#if you couldn't tell that i was that sort of person

[starless-nightz]

The look of love

note -> I am NOT ready for act 3, I don't want Arcane to end :[[[

parts -> [part one] | part two

pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader

summary -> Jinx always believed that she would end up alone, she always did. That was until you and Isha came into her life and now she finally has something—someone—worth living for.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> just fluff.

Jinx didn't believe in happy endings. Not for her, not for anyone. Sure, people in Piltover might have them—their shining golden mansions and glittering dresses made them seem like they walked out of fairy tales. But here in Zaun? Happy endings were as real as unicorns, and Jinx would sooner blow herself up than believe in that kind of nonsense.

She had convinced herself she didn't care.

That was until you came along. And then later, Isha.

————

The first time she met you Jinx didn't think much about you. You were just another face in the crowd of Zaun, another person struggling to make it through the grime and smog. She’d been trailing through the streets, looking for some scrap or bauble to turn into her next explosive creation.

And there you were, crouched in some abandond alley with your hands tangled in wires, fiddling with some broken-down device. You didn't even look up when she stopped next to you, a hand resting on her hip as she watched you.

"Hey, you planning on blowing that thing up, or is it just me?

You jumped, your head smacking against the device. Groaning, you rubbed at your scalp and turned to glare at her. "What do you want?"

Jinx tilted her head. "Ooh, feisty. I like that." She crouched next to you, her eyes darting over your work. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Nothing you'd care about."

"Try me."

You let out a sigh, but humored her. "It's a transmitter. Or it's supposed to be. Trying to fix it so I can get in touch with someone topside. Supplies down here are running thin."

She knew should've walked away. Jinx never got involved with other people's problems. It was easier this way: to keep to herself and keep the world at arm's length, to keep her heart safe, she couldn't handle loosing anyone else.

But something about you made her want to stay, something about you made her want to get to know you better, to open up her heart to you.

"Supplies, huh? Tell you what," she said, standing and shouldering her gun. "You make that thing work, and I'll make sure nobody messes with you until then."

You blinked at her warily but curiously. "Why?"

Jinx shrugged, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. "Call it a hunch. You seem… fun."

————

That was the start. You didn't trust her that much at first—who would? Jinx was chaos in human form, a whirling dervish of energy and bad decisions that sane people crossed the street to avoid, not to mention a wanted crimial. But she kept her word. For weeks, she stuck around your jury-rigged workshop, chasing off the more common sorts of Zaunite pests.

And against your better judgment, you began to grow accustomed—and even attached—to her.

Jinx was actually good company when she wasn't blowing things up. She had a way of making you laugh, even when the transmitter refused to cooperate. Her stories—wild and half-believed—painted in the picture of a girl who hurt more often than she let on.

One night, with the both of you sitting on the rooftop of a crumbling building, she turned to you, her usual manic grin replaced by something softer.

"Why're you still here, anyway?" she asked. "Zaun's a dump. You could've gone topside ages ago."

You fumbled for words, gazing fixedly out across the glowing neon lights of the skyline. "Zaun's home," you said finally. "It's messy, yeah, but… it's mine. People up there wouldn't understand."

For once, Jinx didn't have a snappy comeback. She just nodded, the understanding in her eyes making your chest tighten.

————

Then came Isha.

Jinx had always been good at finding trouble, and it just so happens that a little girl fell on top of her while running away from bad men.

Jinx protected her, of course, the guys weren't even a match to her so it was incredibly easy. By the time the dust settled, the little girl was staring at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

"Yep, that's me." Jinx said as the two looked at the wanted posters of her, "You ever need to curse a sibling or a family or a society... my card." she said as she started walking away.

The little girl immediately followed her, trying her best to catch uo with her, her little eyes filled with amazement.

Soon Jinx was at your workshop with the little girl trailing behind her. You immediately noticed the two, raising your eyebrow as you glance between Jinx and the girl.

"She yours?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jinx shrugged. "I dunno. She just kinda started following meu."

You sigh, looking at the little girl then at Jinx. "Well, she's staying. She'll be safer with us."

Jinx didn't argue.

————

Months passed. The three of you became an odd little family, bound together by circumstance and something deeper that none of you could quite name.

You and Jinx spent your days scavenging and fixing whatever you could get your hands on, while Isha stood watch, her quiet presence a constant comfort, sometimes she would even help you two.

For the first time in a long while, Jinx felt something close to peace.

She would never admit to it, not even to herself, but she began to look forward to the moments when you'd smile at her, your laughter filling up the empty spaces in her mind. She loved the way Isha would hold onto her, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone anymore.

And then there was the way you looked at her.

Jinx had seen a lot of things in her life, but she'd never seen anyone look at her the way you did. Like she was more than just a ticking time bomb. Like she was worth something.

It scared her.

But it also made her want to be better. For you.

————

It was one of those nights when the city weighed heavier than usual. You were tinkering with a new device that aimed to channel Zaun's toxic air into something breathable. Jinx sat beside you, mimicking your actions but with one of her bombs instead as Isha layed her head in Jinxs lap sound asleep.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked her, looking up to look at her.

Jinx froze, her fingers mid-twist. "What, like… Zaun?"

You nodded, not looking at her. "Yeah, starting over somewhere else. Somewhere quiet."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say. The idea of leaving Zaun had never crossed her mind. This place was her hell, but it was also her home.

But then she looked at you, at the way the dim light caught the curve of your face, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there could be something more.

"I dunno," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual. "Maybe."

You turned to her, your expression soft but searching. "If you ever wanted to… I'd go with you, Isha would too."

Jinx's heart stuttered in her chest. She looked away, trying to mask the way her cheeks flushed. She looked down at Ishas sleeping form, her hands playing with the young girls fluffy hair.

"Yeah, well," she muttered, "don't go making promises you can't keep, alright?"

But the way you smiled at her made her wonder if you meant it.

————

The world didn't change overnight. It never does. But for Jinx, it didn't need to.

She had you. She had Isha.

And for the first time in her life, she thought that might just be enough.

Because when she looked at you, she saw something she never thought she'd have.

Home.

And that was worth living for.

[multipleoccupancy]

He nodded his confirmation that Violet or Mauve had indeed broken the nurses' nose. It was a strange pride and worry thinking that she was indeed perhaps too brave. "I worry what she will get herself into." After her stint with the Cowboy she had come back more aware and skilled then even himself but she still didn't understand the psychological cost, that horrible toll that she should not have been paying yet. "I don't think there's anything that will scare her off of this life." He let out a low and worry filled breath, he'd suffered because of Delta Green, he understood just how much only that night but what would they do to Violet?

"You're still cool," Theo insisted, "if she knew the sorts you had to handle and put back into line, she'd see you were the coolest person in The Program." He managed a small flash of a smile but it couldn't stick. His eyes drifting back to the orchid again as he thought about how cruel it had all been in the past, Samantha was much better, agents were more fortunate than they truly understood. With his failure to stand, Theo pulled the blanket over the back of his shoulders and stayed settled sitting up. Letting Samantha look through the file with no worries, there wasn't anything in work he wouldn't show or tell her.

"He's not going to come easy," Theo pointed out for 'Tony'. He suspected he already knew he was after him and had decided to run. He hoped into the sewers, such cultist scum belonged there. He puffed out a breath and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, more afraid of his failure in the moment before Samantha reassured him that Davidson wouldn't be able to send him back to a similar ward and that he was apparently one of the best agents, a small but welcomed compliment, believing it was through their teamwork he had lasted that long as it was.

