” he protests with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen in your whole entire existence. 

You point at him as a threat. 

“Boy, don’t test me. I’ll take you out of my will.”

Silco’s face drops into a faux upset, slapping one hand against his cheek dramatically. 

“Oh no, whatever will I do without your collection of novelty ice-cream scoops?” he questions sardonically.

You return it with an overexaggerated gasp, (but deep down you’re secretly pleased he’s starting to play along with your melodrama; oh how the turn tables).

“How dare you!” you exclaim, throwing both hands up to cage your poor, shattered heart, before you turn your nose up to sniff haughtily. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”

Silco swiftly downs the last of his coffee and then tosses the mug onto the sofa behind him blindly, instantly changing your mind on what you just said.

How the fuck did he do that without it breaking into a million pieces? And more importantly, how is he easily the hottest man in the world? 

“I think not,” he practically growls, stepping forward into the corridor. 

“You can’t stop me,” you announce loftily. “Me and the Scoop Troop are outta here.”

He advances on you slowly until he’s leaning down to speak into your ear, the roughness in his timbre sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Then I suppose I shall have to convince you to stay.”

Abruptly, Silco leans down to pick you up, deftly swinging you up into a bridal carry, forcing you to try your best not to squeal and accidentally wake everybody up. 

Then, he turns on his heel and carries you back in his office, kicking the door shut behind you as you giggle breathlessly into his chest. 

Maybe the reason you look so much happier now after moving in with Silco, is because you are. 

-

Of course, spy training in the mornings is not the only kind of training you embark on. 

True to his word, Silco begins to teach you self-defence after the multiple attacks you’ve endured since accepting the job as his negotiator. (To be fair, you’d endured some during your time at the market stall too, but that had been at a significantly lower danger level compared to this.)

So you’re in the bar one early afternoon, a few of the tables pushed out of the way to give you room to properly move about. Silco has given strict orders that no-one is to enter the bar until you’re finished, which had earned a huff of annoyance from Sevika, who would be forced to take the long-winding emergency exit in and out of the building.

Standing across from Silco in the cleared space, you ready yourself to learn some basic defence, hoping it’ll trump your current tactic of just running away really, really fast… (okay, fine, a moderate jog at best).

You’d hoped to learn how to properly use the knife Silco had gifted you in the market, excitedly bringing it along in the hopes that he’ll show you some cool moves.

But he’d confiscated it the very second you’d taken it out of the box and nearly dropped it on your own foot, blade down. 

So… self-defence it is, for now. 

Your boyfriend (smoking hot; an utter bitch; an absolute icon) stands opposite you, hands clasped behind his back as he talks. 

“Today I will show you some basic movements that will allow you to disengage if an attacker were to grab onto you,” he explains, reminding you of your old geography teacher (who was also your everything-teacher because, you know, Zaun). “Then, depending on how well you-”

Silco continues to tell you his lesson plan in detail, but honestly, you stop listening the second you notice that his shirt sleeves are rolled up. And he’s wearing a different waistcoat. It looks a little older than the usual ones he wears, but it’s still hot. Really accentuates his slutty little waist.  

Your cheeks get warm just thinking about it. 

Is it hot in here or is it just you? 

And gods, isn’t he pretty with his hair a little bit messy, those dark waves just the tiniest bit mussed up. And wouldn’t he look even prettier if you ran your hands through it and maybe put your lips on-

“Are you listening?” Silco cuts in. 

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, positively startled at the interruption. 

“Yes, sir,” you blurt out.

He smirks in response which does not help your predicament in the slightest. 

“Very well,” he nods, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “We will begin by learning a disengagement technique that would be useful if somebody were to-”

You swear you’re trying to listen.

Honestly.

But that voice. And the way his lips move when he talks. 

And fuck, it’s hot when his throat bobs when he swallows and-

“Are you ready?”

Uh oh, you did it again. 

“Huh?” you mutter, dragging your gaze away from his throat.

“I said, are you ready to try the movements I just explained?” Silco asks, raising one eyebrow expectantly. 

“Of course I am,” you scoff confidently, despite having not listened to a single word he’s just said. “I’m practically a cage fighter at this point. I could take you down faster than you could say 2-in-1 decarboxylator and herb infuser.”

He doesn’t ask. In fact, he’s stopped asking what the hell you’re talking about when you’re both busy because it more often than not just leads to a twenty minute monologue, which he’s more than happy to listen to as you lie in bed together. But not when you’re about to learn important skills like how to defend yourself in a fight.

“Alright then, show me,” Silco responds, stepping closer to you to do whatever the hell he’s been talking about for the last five minutes. 

Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs a handful of your shirt with one hand, scrunching it up right next to your collarbone. 

Your body jolts forward slightly with the motion, eyes flicking up to gawp at him in alarm. 

But instead of flipping you over his shoulder and breaking your spine (you assume that was the intent), Silco just looks down at you, waiting patiently for you to make your move.

Of course, you have no idea what you’re doing (ever), so you just stand there like a rat in headlights, staring up at him in awe. 

“Grab onto your shirt like I told you, darling,” he instructs softly when you still don’t do anything. 

“It’s okay, you can have it if you want,” you whisper back in a daze. 