"He's seen Violet," he realised with Davidson, it might have been decades ago and he might have had as much recollection of Violet's face as Theo had until last night but he had not been on medication nor had he gone through shock therapy, he could very easily remember her face. "He pretended that he would get her out of the ward to keep me sweet." His nose scrunched up but he was quick to open his eyes again in case he slipped back into the ward by accident, worried about reliving that threat all over again. Too raw in the moment to think about but Davidson was haunting his thoughts too, he was upset and angry.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"Well, I think it's a good thing," she replied with a little smile. There was no undoing what Sloane had done when he had exposed Violet to the paranormal. And there was no getting rid of that clingy Great Old One. Violet was going to need all the bravery she could get, and if she was just like her dad, then she was all set. Her smile widened when Killian went on to describe all the things Violet had done in the ward.

"She broke his nose?" A little chuckle left her lips, but she was clearly impressed. "I can't say that I'm surprised, considering she shot Sloane. There's not much that seems to scare her." Which of course was why Killian was so worried about his daughter. Being brave was good, being reckless was more concerning. Not to mention the fact that her craftiness and fearlessness had already piqued the interest of Delta Green.

Samantha shook her head with another chuckle. "For now, maybe. Then she'll become a teenager and think I'm the lamest person ever. If she only knew how cool I used to be." Not that Samantha wanted to get back on the field. The only thing that made her hesitate, sometimes, was Killian. She was worried about him, today more than ever, and she hated that she wasn't out there with him.

She nodded and went to retrieve the file, noticing too late that Killian had tried to stand up. She couldn't help him up, but maybe it was best he stayed on the floor for now. She picked up the file and sat back down next to him. "You've already done a great job," she praised, flipping through the file, "you've gathered a lot of valuable information."

A frown troubled her usually cheerful features. Yes she knew. She knew all the horrible, despicable things Agent Davidson had done to get Killian to join the Program. "He can't do that," she assured him, "the ward is closed, and you're one of the best agents Delta Green has. Not to mention the FBI. Besides, I'll shoot him if he even tries something like that." Samantha was not usually one to use threats of violence, but if there was one man she wouldn't hesitate to shoot, it was Agent Davidson.

[c0n-fus3d]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

[woodchipp]

Hot take: jokes about censoring Jimmy's name or on the vein of "I'm sorry you had to draw J*mmy, here let me edit it out for you :(" are not just childish, but miss the whole point of the story.

Jimmy is not some sort of unique Satanic evil. He's not worse than many, many other villains who have committed murder, rape and abuse. The whole point of his character, which is obvious from his design, is that he is a common man. His awful actions stem from human desires and fears, like the loss of a job, a life of "struggle", and the desire of control and appreciation.

Refusing to acknowledge him, censoring him, reducing him only to "that asshole who raped Anya", comes from the same desire to dehumanize criminals: the belief that there is a category of people beneath us, and only they are capable of horrible actions. Which is the opposite of what Mouthwashing, as a story, shows, which is how easily one can just... not do the right thing, and hurt others.

(also Swansea is nowhere near the badass hero the fandom hypes him as. bro was just as much of a sexist to anya as jimmy, and probably reacted to her confession by telling her to get drunk)

Strongly agree | Agree | Neutral | Disagree | Strongly disagree

I don't have much to add. Not only is reducing Jimmy to "that asshole who raped Anya" a very simplistic and surface-level reading of him as a character, it's also a reductive reading of Anya as a character. She is the kind of person who wonts to see the best in other people, she can be playful and competitive, she's attentive to the point of noticing the smallest things and problems, she has a knack for photography, she's able to deduce the mouthwash couldn't be used as a disinfectant at a glance - point is, she's so much more than what Jimmy did to her.

She's a great, tridimensional character and I like her a lot <3

As for Swansea, the man himself explicitly says Daisuke's death is the only regret he's got at the end of the day. I think people tend to forget that while he genuinely cared about Daisuke, he also didn't give a shit about anyone else.

Considering that he has to have noticed Anya's bloodied corpse while searching for disinfectant in the medbay, the fact he doesn't mention Anya in his last speech whatsoever directly implies he didn't consider her/her death important enough to mention.

[itsa-me-lily]

First of all, anyone with pets, this fic may fuck you up. It fucked me up and I wrote it. So please keep that in mind before reading this fic. This is for sure some of my own personal trauma I used to flavor this, that and my tears.

Second THE PIGS ARE OKAY IN THE END I PROMISE, spoilers I know but I felt like I needed to put that in advance

Third here is the other Military Program Spouse stuff

Fourth @nightunite I want to blame this on you but this is honestly all me

Content warning; anxiety, panicking, pet illness, discussion of pet death, concern that violence has been committed against reader, concern that reader is injured, angst

You were not a woman who needed her husband, but fuck was this a time you wanted him.

You had suspected something was up with boys. You couldn't tell if they were eating, and neither would come running to the edge of their enclosure to greet you when you came home. You tried not to panic, tried to ignore the tendrils of anxiety that wrapped around your lungs to strange them. This time was different. You weren't some kid who just graduated college and didn't have a clue. You knew better this time.

So you mixed up your CritCare, made the next available appointment with their vet, and remained determined that everything was going to be fine.

Then the wheezing started.

You had been on the cusp of sleep, your phone mocking you with the announcement of one am. You knew you needed to sleep, and yet you hadn't been able to. In the dark you could admit that you were scared. And that you had a reason to be.

You hadn't made the pull out bed, instead just planning on sleeping on the couch as is, incase something happened. You're thankful you had. It made scooping both Jiji and Tombo to abscond to the bathroom easier, the three of you sitting against the door as the hot running shower filled the tiny room with steam. It would help. It had to.

Only it didn't. Ten minutes later and they still sounded so terrible. You could feel the fear starting to churn your stomach. What if you couldn't fix it? What if you were too late again and-Your breath hitched as you tried not to spiral. It had to be different this time but-your eyes burned as you tried to ignore the urge to cry. You were so alone. Simon was out on some overnight lieutenant training, and you were alone in your bathroom with your boys who were absolutely everything to you and they sounded so sick and what if you couldn't make them, what if it was just like last time where you tried and tried and it still didn't make them any better and you lost them and-

You can't help the sob that ripped out of your chest, holding the boys a little tighter. You needed to do something. You have to do something because your boys needed you to. Sniffling, you tried to unlock your phone to check where the ER vet is, only it opens to the conversation you had with Simon.

'If anything happens call Soap.'

You were sure that Simon had probably meant if there was some sort of human emergency, when he had offered up his best friend, but you were desperate. Without really thinking about it you were dialing the Scot, breath hitching as you tried to get it under control. The endless ringing just made the anxiety wring your insides. You were about to give up when at the last second a voice came on the line, disoriented and thick with sleep.

"'ello?"

"J-Johnny?"

You hadn't meant for your voice to crack when you said his name, but just hearing another person meant that you didn't have to try this alone and the relief that crashed over you made you a little weak.

"I need help."

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, liked to think that he was a man prepared for anything. He was a solider, a demolition expert, he could make anything blow with just the right amount of faith, trust, and c-4. He was ready to fly out to whatever corner of the world needed him to kick ass.

He was not ready to hear Ghost's wife, which that was an odd sentence in and of itself, almost crying down the line as she called him in the dead of night. You hadn't even finished saying his name and Johnny was already rolling out of bed, looking for anything to throw on.

Image after terrible image flashed through his mind as he heard your plea for help. Had someone broken in? Were you hurt? One awful thought struck him of you cowering somewhere until the person determined to get revenge on Ghost found you. No. He couldn't panic. You already sounded distressed and he couldn't help you if he lost his head. Johnny was a professional.

"Hen, need you to tell me where you are."

"At-at the house-"

"Is anyone else there?"

"N-no."

Johnny would have sagged with relief if he wasn't so busy shoving his feet into his boots and already halfway out the door. Not a break in, at least as far as you were aware. It didn't rule out you being hurt though.

"Listen I'll be there in ten, don't move."