“No, grasp the fabric with this hand,” he says, gently guiding your hand to fist the material, right next to where his hand is still holding onto it. “And then grab onto my wrist with your other hand.”

You do and suddenly, you feel like you’re in a sauna. 

Why’s he grabbing your shirt like that? And how in the actual fuck can somebody’s wrist be so goddamn hot?

“Now pull your shirt away from me with your hand and push my wrist away with the other,” Silco continues, seemingly unaware of how flustered you are. 

Oh, so that’s what he’s trying to get you to do. 

You hesitate for a moment, blankly staring at his arm. Only then does Silco notice your reticence, but he must put it down to nerves because the grip on your shirt lessens slightly. 

“It’s alright, my love, just try your best,” he tells you soothingly. 

You smile up at him, utterly dazzled by his… him-ness. 

“Okay.”

You just want to impress him. To make your silly little guy as proud of you as you are of him. 

So you try your best…

Which of course means putting way too much power into it. 

With absolutely zero warning, you shove him away from you at the same time as you rip your shirt from his grasp, the force causing you to stumble and trip yourself up on your feet. Instinctively, you reach out and grab onto Silco’s waistcoat, pulling him down with you. 

He just about manages to catch the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, but  can’t save himself from crashing down on top of you.

Your fingers stay latched onto him as he leans up to check on you, hand still cupping the back of your head protectively. 

“Are you alright?” he asks frantically, rapidly looking over you for any injuries.

Your brain must have short-circuited because in lieu of answering, you simply gaze up at him in shock.

The fall appears to have knocked some of his hair loose, now hanging down over his forehead in strands, and sweet Janna, this should be a crime. 

It’s not fair. How are you supposed to do anything or even think straight with this?

Silco cups your cheek and calls your name, clearly panicked. 

“Can you hear me?”

It’s too much for your poor heart, so give you in and press your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Silco freezes for a split second before letting out a startled, hmpf!

He moves back, breaking the kiss to hold both of your hands against the floor to stop you from leaning up. 

“Darling, this is serious! You cannot kiss me in the middle of training,” he huffs, exasperated.

You hope the puppy-dog eyes will earn you your forgiveness. 

“But you’re just so cute.”

He sighs, head hanging down low for a brief second before he meets your gaze again.

“Are you injured?”

“No. Are you?”

Silco appears to be relieved, but also a little perplexed. 

“I’m fine, darling. How did you lose your balance so easily?” he asks. “It was supposed to be a simple manoeuvre.”

“I uh… I got distracted,” you say bashfully.

Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. 

Luckily, he just runs a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. He fails spectacularly. 

“You cannot get distracted in a fight, you must be vigilant at all times,” he tells you, like he’s trying to be stern. 

You take no notice. 

“Even if the person I'm fighting is ridiculously hot?”

Silco ignores the question (despite the fact that the tips of his ears are turning the loveliest shade of red) and continues pretending to be strict. 

“Let’s try getting out of this hold,” he says. “What do you think would be the best way to escape from this position?”

You don’t even bother looking for a way to escape, still too focused on giving some love to your mans.

Leaning up as far as you can, you deliver a quick kiss to his nose, which, to your absolute delight, only makes him blush even more. 

He says your name as a scold.

“What did I just say?”

You toss your head to the side and whine, rumbling your legs a little against the floor like a child. 

“Why can’t I just do this if someone attacks me? I feel like it’s kinda working.”

“Do what?” Silco asks with a frown.

“Kiss them.”

And gods, you swear the noise that emanates from his chest is a growl.

“Absolutely not,” he grunts, pressing himself slightly closer to you until you involuntarily squeak.

Silco releases his grip on your hands and climbs off of you, helping you to stand up so he can dust off your trousers. 

Over the course of the next hour, he does actually teach you one or two methods to escape someone’s grasp, but perhaps more usefully, he explains that it’s better to focus on prevention of attacks, rather than relying on moves that you’re probably going to forget when filled with adrenaline.

But just knowing that you’ll have both a slew of bodyguards and a little bit of knowledge in self-defence makes you feel a bit more confident, which was probably the only reason you agreed to learn in the first place.

Of course, the impromptu lesson ends when you trip again and nearly break your nose falling into a table, this time when you’re only trying to get a glass of water. 

Being led carefully back upstairs by Silco, he exhaustedly suggests that training takes place in his office from now on, to which you ask if you can be wrapped up entirely in bubble wrap in what you would call your Safety Suit.

You get no response, which in your books is not strictly a no, so you make a mental note to add an industrial amount of bubble wrap to the next product order you fill out.

Lacing your fingers with his, you give him the biggest, most affectionate smile as you follow him upstairs to the shower, wondering just how in the hell you got so lucky.

-

It’s only a few weeks later that Jinx gets sick, somehow catching a head cold that thankfully isn’t too concerning, just a bit of a temperature that puts her in bed for a few days.

Although, much like her father, she's incredibly demanding. Which of course only multiplies tenfold the second she starts to feel under the weather, insisting either you or Silco be with her all day every day. So the two of you take shifts, juggling paperwork, meetings, and spending time with Jinx, as well as trying to look after yourselves.

It works for a few days, distracting Jinx when she gets bored or frustrated, coercing her to eat and drink, the three of you even spending time together to discuss her new invention ideas while she’s stuck in bed.

Then, it all goes downhill from there. 

You’re on Jinx duty one afternoon, down in the kitchen and in the middle of making her a warm drink when a loud commotion erupts from the bar. Your head pops curiously around the door frame only to be greeted with the sight of utter chaos; a slew of the club’s bouncers and Silco’s usual bodyguards frantically rushing through the club.

For a brief second, you wonder if there’s a security convention happening that you hadn’t been made aware of.

But the moment you spot the Doctor slinking through doors and up the stairs towards Silco’s office, your heart drops in your chest.

He’s supposed to be at a meeting right now with Sevika, across town.

Or will it have finished by now? Would he have had time to walk all the way back to The Drop?

Fuck, what if something happened during the meeting?

Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, you slip through the crowd and up the stairs, all the while hoping you’ll find your boyfriend in his office as normal, pacing in front of the window like he usually does when there’s been a hitch in the plans. 

But when you reach the doors, you find two more burly guards blocking the entrance. 

You suck in a breath of air and take measured steps down the corridor until you’re standing in front of them. 

“Hey guys, I need to talk to Silco,” you say as calmly as possible, pointing to the door behind them. 

“Sorry, can’t let you in,” one of them says, barely even sparing you a glance.  

You frown. 

“Why? What’s happened?” you ask, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. Then, at the risk of sounding too involved, “Is he okay?”

“There’s been an incident,” the other grunts. 

You hold in the urge to scream and respond as courteously as you can given the situation. 

“Yes, I gathered that, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”

The guards barely look at you, as if you’re just a fly buzzing in front of them. 

“Sorry. Protocol.”

Your fists clench at your sides. 

He’s your partner, for Janna’s sake! 

For all you know, something terrible could’ve happened and these two chumps are treating you like you’re the maid! As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you rank higher than these two in the pecking order anyway. 

You put on your meanest face and glare up at them, channelling all your Eye of Zaun energy.

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s arse about protocol, I need to see him right-”

Even just the mention of protocol reminds you of Jinx, who you’d completely forgotten about in all the hubbub. 

Your mouth drops open and you spin on your heel mid-sentence, racing down the corridor to her bedroom. Footsteps land heavily on the floor until you’re bursting through into her room the instant your fingers grasp the handle.

Jinx is completely fine, albeit a little startled at your dramatic entrance, sitting up in bed where you’d left her. You almost collapse in relief. 

“You were gone for ages!” she complains with a huff, until her eyes land on your empty hands and her face screws up, whining, “Hey, where’s my hot choccy milk?”

You rush to her side, gently soothing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with your hand. 

“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I forgot,” you attempt to placate her. “I’ll make one for you in a little bit.”

Her annoyance fades and you just see the worry overtake her expression as she examines you, eerily similar to her father.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”

She isn’t buying it. 

“Yeah there is,” Jinx scowls, even crossing her arms against her chest to show you she really means business. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

You sigh. What the hell are you meant to tell her? You don’t even know what’s going on.

“There’s just been… a little bit of an incident, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re safe here,” you try to say reassuringly. 

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” you reply. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Gods, you hope that’s the case. 

Honestly, you feel awful lying to her, but you have no idea what’s happening yourself. So right now, you both need to stay as calm as possible.

You sit with her for however long, keeping both Jinx and yourself distracted with a game while you internally battle with yourself to stop the worry from overtaking you. 

It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours when the door finally opens and Sevika enters, automatically throwing a grimace towards Jinx.

Of course, Jinx isn’t Sevika’s greatest friend on the best of days, but now that she’s sick, it’s entirely worse. She throws the covers over her head and groans in retaliation.

“Boss wants to see you,” Sevika announces, looking directly at you, thankfully ignoring Jinx’s outburst. 

Hope flutters in your chest for a split second. If he wants to see you, that means he’s awake and more than likely talking.

But you can’t really ask the six million questions that are running through your brain with Jinx here listening. And you also can’t really leave her with Sevika, unless you want the entire room to be destroyed. 

“Can you fetch Ran for me?” you ask, begging the woman with your eyes whilst keeping your tone neutral. “I can’t leave Jinx on her own.”

Sevika sneers, clearly annoyed. 

Then, you watch as she considers Jinx (still hiding under the covers), and probably considers being the one to watch over her for the foreseeable. 

Without another word, she promptly turns on her heel and walks out the room.

The whole time you’re waiting for her return, Jinx pesters you to let her see her Dad, but you make her promise that she’ll stay in bed until he gives the okay. 

Luckily, Sevika is back within minutes, Ran in tow, who silently reclines in the furthest chair from her bed. You explain to Jinx that you’ll be back soon, and encourage her to tell Ran about all her new invention ideas.

And the very moment you’ve shut the door to her bedroom, Sevika pauses outside, presumably to update you on the situation.

But your anxiety immediately gets the better of you and you sprint down the hall like a madman, too nervous to even wait a few seconds.

Vaguely, you hear Sevika mutter, “Don’t know why I fucking bother,” as you speed away, but you’ll have to apologise to her later.