"But the boys-"

Looking back, Johnny probably should have let you finish before ending the call, but in his defense he had a twenty minute drive to cut in half, and an LT to notify. He wasn't really sure what the relationship between the two of you was, but he had been there the night Ghost had overheard some private talk about you, and Ghost hadn't taken kindly to it.

Of course, the private needed to be socked a few times given what he was saying, but still, as far as he had known his LT hadn't even wanted to be in the spousal program until Price threatened him with extra psych meetings. Then next thing Johnny new Ghost was defending your honor and asking him to keep an eye on ya when he was out of town. So whatever the hell was going on between the two of you, Johnny wasn't going to fuck it up.

Which was how he was now at the closest emergency vet visit, trying to keep you from crying further while someone looked at your guinea pigs. Even he could admit the poor guys had sounded awful in the car.

He had tried not to push, even if he had been frustrated when he had first arrived at Ghost's home. He had spent ten minutes driving like the devil was chasing him, imagining you laying there with a broken neck or worse, and you had been perfectly fine, standing there at the door talking about needing a vet.

Johnny had had half a mind to give you an earful of what constituted as a past midnight call for help, but before he had the chance to, your face had crumbled and it was over for him. He was taking you and two guinea pigs to the vets.

He watched as you picked at your cuticles, seeming to need some sort of distraction, though he couldn't tell how well it was working given the way you seemed to be staring at the floor. Just as he was about to reach out to stop you from making yourself bleed for the third time, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He was pretty sure he knew who was calling at this hour.

He didn't even bother checking the ID before answering, stepping away, not that you noticed.

"Hey LT."

"Status report MacTavish."

"Missus is okay. The wee ones got taken back. Now we're just waiting."

"...Thank you Johnny."

That was unexpected. Sure Ghost wasn't a complete bastard, but the genuine gratitude that came through the line was...shocking. He didn't know if it was for driving you while you were upset or even just being there. He wasn't sure if Ghost even knew.

"Any time Simon."

"How is-"

Johnny didn't mean to cut the man off, but a man in mint green scrubs had come out calling for last name Riley, and he didn't want to leave you alone to get whatever news was coming.

"They just called for us. Update you later."

He probably shouldn't have hung up just like that, but well he figured Ghost would appreciate the dedication to keeping you upright this evening.

It was an upper raspatory infection, is what Soap told him the vet had said. Simon didn't know how two guinea pigs who never left the house got infections like that, but according to Soap who had said according to the vet, that you had caught it early enough and a course of antibiotics would help.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he remembered getting Soap's messages, at first the worry that something had happened to you, and then the concern later when it was clear that it was the pigs.

Simon knew you had some sort of trauma in regards to them. There was no way that the level of hypervigilance you had in regards to them wasn't. He had seen it other service members before. Hell he lived it, that constant nagging feeling that if you weren't aware of everything all the time, then something was going to get you. It hadn't been until he had asked about the two wooden boxes on your nightstand that he had started to understand.

You'd had two other guinea pigs before, pets you had gotten to sooth the loneliness right after college. And of course you loved them, loved them just as much as you loved your boys now. Only you hadn't known then what to look out for with sick guinea pigs.

Simon could remember the sad look in your eyes as you had brushed your fingers along the top of one wooden urn. You had tried so hard to nurse them back to health, did everything you could, went to the vet as often as you could afford to, but you had been trying to catch up to a loosing race. Simon had pretended not to notice how you had tried not to let any tears spill over as you explained it all to him. So now, with Jiji and Tombo, he could see how that would probably send you spiraling.

Really he owed Soap at least a drink the next time they went out, even if at four in the morning the Scot had tried to brush off any gratitude from when he reported to Simon that everyone was back home where they were supposed to be. He knew he didn't say it enough, but Simon was grateful that Soap had his six, and in this case yours.

Pulling up to the driveway, Simon braced himself for whatever laid waiting for him at high noon. It was the best possible anticlimactic. You asleep on the couch clear bags under your eyes, and two little pigs poking their heads out of their hideys to see what was going on now.

Making his way over he knelt down next to the cage, watching as Jiji stuck his head out a little further to even accept the gentle brushing of Simon's finger. The antibiotics must have already been helping.

"Alright you two, it's time to get better now. You can't go breaking your mum's heart."

Edit;

Jiji and Tombo make a full recovery and are back to being their adorable menacing selves in no time. Baker thankfully never got sick because he was being quarantined due to the ringworm

Also this is incredibly emotional for me, because I loved all my boys I've had, and I'd do all over again, the medication runs, vet visits, syringe feedings, if it meant that they got better. So even if it's in this world, to have piggies get better means a lot.

[idorukiss]

Heres a sorta drabble/headcanon of sorts of how I picture MC's relationship with Sylus would devleop~ I'm not much of a writer but the brainrot is real and ive made similar ones for the other boys too!

1,035 words || You can also read it on ao3

‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙ Xavier ・ Zayne ・ Rafayel

Sylus is always prepared for any and every situation that could happen when he works, In all his time reigning over the N109 zone there hasn't been a single thing or person that hasn’t been accounted for to some degree- that was until you showed up at least. Like a black cat, you seemed to bring unexpected chaos wherever you stepped.

Of course he couldn’t help but do everything he can to keep you by his side, not only to be a formidable ally but simply cause he finds you as a whole fascinating. What kind of things will you say next? How will you get out of this situation? It’s like a game to him, one that he can’t predict or brute force the ending to.

While the two of you didn't get off on the best foot at the start, he proved himself very trusting and that he cared for your well being fairly easily. Sure he would take chances to tease you for the littlest things- even creating various situations just to see your reaction to them, but he still honestly responded to your every question and kept you as best in the loop for things as he was able.

It was strange yet nice to have someone like him by your side, someone so strong and confident that you could trust to cover your back and seemingly trusted you as much to cover his in return. It was a dynamic you weren’t that used to yet, sure you had your fellow hunters but no matter how much you fought alongside any of them you just couldn’t find yourself fully trusting in their abilities like this.

The more he got to know you the more he found himself thinking about you and the things you like. Often swiping his card first and thinking later any time your face flashed in his mind when perusing wares. He wonders how long it will take you to realize he keeps all of his estates fully stocked with presents and everything you might need in the event you show up to any of them.

“Sylus? Why are you calling me so early??” “Check your door kitten, you should have a package waiting for you” “Don't tell me its another gun, I keep telling you I can't use these outside of the N109 zone” he chuckles deeply “Well I could get you a gun too if you really want one. But no, it's something different this time” Curiously you grab the box and start to open it “...A teddy bear?” “Do you not like it? I figured it could add to your growing plush collection.” You let out a small giggle “That's so sweet of you. But you didn't have to send it to me right away, you could've left it in my room for the next time I came by like usual.” his voice is soft, almost whispering into your ear “I couldn't wait to give it to you is all. Wont you accept my gift?” Your heart pounds “I love it, thank you. Ill be sure to sleep with it every night!” your face is beaming, he cant see it through the phone but he can surely hear it in your voice.

Any time you find yourself without missions long enough to justify the trip, you spend it in the N109 zone with him. You told yourself at first it was just to keep an eye on him and see if you can catch any weaknesses, but you were secretly excited to be spending time with him even if it was just sitting in content silence together while he worked. And despite his unchanging face, Sylus might’ve looked forward to each of your visits even more than you.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary to accompany him to various events and gatherings, and it was surely strictly for business at first. Now though? It’s hard to tell. Not that you mind either way, it just felt nice to have his arm around you and being doted on throughout the night. When people inquired about who you were, he would usually refer to you as his woman in a more joking way at first, but your heart couldn't help but flip the first time he said it more genuinely. While looking right at you with a smile.

One very late night after attending a party, you couldn't help but doze off in the car on the way back to his place. It was much later in the night than you are typically used to, you don’t know how he can function at this time of night most days. You can’t help but let your mind wander and picture what day to day life with him would be like if you just never went back home.- If you stayed by his side for the rest of time.