You need to see him now. 

When you arrive at Silco’s office, the guards move to the side in preparation, although they do manage to look the tiniest bit alarmed when you burst through the doors yelling, “I just really love paperwork!” and kick the door shut behind you.

Hopefully that’ll quench any suspicions they might have. 

Silco is clearly not in his office, so the next port of call is his bedroom, of which you slam the door open and tumble into the room, hanging onto the door knob for dear life when the motion threatens to send you sprawling across the floor.

From his bed where he’s laid out, Silco’s eyes widen in bewilderment, jolting back against the pillows his head is propped up on. 

Your fingers grip the door handle while your eyes fill with tears, gasping at the sight of him. 

It’s hard not to miss the stained bandage around his thigh, missing waistcoat, and filthy, rumpled clothes. And the fact that he’s much paler than usual. 

You feel sick. 

“Sil…”

“I’m fine, darling,” he attempts to mollify you, shifting about as he tries to sit up.

“No, no, don’t move,” you choke out.

You rush over to him, uncaring of the way your knees crack against the ground when you heavily drop beside his bed. 

“What-” you swallow the knot in your throat, shakily willing the tears away. “What happened?”

A hand reaches out to comfort him, but you hesitate, hovering above his arm.

The last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt him.

Silco grasps your hand with his, firmly intertwining your fingers together. But you beat him to it, bringing his hand to your mouth to gently kiss his knuckles.

“An individual attacked us on our way back to the club,” he explains, two-toned eyes focused on where your mouth rests on the skin of his hand. 

You look up at him, brow furrowed. 

“An individual? Did you see what they looked like?”

“No, they were masked and escaped before Sevika or I could apprehend them,” he replies, voice clearly tired and groggy.

You want to ask why the hell they were alone without any guards, but you know he’ll just get huffy about it. Something about being able to look after himself.

Your hand runs over your face as you sigh.

“Do you think it was one of the gangs?”

That’d be the most obvious set of culprits. 

“It could be, or it could be a lone fanatic who disagrees with my policies,” Silco replies. “We will conduct a thorough investigation and in the meantime security measures will be tripled, you and Jinx included.”

“What did the Doctor say?”

“The usual,” he says, avoiding eye contact as his gaze trails to your clasped hands once more. If there’s one thing that Silco hates, it’s talking about his own health and wellbeing. “The Shimmer injections should speed things along.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before cutting in with a question of his own. 

“How is Jinx?”

“She’s fine, worried about you,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in comfort.

Suddenly, your eyes meet his, filling with tears once more as your mind begins to spiral.

What if-

You cut off that train of thought immediately, letting go of his hand and leaning forward to lightly rest your forehead against his side.

“Oh, Sil,” you mumble shakily into the creased fabric of his shirt. 

“Come here, darling,” he says, gently pushing you to sit back up.

You look up to see him patting the space beside him, the side you usually sleep on.

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” you protest weakly. 

“You won’t,” he says with resolve.

You only hesitate for a moment longer before standing up and making your way around the bed, gingerly climbing onto your side.

Silco quickly reaches for you and pulls you over to him, laying your head against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You’re careful not to lean on him too heavily. 

And gods dammit, as you lie there cocooned in his arms, those tears slowly and silently leak out against your will, soaking into his burgundy shirt.

“I was so worried,” you begin, hoping he can’t detect the wobble in your voice. “I… I thought…”

“Shh, my love,” he hums into your hair. “I’m here now.”

You allow yourself to relax in his presence, beyond thankful that he’s here and he’s alive, even if he’s injured. 

You’ll take care of him every single day until he’s better. And even after that too. For as long as he wants you.

But as much as you want to stay in his arms right now, reassuring yourself with each inhale and exhale of breath that levers your head on his chest, you have to get up. 

“Where are you going?” Silco protests when his arms slip away from you.

“I need to check on Jinx,” you explain, reluctantly climbing off the bed with a sniff. “Plus, it might look a bit suspicious if I spend too long in here. Might start a few rumours.”

Silco frowns when you stand at the foot of the bed and straighten your clothes, scrubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the tears.

“Bring Jinx here, then you can stay as long as you like,” he says, almost with a pout.

You try not to smile at the way he sounds like a little boy trying to get out of bedtime

“She’s still in bed,” you explain. “Plus, she’ll get upset if she sees that you’re hurt. I’ll send Sevika back in to watch over you.”

Silco doesn’t look convinced, so you wander over to his side again.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back later,” you say, kissing his forehead tenderly. 

He catches your hand before you can leave, smirking a little. 

“Why can’t you tell everyone you’re my nurse?” he asks, that mischief still lurking despite the exhaustion. “Then you could spend the night here, no questions asked.”

You tug your hand out of his grasp, glaring down at him in faux annoyance. 

“If you weren’t already injured, I would actually smack you right now,” you threaten.

“Sounds lovely,” he grins, reaching for your hand until you dance out of his reach with a yelp.

You begin to walk towards the door. 

“Stay in bed, you menace. And don’t do anything I would do!” you call out over your shoulder as you leave, exiting the room before you do anything stupid (like offering to give him a sponge bath just because you want to take his shirt off). 

And as you go, you pray to Janna that this period of recovery with Silco’s injury is not going to be a trial. The last thing you need right now is any more stress. 

-

The period of recovery is a trial. 

But did you honestly expect anything less with Silco as your patient? 

Luckily, his leg begins to heal fairly quickly, no doubt thanks to the Shimmer injections. But it still takes a bit of time until he can get back to work as normal.

After checking up on Jinx, you find out from Sevika that the Doctor had actually ordered bed rest until he gives the okay. Which is a relief at first because it means that you can bully Silco into properly resting for once in his life.

Except, that means you have to take over the brunt of the meetings and paperwork. 

Between the worry about both Jinx and Silco’s recoveries, and having to carry most of the business, you think you’re losing your mind. 

You continue to take care of Jinx, as well as Silco, who are both the whiniest, most demanding two people you’ve ever met when they’re sick. 

Jinx hates that she can’t visit Silco in case she gives him an infection and bugs you constantly about going to see him. And Silco borderline whines every time you stop him from getting out of bed to ‘just smoke one cigar and fill in one shipping manifest at his desk’. 

Yeah, no. 

More often than not, you’re running between the two of them, perpetually washing your hands and making sure your mask is secure on your face. 

Sometimes you’ll briefly stop on the way to inhale a snack. Sometimes you’ll shove your face under the sink taps and get both a drink and a wash at the same time. Other times you try not to scream into the nearest pillow or cushion in fear of accidentally losing your voice. 

This time, you’ve just finished putting Jinx to bed (a battle far more ferocious than probably any battle in history, ever), and you’re now on your way to check on Silco, ready for his new evening routine. 

Check stitches. Clean wound. Re-bandage. Give medicine. Give food. Check he’s actually taken medicine. Give drink. Find a new book for him to read because he’s bored, darling. 

But instead of finding him laying in bed, plucking his comb like it’s a musical instrument, he’s standing up (barely) and clutching to the dresser.

You watch incredulously as he attempts to tug his trousers over his injured leg, sweating, pale, and clearly out of breath. 

“Are you serious right now?”

He looks up, lips pulling into the tiniest smile at the sight of you. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, before going back to the task at hand. 

You think your head is going to explode. 

“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly.

The tray of his food and meds are placed on the bedside table, while Silco continues to wrestle with his trousers. Frankly, he looks ridiculous, pyjama top still on, trousers halfway up one leg as the other gets stuck on his ankle over and over again.

“I have a meeting,” he informs you, as if that’s an explanation. 

You look up to the ceiling like you’ll find a piece of your sanity on it. There’s definitely no meetings scheduled in the diary.

Dear gods, if he’s got a fever now and is hallucinating, you think you might just evaporate. 

“What meeting?”

Silco decides not to give you any details and instead just calmly states,

“It is very important. I must attend.”

Then, he carries on trying to get dressed like he wasn’t stabbed in the leg only a week earlier.

You can almost visualise the stress levels rising in your body; the jug about to overflow and spill out of you. 

What you should probably do right now is carefully help him back into bed and fetch Sevika so you can all decide on the best solution to this dilemma.

But you’re human, so you let your emotions get the better of you instead. 

“No.”

Silco has the gall to look surprised.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, genuinely shocked at your directness. 

“I said no, now get back in bed,” you say, moving over to him to help him take off those stupid trousers and put his pyjamas back on.

He must not understand how serious you are right now because he continues to gently protest.

“Darling, I appreciate-”

“Silco,” you cut him off, tears filling your eyes as you arrive in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. Your voice is shockingly quiet and precise. “I need you to get back in bed or I think I am actually, seriously going to lose it.”

He looks startled, shuffling forward to comfort you. 

“Sweetheart-”

“Please, Silco,” you cut him off, your voice cracking with the words. 

Silco appraises you for a moment, watching your tense body and distraught face. 

Finally, he speaks. 

“Alright,” he concedes quietly, mismatched eyes full of concern. 

He manages to step out of his trousers and you help him hobble back over to the bed, pulling up the covers so he can get under the sheets.

And once he’s comfortably sat up against the headboard, he opens his mouth to speak again, eyes watching you carefully the whole time. 

You don’t let him. 

You lean forward, kiss his cheek, and then step away. 

“Please eat this,” you say, nodding to the tray on his bedside table. “I’m going to check on Jinx and then I will be back to change your bandage.”

Your footsteps out the room are measured and by the time he calls your name, asking you to wait, you’re already out the door. But you can’t stop walking because if you do, you’ll burst into tears…

Which is exactly what happens after you check on Jinx.

You’re just on your way back to Silco’s bedroom when one of the employees stops you in the corridor to say that a warehouse has been raided, meaning a bunch of stock has been stolen. 

You politely thank her for letting you know, ask her to inform Sevika, take a sharp turn into your bedroom, and break down sobbing.

Truthfully, you’re not sure how long you spend kneeling on the floor next to your bed, face down as you cry into the sheets.

But it must be long enough because the door opens and a set of limping footsteps shuffle towards you. 

He sits down on the bed and gently - soothingly - runs his fingers through your hair. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath between each word, but you somehow manage to heave out, “You… should… be… in… bed,” sobbing the last word until it’s completely unintelligible. 