He gently carries you inside, but instead of going all of the way to your dedicated room he brings you with him into his. There's no nefarious plans, he just simply wants to have you by his side longer and has wished to wake up to your face for far too long. A faint hum stirs you from your dreams as you are being gently placed onto the comfort of his mattress. A small kiss pressed to the top of your head as the blankets pulled over you before he quietly climbs in beside you.

Did you even wake up in the first place? Even if it was still a dream it meant everything to you, and you reach an arm out pulling yourself close to him and nuzzling into his side. Your eyes flutter closed once more enjoying his warmth as he quietly chuckles to himself and wraps an arm around you in return, falling into a blissful sleep of his own. Neither of you would give up this moment for the world, you were meant to be in each other’s arms just like this for eternity.

He would kill for you, and you would live for him. Nothing anyone could do would predict your love for one another, and you'll continue to defy fate to be with him

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Sweet Tooth (Joe Goldberg x gn reader x Love Quinn)

Summary: you're a big fan of the bakery, but Joe and Love are after something sweeter- you

Warnings: obsessive behavior from Love and Joe but that's about it

A/N: my mom made me a carrot cake recently and it inspired me to write this

Everyday you entered A Fresh Tart right after lunch, needing a little something to satiate your sweet tooth before heading back to work. Sometimes it was a cake, sometimes it was a cookie, sometimes a pie, but it was always delicious.

Love quickly caught on to your routine, always making sure she was free to assist you whenever you came in. If another customer needed help, they were just going to have to wait, because you were much more important.

The bell chimed above the door to signal that you'd arrived, prompting her to smooth out the front of her apron before putting on a bright smile. "Hey! I was wondering when you were going to come in."

"I had a meeting that ran a little late, so my lunch hour got pushed back some," you replied with a smile that mirrored hers. The unfortunate bags under your eyes didn't escape her, a sure sign that you were overworking yourself, but the faint dimples that formed on your cheeks quickly diverted her attention. How cute.

"Well, you're here now. So, what can I get for you?"

While you mulled over what kind of confection you wanted for the day, Joe peeked his head out from the back. So that's the person Love always raved about coming in just after noon. You were cute, he couldn't deny that.

"If you're having some trouble making a decision, why don't you try both and see which one you like better?" He heard his wife offer when you clearly became stuck on choosing between two different sweet treats.

"Oh, I can't do that," you began to protest before Love waved her hand dismissively at your words.

"Nonsense! It's my bakery, and I say you can have a sample if you wish," she insisted while cutting a small sliver of cake from the one in the glass display case before grabbing the second pastry you'd been eyeing, placing them both in a paper to go box. "Try both, and tomorrow you when you come in you can tell me which one you liked better."

"That's awfully kind of you. Are you sure I don't owe you anything?" You asked as she slid the box across the counter, already starting to pull out your wallet.

"Of course not! It's on the house."

Despite her words of reassurance and warm smile, you still felt as though she deserved something in return, so you took out a five dollar bill and stuck it in the tip jar. "I'll be back tomorrow at my usual time."

Her eyes twinkled with admiration at the small act of kindness. You were so much sweeter than any of the things she baked, that much was certain. "See you then."

Joe came out from the back as she was watching you leave, slightly amused at the exchange that just happened. Before he could speak, however, she beat him to it.

"I want them."

It wasn't a suggestion or a request, it was a demand, one that wasn't left open for any arguments. Love wanted you, and what she wanted she got. All she needed to do was get him on board, which shouldn't be too hard given just how irresistible you were.

The next day when you came in, Love wasn't there, having taken Henry to a doctor's appointment for a check-up, which meant the she'd left Joe in charge.

"Oh, hey," you greeted in a friendly manner despite never having met him before. "You must be Joe, right? Love told me that she ran the place with her husband."

Immediately he knew why she wanted you so much. Everything about you just screamed perfect, there was no doubt about that. "Uh, yeah, hi. She told me you were having some sort of difficulty choosing between two items yesterday," he casually mentioned, wanting you to think their marriage was much smoother than it really was. They couldn't lure you in successfully if all you saw were their problems.

"I did, you're right," you replied with a soft laugh, one that made his heart leap forward in his chest. God, no wonder Love always dropped everything just so she could see you whenever you came in. He suspected the only reason she'd offered to take Henry today was so he could officially meet you and become just as obsessed with you as she was.

"And were you able to make a decision?" He was curious about you already, curious about your personal taste, your likes and dislikes. He needed to know it all.

"Well, they were both amazing as usual, but I think I'm going to have to go with the cake. Everything about it was delicious, especially the icing," you fondly reminisced, almost beginning to salivate at the thought alone.

"Sure thing," he said while grabbing a knife to cut you a slice, unable to stop himself from thinking about just how sweet your lips must taste after every trip you made to the bakery. He'd have to try a piece of the cake himself a little later so he could imagine it properly.

Your eyes were wide with giddy delight as you observed his every move, clearly excited to be able to eat the cake when you got the chance. You were just about to pull out your wallet when he held up his hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it. Love told me to tell you it's on the house."

"You know, one of these days you're really going to have to let me repay you somehow," you commented while dropping aother five dollar bill into the tip jar, just like you did last time.

Joe was already thinking of ways for you to repay the both of them, but they were far too lewd for him to say out loud. "You have a nice day," was his response instead, giving you a small wave as you left.

Damn it, he was hooked. There was no way he could refuse Love's order, because now he wanted the exact same thing she did: you.

And they were going to have you, one way or the other, no matter what it took.

End notes: I loved writing this and I'd totally be up to making a part two if anyone wanted it <3

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @samcvrpenters @bleachxbunny

[soberstardom]

JEALOUSY? — デスノート

𓉸ྀི — yagami LIGHT, lawliet L, amane MISA, touta MATSUDA, mihael KEEL (MELLO), jeevas MAIL (MATT), mikami TERU.

𖦹 — N/A

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — fem!reader, jealousy, some mentions of killing, (semi-romanticized) possessive men + women.

౨ৎ — this took way longer than it should've. i apologize deeply. also, i do not write for nate river (near) as i'm not the biggest fan of his general character, personally.

YAGAMI LIGHT — (夜神 月 ライト)

> 私は想像します — he'd be manipulative . . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — ah, yes, light yagami. where do i start?

꩜ .ᐟ — this manipulative god of the new world would do exactly as his name implies. manipulate.

꩜ .ᐟ — he would most likely coerce you into giving him the individuals name and other personal details.

꩜ .ᐟ — later on, however, he would hold this against you. but, not in a 'blackmail', sort of way, no.

꩜ .ᐟ — he would use it as leverage to shut down any more ideas forming in your pretty little mind.

꩜ .ᐟ — what i mean by that is, he would use that and turn it against you by saying you're such a good girl for giving that said information to your lord. he would say that he loves you and that he only gave him a heart attack, nothing more.

꩜ .ᐟ — he would end it off by saying that you are his. his goddess. his lover. his servant. and nothing will change that.

LAWLIET L — (エル・ローライト)

> 私は想像します — he'd be logical . . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — now, i personally believe that L is not the type to get jealous.

꩜ .ᐟ — he genuinely trusts you, and doesn't believe that you'd commit adultery. especially towards him.

꩜ .ᐟ — however, we're only human and as a result, we have our moments.

꩜ .ᐟ — L, if he felt jealous, would be either very broad and upfront, or very doubtful and unsure.

꩜ .ᐟ — i say this because L is a very smart and straightforward man who has no shame in voicing his thoughts.

꩜ .ᐟ — but, since you're his first relationship, he has less knowledge in this field and that could make him feel insecure.

꩜ .ᐟ — but, regardless of that, you discover his feelings eventually and comfort him with loving words and reassurance.