“I know, my love, I know,” Silco consoles you.

He delicately encourages you to get up and get into bed, following you under the covers despite there barely being enough room for the both of you. 

Once he’s reassured you that you’re not hurting his leg, you let him hold you in his arms, rubbing your back until you stop crying. 

You have a killer headache. And a big part of you feels bad for letting him comfort you when it should be the other way round. 

“Do you know why I gave you this bedroom when I first asked you to work and live here?” he eventually mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle. “No, why?”

“It’s the only one with a single bed.”

Slowly, you pull back to look at him in disbelief. 

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t invite anyone over,” he explains nonchalantly, like any sane person would invite you to live with them and give you the tiniest bed ever, just because he was jealous of even the thought of you having a partner. 

You huff a laugh and his lips quirk into a smile in response. 

“There was never anyone to invite over,” you say. “Plus, it doesn’t really make sense to invite someone over when they already live with you.”

Silco watches you affectionately. He cups your cheeks and leans forward to capture your lips in the slowest, most tender kiss. 

Your eyes flutter closed and you whisper against him, “You’re injured.” 

“My lips are perfectly fine,” he mumbles back. 

You gently whack him on the arm. 

“Silly boy.”

He smirks (the one that still gives you butterflies) and steals another kiss before cuddling up to you again. 

“Thank you for looking after everything for me,” he says over your shoulder. “In truth, I am not quite sure what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know how you do it all, I feel like one of those stretchy dolls being pulled in every direction until they snap,” you snort, scrubbing a hand over your face. 

“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweetheart. I am continually astounded by your unwavering strength and compassion,” Silco tells you. 

Then, he blows an amused breath of air out of his nose, like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s thinking. “It’s no wonder I-”

He pauses, whole body suddenly tense in your arms. 

You wait patiently for him to continue, squeezing him a little bit tighter in reassurance. 

“Hmm?”

Silco eventually lets out a shaky exhale, simultaneously relaxing into your touch, almost like he’s melting into your warmth. 

“I know that you will be just fine. We will be just fine,” he says.

You hum again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with each looping circle traced on your skin. 

Deep down, you know you’ll have to go fetch him some water and his first aid supplies when you wake. You’ll sit in your armchair beside your own bed until he wakes up from some much needed rest. 

But he’s worth it. He’s worth the crick in your neck, and the reduced hours of sleep, and the overwhelming stress.

He’s worth it all. 

Because you love him. 

-

a/n: did anyone else play the folded paper drawing game or was it just me?? 

edit: i just googled it and the game is called Exquisite Corpse 😭

edit edit: so i’m currently trying to plot out the rest of this story so there’ll hopefully be fewer breaks between chapters (it was only meant to be a one-shot lmao), wish me luck my lieges 🙏 if you’re still reading this daft story after all this time, ily. if you’re new, welcome ily

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #part 8

[cloudycaffeinatedcryptid]

What do you think the comfort activities would be for each counselor? Like if they had a really long or bad day and they just want to decompress at the end of it?

ooooh thank you so much for this <3 this is the perfect break between writing binges & i love this question!! prepare for a lot of headcanons, i had to think about this a lot

Abi - i think she draws, that's pretty canon, it calms her down. i also think she paints when she really wants to zone out & not think (she loves watercolor but she's been experimenting with acrylics lately) & she does a lot of landscape paintings. the only color that usually sits untouched is red. the smears on her fingers bring up bad memories. she also burns relaxing incense & listens to soothing instrumental tracks

Ryan - he listens to his podcast usually, but i think his sister plays piano (she's very good) & she often gets him to sit down so she can teach him scales or beginner songs & it relaxes him. otherwise i can see him settling down in the comfortable chair wedged in the corner of his room with his drawing tablet, lights dim, & just working on some art. occasionally his sis barges in to play her DS on his bed while he does & then they both just exist together in silence

Nick - they give us so little about Nick that i honestly could just say anything about this freak. but i think he gets stoned & watches terrible movies when he needs to decompress. he's seen Llamageddon eight times. i can also see him going for short walks or half-listening to nature documentaries while he cooks

Emma - when she needs to wind down, she love taking hot baths. she has a ton of bath bombs & oils & products, so she lights some scented candles, turns off the lights, puts on some relaxing tunes, & soaks. i also think she learned to sew so she could mend her own expensive clothes, but then she ended up enjoying it, so she sew/embroiders sometimes on the side to relax. she prolly does yoga too

Kaitlyn - she goes for runs, for sure. it's good exercise, builds her stamina, & helps keep her mind off... everything. she likes the early morning runs when it's just chilly enough to barely see her breath & she has a killer playlist for them. her guilty pleasure is rupaul's drag race & so every season you can catch her, fresh out of the shower, in her sweats, mug of coffee in hands & a bottle of wine on the table, pore strips on, enraptured & getting way too intense about the show

Dylan - this mans pops three edibles & opens the NASA website so he can watch space in real time. if he can manage it, he'll lay for hours on the floor with his cat purring on his chest. sometimes he'll watch cartoons or sci-fi shows to zone out, or he'll put on his headphones & try to forget the world. no i'm not projecting

Jacob - he strikes me as the kind of person who considers working out to be relaxing, so he spends a lot of his free time doing that. otherwise i see him being into cheesy rom-coms (altho he'd never admit it) so some nights he makes himself some popcorn, mixes in m&ms, & settles in to watch The Notebook for the tenth time

Laura - she's def one of those ppl who can't go too long without doing something so her "relaxing" time is usually cleaning, animal care - possibly a gamer. she likes staying busy. whenever she actually settles down to relax, it's usually with & bc of Max. they play checkers together & watch movies they can make fun of. they binge criminal minds together. she's not great in the kitchen but she helps Max bake sometimes & she's an expert on the grill. i think she would enjoy taking up gardening if they get their own property

Max - he loves his relaxation time. he bakes, he naps, he definitely would enjoy gardening, but he always relaxes easier when he's with Laura <3 he prolly plays idle video games like animal crossing, he was for sure heavy into pokemon, & he loves cartoons. the most relaxing time of the day for him is 3pm, when he can eat cereal on the couch & watch scooby-doo, & he doesn't need a blanket bc the blinds are open & the sun keeps him warm :)

#projection? don't know her #don't worry about my brain #i would love to hear other ppl's opinions on this #i had to soul vibe for this one #im Not Normal about these characters #pry them from my cold dead talons #the quarry #ask moth

[poppet-seed]

I NEED TO RAMBLE THIS OUT FAST BEFORE I FORGET.

Siren-Pirate au!

Three captains all of the same blood? Oil? Eclipse, moon snd sun.

Eclipse the boss/captain of the whole ship, he is in control of everything and oversees all that his brothers do. He's well loved by all his crew and a rather humble captain. He's a greedy pirate but only for the grater good. He and the entire crew steal from the rich to give to the poor. They are criminals for a good cause.

Moon the navigator, he is in charge of plotting their routes and keeping them out of siren filled water. He drives the ship and makes sure everything is running according to plan. Moon and sun are twins while eclipse is older. None the less, moon was created first by a few minutes so he's technically the middle child.

Sun the planner, he is in charge of raid planning, supply runs and making sure all the crew is healthy. He deals with everything practical on the ship and is your go to guy when somthing goes wrong. He's the more forgiving captain. Willing to take new members under his wing. However don't mistake his kind heart for weakness. He will not hesitate to throw you overboard and feed you to the sirens, should you dare try to betray his brothers.

And of course our beautiful y/n. The siren that haunts their ship where ever she may sail.

While this au isn't exactly an x reader it's definitely got some juice.

Y/n wants nothing more than to bring the ship down along with all the dashing captains to be forever cherished in their hall of trinkets and treasures. They find them all beyond fascinating and simply must have them. Preferably still ticking.

The captains are vaguely aware of the siren but are under the impression they only live in certain waters and avoid thoes areas to keep the crew and themselves safe.

Y/n singing spell is very powerful. Soft. Melodic and very enduring. If below deck you can still hear it. Not clear enough to be entranced but well enough to get that buzz and fuzzy feeling you can't ignore. It tricks sailors up to the deck where the spell can be at full effect and draw people closer to the edge of the boat.

Usually y/n chooses a target. Can't have all three captains fall in at once. They'd never be able to drag them all back together. No. They'll pick them off. One at a time.

Y/n usually hunts alone. But if push came to shove they'd bring an army of sirens to drag every sailor from the ship into the ocean below.

Moon is a lot more resilient to y/n's song. I won't say why. I'll leave it up to your imagination.

Eclipse keeps a very close eye on the whole crew and his brothers. He's not one to let accidents happen when they can be prevented.

I'm going to leave this here for now, ignore how messy this is. If I don't scribble this down I will forget by tomorrow.

Captain Eclipse ref

Captain Sun ref

Captain Moon ref

Siren Y/N ref

#fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf y/n #y/n #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf eclipse #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #siren pirate au #pirate au #captain eclipse #captain moon #captain sun #siren y/n #poppet #rambling #I'M FREAKING OUT #WHY IS IT ALWAYS AS I'M JUST ABOUT TO SLEEP #THATS WHEN MY BRAIN LETS ME GO CRAZY #I WANT TO DRAW #PLEASE #THEIR DESIGNS ARE SO VIVID IN MY HEAD #AAAAAAAAAAA #poppetart

[brucenorris007]

Everything You Know

"Transcription will show interviewer as agent Roque. Time is 0832 hours, interview room 01. Conducting interview of agent Rouge on subject of Mobians and relevant threat assessment per the interests of new administration. Also present is G.U.N. Commander"

"How much longer are you going to keep a lady waiting?"

"Um."

"Proceed, agent Roque."

"Yes sir."

"I'm all yours, hon."

"Right. Agent Rouge; you stated before that you have intel on active Mobians that G.U.N. might find useful."

"I'm the best there is."

"Various teams have already performed thorough research"

"Oh, I'm sure you have a file for everyone. Even little old me, don't you?"

". . ."

"That's our thing. But those files are still works in progress, and I think you've stalled out for a while."

". . ."

"What information do you have?"

"First, the Chaotix."