꩜ .ᐟ — you two ate strawberry cake together afterwards.

AMANE MISA — (弥 海砂)

> 私は想像します — she would be clingy . . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — misa would definitely be whiny and clingy, demanding your attention.

꩜ .ᐟ — she would never let it go and would probably be still asking about the same individual a week after that occurrence happened.

꩜ .ᐟ — she would be asking who they were, why did they approach you, do you like them more than her, do you like them at all, etc.

꩜ .ᐟ — she would try and buy you things and take you put on more extravagant dates to try and make sure you know she's better.

꩜ .ᐟ — she also did that to try and soothe her paranoia.

꩜ .ᐟ — but, she couldn't stop thinking about it, and eventually started ranting about it more.

꩜ .ᐟ — due to her eyes, she threatened to kill them if you ever converse with them again.

꩜ .ᐟ — she's a handful, but you love her, don't you?

TOUTA MATSUDA — (松田 桃太)

> 私は想像します — he would be self-critical . . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — now, matsuda already isn't confident in his abilities due to the amount of criticism he already gets from his team. (that's deserved, lol.)

꩜ .ᐟ — and seeing you, his gorgeous girlfriend, talking with one of the higher ranking members is yet another blow to his self-esteem.

꩜ .ᐟ — he wouldn't voice it right away, choosing to sulk instead.

꩜ .ᐟ — you didn't think much of it at first. however, once his mini pout phase didn't go away, you began to worry.

꩜ .ᐟ — after a while of 'what's wrong matsu?' and 'its nothing y/n!', he finally gave in.

꩜ .ᐟ — he told you how it made him feel when you spoke to the other men and apologized in the case that he seemed immature, but of course you didn't mind.

꩜ .ᐟ — you two sorted it out maturely and went to sleep soon after.

KEEL MIHAEL (MELLO) — (ミハエル・ケール) + (メロ)

> 私は想像します — he would be territorial . . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — i'm sure you're not surprised, considering mello's bold, aggressive personality.

꩜ .ᐟ — he isn't scared to tell people what belongs to him. that goes for you too, since you do belong to him.

꩜ .ᐟ — whenever he sees someone hitting on you, he goes off. and i mean, OFF.

꩜ .ᐟ — he yells at the person and will definitely land some punches while practically screaming "DON'T YOU HEAR ME?! SHES MINE!" at the guy while you're trying to pull him off.

꩜ .ᐟ — once he was done, he would give you a kiss while whispering 'mine.' and he would quickly drag you away with a iron grip on your wrist.

꩜ .ᐟ — once you got home, you two were cuddling in bed all day while he kept on reminding you that you are his. <3

JEEVAS MAIL (MATT) — (マイル=ジーヴァス) + (マット)

> 私は想像します — he'd play it off . . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — matt is a member in mello's gang that's known for being cocky and overconfident.

꩜ .ᐟ — due to that, he doesn't get jealous often. well, that and because he trusts you and doesn't see the need.

꩜ .ᐟ — BUT, on the off chance he does get jealous, it could go one of two ways.

꩜ .ᐟ — one, he plays it off with a smirk and a puff of his cigarette, or two, he just mocks the person straight to their face. with no regrets, may i add.

꩜ .ᐟ — he earns a smack in the back of the head, for that.

꩜ .ᐟ — but don't get your hopes up. he's not going to admit he was ever jealous. (not that he needs to. it's obvious, lol.)

MIKAMI TERU — (魅上 照)

> 私は想像します — he would be aggravated. . . !

꩜ .ᐟ — now, mikami is a man of order and structure. he enjoys schedules and planning. he looks forward to the same things each day.

꩜ .ᐟ — however, this criminal defense lawyer can't help but feel the slightest bit of aggravation when he sees this, nobody, approaching his partner.

꩜ .ᐟ — of course, the calms himself down since x-kira can blow his cover, can he?

꩜ .ᐟ — so he let you have that little interaction with them, and continued on with your guys' day not showing much acknowledgement towards what happened.

꩜ .ᐟ — but once you guys got home and he proceeded to his office, we all know what he did.

꩜ .ᐟ — delete, delete, delete.

— @soberstardom 2024. — please don't repost or translate.

[poppadom0912]

Congrats on 1k!

🍨 Taste -Sabrina Carpenter

With Adam Ruzek or Kelly Severide please!!

A/N: I chose Adam, hope you don't mind. I also mean no hate to him at all, he just made this most sense. Thank you so much for ordering. I've written this after one of the most tiring weeks of my life so I hope this is up to standards. Enjoy!!

🍨🍨🍨🍨🍨

i heard your back together and if that's true

It had been two months since your break up and you'd been dealing with it better than you had been expecting. You weren't crying constantly and your moping lasted no longer than two weeks.

But just because you were fully healed and over your ex boyfriend didn't mean that you didn't feel some sort of way when you found out he had already moved on with someone else.

And this just wasn't any someone, it was his ex girlfriend, the one he was dating before you, the one he told you to never worry about.

You could only scoff when you saw them together at your local café, your sister holding back her laughter when she caught them first.

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you

There was a sick little part of you that had you thinking that, maybe this new relationship was exactly the revenge you needed on him.

You two had been together for nearly three years, being together for such a long period of time that everyone thought a proposal was imminent.

You had done so much together, had accomplished so many milestones together. Without a doubt, you left a significant mark on him and his life that he could never erase.

And you couldn't help but think that maybe you still impacted his life because certain habits of his were clearly influenced by you.

When they were together out and about, they were doing the things you both used to do. There was no doubt that you were an unwilling third person in their relationship.

if you want forever, and i bet you do

He mentioned it briefly before when you first started dating that one of the reasons he broke it off was because she wanted to get married and he just wasn't ready for that yet.

It seems that even several years later, some things never changed.

And you knew exactly how she felt - to be so deeply in love with a single man that its impossible to ask you not to imagine the rest of your life together.

just know you'll taste me too

You couldn't help but smirk at the way Adam's eyes lingered on your table as they were leaving, his girl clearly noticing as her brows furrowed before huffing and dramatically pulling him into a passionate kiss.

His eyes fluttered closed but hers remained firmly on you.

You continued to smile, waving at her with your fingers before sipping your coffee, your sister now openly cackling.

Her response was to angrily stomp out, her hand clawing his bicep as she dragged him outside.

Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

You watched from afar as time passed, their relationship developing and blossoming but, your 'presence' weighed heavy.

Every time they kissed, whether it be a quick peck or a long make out session in 'private', she always came out unsatisfied, conflict written all over her face.

Your satisfaction only grew. After the break up, you were now thriving but the same couldn't be said for the two of them.

And every time you breathe his air just know I was already there

You couldn't help but think, indulgently, if there was still traces of you left behind. Luckily for you, the tells were very telling.

Adam still using your portable coffee mug, the Lego figure on his keys, the shirts you gifted him still in rotation and the list goes on.

They were living together at this point, and you had no doubt that wherever she went in his apartment, pieces of you were most likely still laying around, forever taunting her.

You can have him if you like. I've been there, done that once or twice

You couldn't understand her obsession.

At first, you somewhat got it. Even you were like that a little bit at the beginning of your relationship, contemplating on his ex due to your insecurities.

But now, this was slightly worrying. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from feeling a little bit of pride.

If you could confront her somehow, reassure her girl-to-girl that she could have him. You were happy for her to take him off your hands, then you would, one hundred percent, take up the opportunity.

But you enjoyed being one her mind 24/7. It made you feel ways that Adam never had in all the three years you two were together.

You had been with him for more than long enough and life now was better than ever. If she wanted him that badly, then she could have him, no words needed.

And singin' 'bout it don't mean I care. Yeah, I know I've been known to share

One year after Adam and his new girl getting together, you sat in Molly's with someone new too.