"That's an agency consisting of one Vector the crocodile, Espio the chameleon and Charmy bee."

"Frankly, the three of them together are nearly as adept at gathering intel as G.U.N.'s whole intelligence branch."

"What sort of resources do they have access to?"

"Ours make theirs look almost analog; which just speaks to how skilled they are."

". . ."

"Don't frown, Commander; I said nearly. They're not as good as me."

"And individually?"

"Vector's deceptively organized. No one would think it by looking at him, but his attention to detail is second to none. Espio can fully control his camouflage at will and claims he's a trained ninja. I've never seen him kill before, but then, most people don't see me, either."

". . ."

"And Charmy?"

"He's six."

"And?"

"He's six. What more do you want? I'm not doing a detailed report on any children."

"Does that include"

"My cutoff is seven years old."

". . .Does that include Cream the Rabbit?"

"Nauseatingly sweet. Jot that on a post-it for your files."

"All right; let's move on, then."

". . . those kids can fly carrying upwards of 400 pounds. . ."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind, big boy. You were saying?"

"Right. Let's see. Amy Rose; her name has appeared on an impressive number of reports."

"Ha! I'm not surprised. That girl basically fears nothing, or at least no authority of any kind. She's got an odd kind of charisma that somehow draws others into helping her. Nothing like mine, of course, but I'm a bit more selective about who I work with."

"I'm seeing several counts of criminal activity here."

"All null and void per the last administration, hon. She's been good as far as the law's concerned since then. No telling how long that'll last."

"And how would you assess her through the lens of being a possible threat?"

"Hard to know; like I said, there's no telling what she might pursue next. If any of her goals brought her in contention with G.U.N. though, I doubt that would stop her trying."

"What about this friend of hers, a Big the Cat?"

"Seriously? We've got one for him? He's a teddy bear. Literally only cares about his pet frog and good fishing. He's nil as a threat to anyone except tuna."

"Okay. Just a few more"

"Let me guess. Knuckles the Echidna."

"Do you have anything on him?"

"Amateur treasure hunter. Militant, dedicated to his job; which keeps him out of most of the business we're interested in anyway, since he lives on a floating island. By my estimate, he's the strongest thing alive."

". . . !"

"Not that he can't be handled. Insofar as we'd ever need to handle a recluse."

"Is he really an echidna?"

"He seems to think so."

"Thank you. That just leaves"

"Little fox boy for last, hm?"

"Uh."

"Tails, birth name Miles Prower. The reason my cutoff age is seven; he's at least as smart as Eggman, if not more so. Kid works with less of a budget than the Chaotix and he can still build better aircraft, mechanical units and weaponry than the Doctor. If he wasn't such a goody-two-shoes, I might want to teach him a few things myself."

"That's quite a statement."

"And not a word of exaggeration."

". . ."

"That's everyone, huh, stud?"

"Actually"

"Thanks for this little date, Roque; would've been more fun with some wine and sans chaperone."

"Agent Rouge, I have to ask"

"That's me clocked out for the day, boys; you know where to find me."

"Sonic the Hedgehog."

". . ."

". . ."

"Of all active Mobians, any information on him is the highest priority. What have you got on him?"

"Commander."

"Agent Rouge."

"I believe it would be in G.U.N.'s best interest for me to keep hold of my intel on subject Sonic the Hedgehog."

". . ."

". . ."

"Very well. That will be all."

Creak.

Slam.

"Sir?"

"She's right, agent Roque; she is among our best. That's why we have a file on her in the first place."

- - - - -

Rouge sighed, rolling out her neck and flexing her wings once the door shut behind her. G.U.N. used exactly the same chairs in their interview rooms as in their interrogation cells, and they left her stiff if she sat too long.

No doubt the nerds working on a contingency plan for Sonic would be crying again tonight, but it wasn't her problem. There really wasn't much to learn about him anyway.

She could have told them that his friends-particularly the girl and his pocket genius-were the nearest he had to any kind of vulnerability or weak point, but at best it was a moot point. At worst, G.U.N. would do far more harm than good with the information.

She'd pieced together herself what Eggman must've figured out years ago:

The consequences for going after Sonic's so-called "weak points" weren't worth any prize.

Rouge tucked in her wings and made her way down the hall. All told, it hadn't been the way she wanted to spend her morning, but it'd been necessary. The new administration had been acting a little shifty toward Mobians compared to the previous.

Volunteering for a verbal report would put her-and if only by proxy, Shadow and Omega-into G.U.N.'s good-or at least neutral-books.

It'd also serve as a reminder of just how skilled she was; and how much damage she could cause on the way out if need be.

Best of all, doing so had cost her next to nothing save a few shiny tidbits.

She might've given G.U.N. all they knew about Mobians.

But she'd hardly given them all she knew.

@generic-sonic-fan

#Rouge the Bat #Sonic #Bollywood Anti Heroine #G.U.N. #GUN Commander #ficlet #I spent all afternoon on this #fanfic #This is halfway a response to another dialogue-only ficlet-ish Measly posted a while back #Bout what a new POTUS and the GUN Commander might talk about #Daily reminder #Rouge the Bat is not to be fucked with #She's observant