It had only been two months, this was all fairly new but you had some hope that this could be good. You were excited about what your future together could look like, the butterflies in your stomach being very much missed.

Mumbling a quick thanks under your breath, you pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek, your giddy smile hidden by the glass rim as he looked at you in amusement but a soft look in his eyes and the warmest smile.

You could feel both pairs of eyes trained onto you as he sat down next to you, his arm going around the back of your chair, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder.

"Everything okay?" He asked, noticing you zoning out slightly.

You hummed, softly smiling up at who you hoped would be your boyfriend.

"Yes." You nodded, this man being the only important person as the other two faded into the background. "Everything's perfect."

Jay smiled, pressing a longing kiss on your temple, making you feel all warm and gooey on the inside before resuming his conversation with his brother.

Sipping your wine, all you could feel was the tingling Jay left behind on your lips. All you could taste was him.

[usuallydyinginside]

"No One Mourns the Wicked" is about Glinda, not Elphaba

Okay, but hear me out. Wicked songs are so good at saying one thing and meaning something entirely different once you have more context. For instance, "I'm Not That Girl" is Elphaba singing about Glinda initially, then in Act 2 flips to Glinda singing about Elphaba. Because it turns out, Elphaba IS that girl and Glinda is not. When we meet the Wizard, he sings about how he always wanted to be a father. When you get to Act 2, you get the sad little reprise in the background music as he realizes that WHOOPS, he was one and he destroyed his only kid. "Defying Gravity" starts with "I hope you're happy" in the sarcastic sense and ends with them both using the same phrase to genuinely wish one another well.

"Thank Goodness" is set up as a cheerful engagement song where Glinda genuinely means "thank goodness for how great my life is" and ends in a place where she's insisting that she IS happy even as she realizes her engagement is a sham, her best friend is gone, and she's left with the Wizard and Madame M, who she doesn't even like.

You get the picture.

Basically, the whole musical is about subverting what you expect, starting with the base premise of "what if the Wicked Witch was the hero of the story" and digging in from there.

Honestly, I'd never paid much attention to the first song. It's a good opener, sets things up well, but it has some big competition with later songs. However, in the movie the staging and camera choices made me really notice it for the first time. Because you know what? Someone DID pay attention to that song, and you can really really tell.

For those who need a refresher, the lyrics to the chorus Glinda sings are: And Goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked die alone It just shows when you're Wicked You're left only On your own I was always so busy noticing Glinda's grief over thinking Elphaba was genuinely dead that I failed to notice Glinda's grief over her OWN fate. The movie did such a good job with this because every time we get to the pink lines about being alone, Glinda IS alone. She is standing apart from the crowd who adores her. Standing above them. Standing at the center of a bunch of people yet still, isolated.

Because in the end, we know that Elphaba DIDN'T die alone. We know she wasn't on her own. We know her life WASN'T lonely ultimately. She had her flying monkey and animal friends. She had Fiyero.

And who does Glinda have?

Everyone, but realistically, no one. She is an ideal, not a person to most of Oz, just as much as Elphaba has become the token scapegoat. Where Elphaba is the "Wicked Witch," Glinda is "Glinda the Good Witch" - she is literally supposed to be the embodiment of goodness.

And what does Glinda have at the end of this whole thing (as of this song at least)? A disastrous end to her engagement, the death of her best friend, a sorceress who has hated her, demeaned her, and dismissed her from the start, and a con man who is also just a symbol more than a person.

I think it really hit me when Glinda throws the fire on the giant effigy of Elphaba. Ariana's acting was SO good there, because I'd expected us to see that private moment of horror or regret. What I didn't expect was the sort of determined and almost angry glare at the effigy.

But it makes sense. At this point, Glinda has realized that she lost everything and everyone she actually cared about.

As she so aptly puts it in "Thank Goodness"...

Though it is, I admit The tiniest bit Unlike I anticipated. But I couldn't be happier, Simply couldn't be happier, Well, not "simply" 'Cause getting your dreams It's strange, but it seems A little, well, complicated.

There's a kind of a sort of cost. There's a couple of things get lost. There are bridges you cross You didn't know you crossed Until you've crossed!

And if that joy, that thrill Doesn't thrill like you think it will Still-- With this perfect finale, The cheers and the ballyhoo! Who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, Because happy is what happens When all your dreams come true.

Well, isn't it?

Happy is what happens when you're dreams come true.

It's not Elphaba's fault that Glinda has ended up this way. Glinda chose it every step of the way. Yet, if Glinda had never met Elphaba, (if she'd never known her, you could say), she might have stayed shallow and vain. She might never have been challenged to look deeper and realize how empty it all felt.

So as Glinda sings "No One Mourns the Wicked," she realizes that even if the Munchkins are singing about the "Wicked Witch," she's not.

She's singing about herself.

The one who traded her morals, friendship, and love for a taste of the admiration and power over those who don't really know her. The one who was so worried about being likable that she herself doesn't like who she's become.

Even after she makes things better for Oz and herself by sending the wizard away and getting rid of Madame M, it just leaves Glinda by herself as the leader and source of goodness in Oz. It leaves her on a pedestal she can never step off of.

It leaves her lonely.

Entirely alone.

[the-thieves-gambit]

Our usual. Those words bothered her in a way she couldn't identify, maybe because there was a usual. A routine of sorts that had developed between the two. She would have to correct that, as much as she was kidding about finding him a girlfriend while he was gone, she'd have to consider doing it to make sure that would break this up. He wouldn't be able to hang out around her office all the time if she set him up with someone else to occupy his time with. Though for some reason, it made her a bit sad that he wouldn't be around as much once she did.

Sipping from her coffee, she noticed the way he bit his lip and raised a questioning eyebrow. What was so funny? but she dared not ask glad that he had changed the topic to his case. "Hmm. I'm sure with you they'll have their shit solved in no time. Just need someone that knows what they're doing. Thanks," she made a sound between a clicking of her teeth and a sigh as she thought about it. "I don't do divorce things, never have but I don't know. I felt bad when she came to me, I was her last resort. He's a cop and making her life hell," shrugging she put her mug down" Time to make his one." Thinking it over for a moment, she put the cinnamon sugar back in the cupboard and finished off the coffee as it was. "Hmm," was the respond she gave as she listened to him tell her about his allergy. Genetic. Well that sucked.

"Please don't." She held her hand up. She loved Dolly, the thought of her barking until she ate made her anxious. "I do eat," she began to say a bit faster than usual as she came up with a lie. Words spilling faster than they ever had before out of her. "I just haven't gone grocery shopping. I usually have a lot of food around, fruit too, this case just has taken a lot of my attention right now. Please, don't have her do that. I'll be eating a lot when she's here after this disposition I'm going out for groceries." Hoping that it would be enough to have him drop the matter.

"Oh, thanks." The words were said with surprise. Someone had to find comfort in it. There were times when it couldn't lull her to sleep. When it would bring the nightmares on instead of help. "You didn't have to do that but thanks. I'm glad you were able to get comfortable."

There he went again, we. That is where we're gonna go. He was so sure in including her,like it was a guarantee that it was happening and she would be a part of it. "It sounds lovely." She didn't want to add that it would be a shame that she wouldn't see it, seeing as when he got back, she'd have him occupied with a shiny new person when he returned. That was neither here nor there, no one would miss her once she got her replacement hired and the office fully up and running. She would once again be that person someone vaguely remembered once. "Wildfire," she repeated with a smile. "Now that sounds like a horse that would definitely kick me."

As much as she thought about getting rid of him from her life, when it was time for them to part now she felt the odd sensation of missing him already. Shaking it off, she nodded. "Great, I'll be waiting. And you have my word," she held up three fingers on one hand, despite never having been a scout. "I'll walk you out, gotta unlock the door for the Holden's anyway." Though he had tucked one side in, she couldn't help it, just like last night, and reached over and tucked the other side in too. "There, even. Better." Holding the door open for him, she gave him a small smile. "Have a safe trip and again thanks for letting me borrow Dolly for the week. I'll watch over her well. Promise. "

As if to give her confirmation he merely nodded his head and chuckled. "Gotta choose your words wisely around me. I find loopholes." Wally kid just enjoying his time with her in her kitchen. "Gotta admit this is quite a change from our usual. I actually like it." Shaking his head he didn't want to inconvenience her. "No, it's okay. Poptart is fine. Though the fact you know I like toast and jelly is freaking me out a bit. Not in a bad way." he added not wanting to make her feel like he was mad or anything. "It's usually me who notices things. I'm glad you didn't say peanut butter and jelly." His hand did the kaput gesture and laughed to himself.

He nodded as he kept chewing and smiled biting down on his lip to keep from laughing. She had the cutest pair of bunny teeth and that made him want to scream. But didn't he kept his composure. "Right? I can only imagine what type of chaos I'll be walking into. Though maybe it won't be that bad. Case hasn't officially closed so maybe I can offer up help after all." Cheating cases made him feel queasy. Never were truly easy so he hoped for her sake that this one would be a breeze. "I hope that it won't get dragged out into court. I know sometimes it's not so black and white but they wouldn't have come to you if they didn't have confidence you could get this case done and over with without the dragged on notions."

There she went again taking him by surprise knowing something so deeply personal that he hadn't noticed she even knew it. "Mhmm. That would be deathly allergic. But I do carry my epipen so if I happened to ingest some I'd be okay. If I didn't have it then we'd be screwed. Don't worry you can put it in your coffee." Just for good measure he scooted over a bit to be a safe distance from it and smiled going back to his poptart. "Unfortunately I got my grandfather's allergy. Skipped my mom but trickled down to us. Mine is the most severe though. My sisters just get itchy."

"You don't eat?" His shock was audible the more he thought about it and shook his head. "I'll have to tell Dolly to come bark at you at breakfast and lunch and dinner so you can have your meals." He'd do that too no lie. Dolly was easily trainable since she was a former K9 in training.

He smiled that smile that told her he was happy she slept well. "I'm glad. Weird thing. I never can sleep in a new place. Can never get comfortable but last night was different. Your bed is heaven though just saying that." Then remember he had made the bed. "Oh that reminds me I made your bed. I didn't want to leave like that and I tucked the ends underneath the mattress." Wally was neat and organized most times and that did go down to the way he made his own bed.

"They do," he laughed thinking the change in topic was peculiar. "They can never sit still. It was a passion project when we all moved to the islands. My sisters loved horses and Di also grew up riding them so Andy went and bought the land and built the ranch ground up." Normally he was the one asking the left field questions. "They have a ranch actually. That is where we're gonna go. It's in Kaneohe. Which is about 2 hours and change from Lahaina to Kaneohe. So, we don't go often only if it's one of the kids birthdays or when we want to make it a weekend thing. Sometimes I go to keep an eye on things. Their ranch hands keep it running. They stay on property. Andy built them a giant house so they didn't need to go back and forth." One thing was certain, they were paid fairly and treated like family. "You'll get to meet them when we go after I come back from LA. Finally will get to meet Wildfire's filly. She's one."

He pulled his hair behind his ear and shot her a grin. "Good luck." As she said that his phone dinged telling him he was to be headed to the air field. "Actually, perfect timing. I'm gonna head off. I got Jamie to agree to bring Dolly to you before dinner and bedtime so take care of my furry best friend. Enjoy your week and I'll see you for adventure week." His grin was bright as he hopped off the counter and landed on his feet.

[miametropolis]

My condolences for the containment breach I get how having thousands of ppl say the same joke over and over in the notes of your genuine analysis post can get annoying 😭 😭😭😭 I’m extremely down to hear more about the differences between the ninth and tenth doctors if you have any other insights you want to share though!!! I’ve been turning your post over and over in my brain like a rotisserie chicken ever since I read it it’s so good

omg thank you for your condolences...it really is the containment breach of all time...let me think!! I have a MAJOR tenth doctor video essay I may or may not make so here are the cliff notes:

-To begin. Anne Carson wrote that to live beyond the end of your myth is a perilous thing.

-in many ways, the 10th Doctor is cursed from his inception b/c he is born at the end of the Doctor and Rose's romantic arc (from a certain point of view) AND YET he is born sheerly out of love for her / to love her

-(we all know the fanon--or is it canon?--idea that Ten's face was subconciously selected to be one that Rose would like, and he's gone for her from the beginning...hello, The Christmas Invasion.)

-all that said, by the time The Parting of the Ways occurs, Rose and Nine have completed a full narrative arc:

-Nine whisked Rose away from the life of boredom and sheltered drudgery she experienced on the estate; she brought life back into the eyes of a hardened war veteran/The Last of the Time Lords

-more importantly, they complete a kind of mutualistic ultimate sacrifice (in a Shakesperian sense?) wherein Rose 'becomes' the Doctor by absorbing the literal heart of the TARDIS (we don't have time to get into that) and erasing the Daleks into dust, finishing the last of the Time War AND saving the Doctor's life

-he immediately returns the favor, absorbing the energy that's destroying her with a kiss (let it be known--the ONLY kiss between the Doctor and Rose Tyler proper--neither Tentoo or Cassandra really count imo), returning her to humanity, life, and safety

-all that said, Nine dies both saving AND being saved by Rose in a kind of unrivaled (?) parity between Doctor and companion. it's perfect synthesis.

-THEN 10 is born. uh-oh.

It is here that I would like to quote Michael Kinnucan's fabulous essay 'The Gods Show Up' on Greek tragedies:

The tragic hero is complete. You can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. For an instant he is something like divine. And then he dies, because there’s nothing left to do. The center of every tragedy is the image of a human being who has already died but keeps talking, someone whose face is a mask.

I think one of the most fascinating 10 v. 9 moments is that one scene that got cut where Rose says "I miss him." and the Doctor replies "Me too."

As many people in the notes of that original post point out (god help me) 10 is ALSO born IMMEDIATELY into heartbreak--whatever vestigal version of Nine lives inside him died with the despair of losing Rose

-TEN is the man that went sauntering away. perhaps that's part of why Ten is so terrified of/resentful towards regeneration. I think he's lived precisely the worst cost of it.

-The notion of 'talking after death' and 'wearing a face that's a mask' is a existentialist take on regeneration itself--ten EPITOMIZES this tragic hero archetype, esp. after Doomsday (literally! Doomsday!!)

-during his life, I wonder if Nine already considers himself lost in a sense? He's lived past the Time War, past the destruction of everything, and he's also the first NuWho Doctor. HIS ability to indulge in love (even in mortality, given his short lifespan) is different.

-TEN on the other hand has that INCREDIBLY frightening (for him) confrontation with Sarah Jane in School Reunion--knitting him back into canon continuum of Doctor Who, stitching him to the myth of The Doctor that has to live on and on and on in perpetuity--and seems VERY haunted by (im)mortality

-How much time does Ten spend running from Jack? A human being who CAN follow him to the end of time? Ten can't decide if he wants to be mortal or immortal, human or Time Lord. Think of the way he acts with Martha, with Wilf, with Donna. He is totally frozen inside of the space of his seasons. He has time paralysis (fatal, for a Time Lord)

-he is the first doctor that we see reallllly try to stave off regeneration

-That's why there's a certain frantic escapism to his adventures with Rose in S2--he knows, more than she does, that they are hurtling toward's disaster.

-he can't love Rose in a consumate way, even if he wanted to (he wants to) b/c he's trapped inside of his myth. he's like sisyphus. or that guy getting his liver ripped out by the eagle. Nine and Rose are lines that can cross. Ten and Rose are parallel lines. if they touch, the universe dissolves. hence why the narrative/God/Russel T. Davies had to lock her away in another universe

anways!

Ten once canonically carved a statue of Rose by hand with every inch of her body absolutely perfect, from memory, and I think that's crazy

[gingacd]

had an idea for an au thingie for tf2 guys where Soldier works in a bakery after tf2. I think he’s the sort of fellow who just puts his heart into any job he’s asked to do so he’d obviously be a great baker (and teleport so much bread)

[spotaus]

YEAHHHH!!!!!! >:D

Ancha I am SO glad you liked it because. Ough. I started writing it at like 11 at night and just. Kept going??? I was so so pumped!!!

I'm gonna try and follow where you went with the ideas, gimme a sec-

Okay so, yeah! Nightmare, at this point, views the training has his relax time! Kinda how someone can spend all their time doing work, say writing reports, and still enjoy writing stories in their free time! It still challenges him and interests him, but it's in a way with low stress. His knights can improve inch by inch now that their foundation is stable! And the training room is one of the most secure rooms in the castle, thanks to reinforcing it to withstand magic attacks!

And I really really wanted to take on idea of each of the guy's strengths! You got it perfectly so I'll try not to linger, but I kinda wanted to run off that original idea I had for the Knights knowing eachother and being in sync, but now it's more fitting to their personalities since I've gone into more depth with them! Killer has greatly influenced the others, in the way they fight and the way they act on the battlefield. It's like setting loose a feral animal on all these Knights who are Not Ready for dirty fighting. (Dust was used to diplomatic scuffles gone wrong, usually with the use of enchanted weaponry, Horror just. Did not fight prior to this. Abd Cross, as mentioned, was a muscle-memiry routine combat kinda guy!) And in the same breath, Killer learned from them too! Night might be their mentor, but Killer was committed to being a good influence on them, even if it didn't register to any of them-

A lot of that was also me trying to get a grip on how they'd behave in such a space alone with Night. Killer the most relaxed, Cross the most nervous, etc! And the little banter between them was fun!! (I also was trying to use technique I learned recently so combat reflection was a good opportunity for it, haha!)

One of my favorite bits in the beginning I think was, like you mentioned, Nightmare making sure they left training on a high note! I took the idea from your Q&A drabble actually, when u mentioned Night looking for ways to better keep hold of his knights? Yeah, he ensures to be even more vocal about what he noticed everyone doing well, just so they know! And Cross takes the praise the best visually, but he can tell the others at least seem pleased by it <3

Lastly!!! Yes, the bed-time was meant to be sorta a hint to the incoming turn of events, but it's also just meant to be a cute lil cameo too!! I think a few things never quite left his habits (like, his body getting more tired around Bedtime even though he regularly skipped sleep all together anymore) because. Y'know! Adult body still has Kid Night in there running the show! And because of the weird suspended state of his mind, it left him with odd quirks!

Okay, okay, hearing that you enjoyed the drama bit makes me SO happy, because this time I wanted to go with sonething that felt a bit more Nightmare-accurate. Night was always a quiet kid, a fawn rather than fight or flight, he kept his emotions tight to his chest because so few people cared in the first place. So, when his magic (the thing that made his moves for him, before he could freeze up or downplay or smother his feelings) Leaves? He's exhausted, and confused, and scared, and frankly out of it. He fawns again!

And the magic leaving, this time I wanted it to feel like it was in a moment of lull, no tension, no stakes (aside from a stinky Killer) and no sign for Night that anything was wrong. It all just dipped at once, and as it left his awareness it left him dizzy, disoriented, and!!!! I'm glad that you caught that he couldn't feel anything because the magic refused to work with him anymore!!! So the normal input didn't transfer to him!!! That weird lack of senses was also sort of my excuse to let the Knights start freaking out! Because idk how clear it was (intentionally not very if I did my job right lol-) but when Night's balance starts to screw up, Killer turns around. But it's Night initially who reaches out and grabs his arm, and then Killer has indirect permission to support his weight further and grab hold of him! Night subconsciously reached out to Killer, even if he didn't realize it in the moment. And ofc that's Killer being like 'oh that's not normal'.

And!!! Like in the og drabble, Dust goes on high alert immediately, but this time Cross and Horror hesitate! There's a part that Nightmare misses where Horror expresses worry and suggests he should grab the first aid and take a look, and Killer tells him no. Because Night (in that moment) is unresponsive, and Killer doesn't think Horror coukd help even if he tried. He might make it worse. And Horror tries to press his offer, before Night comes-to again to hear Killer snap at Horror to get Ccino! And like you said, Killer has no idea what's happening, but he's sure if anyone could help it would be Ccino! And in the meantime he just tries to keep Nightmare close, keep him steady. He doesn't like it one bit, but he knows he has to keep watch because Dust doesn't sense/see anyone, and Cross doesn't either as he guards the door!

And, ofc, Killer was horrified to find what was basically a babybones in his arms when all the goop left, but he was also shaken because. Well. That's the Prince from the tapestry. Night doesn't make the connection, but he'd seen images of Nightmare a few times, abd certainly images of his twin, enough to recognize that. Yeah. That's the same guy. And he can't explain it, but since Dust chimes in with magic loss, Killer makes some leaps in judgement. (Also!!! Dust isn't good with magic usually, but Nightmare's was so impressive it was always looming. The moment it was gone he spoke up. He's also OBNOXIOUSLY familiar with symptoms of magic loss. For. Obvious reasons 🙏)

Nightmare, in his fawning, couldn't decide whether the voice in his head reminding him that these Knights were kind, loyal souls was right, or if the instincts telling him to get away NOW were winning. He compromised in the firm of 'can't really move anyways so I'll sit here and be scared'.

And!!!!! I'm glad u liked Killer telling Cross to hold onto the magic! Killer's smart, and a fast thinker, and Cross was the nearest thing with any chance if keeping his king from??? Melting??? And to Cross' credit he DID grab it! He did great! (He feels awful about it after because from what *he* saw, it didn't help. It did! He just doesn't know!)

And. Ccino's piece in this was probably the part I was least certain on. Because Ccino assumed the Knights somehow set Nightmare into one of his worse episodes. Or, worse, he worried Night accidentally hurt one of the Knights and panicked. Horror was pretty vague about why he needed to hurry. And Ccino gets there and- well.

He hasn't seen that little skull in seven years, and it's got a big crack, and it's trembling, and one big eyelight is looking up at him. Nightmare was always his little brother, and yet all at once his instincts kicked back in. This was no powerful bomb waiting to be nudged just too far before exploding, not some otherworldly tyrant. This was his Nighty, somehow back to the way he was the day he protected his twin and swore into the prophecy. This was HIS Nighty.

So, for the first time in a while he drops pretenses. There's no effort to hide him away, Ccino knows well enough that trying to remove Nightmare from the Knight's vision right now would possibly get them both in hot water. So he does what he can, throws open his arms, and coddled his little brother tightly. So, so tightly. He has no idea how, or why, and obviously it's the same Night who'd spent the morning writing laws, but it was so surreal that he just had to get him close!!!!!

And Night, yeah, he just feels safe with Ccino, and irrational mind running off of a huge magic-drop? He deemed Ccino's arms a perfect place to shed some tears and then pass out-

If I had to do a follow-up it'd definitely be either a Ccino or Killer chapter following either the moment Night is free of the goop (Killer) or the moment he enters the training room (Ccino) and then the conversational aftermath! (I also think they move the whole party to Nightmare's room eventually, and somewhere along the line Dust brings up that lighter foods might help-) just lil silly details haha! But it's basically a force of nature making the Knights and Ccino agree to a pact of sorts just to agree to help Nightmare. He's still the king. He's just... young now. Again.

Okay I got a lil wild but- I'm just so so happy you enjoyed it!!! A healthy balance if shenanigans for the boys, panic for Nightmare, and an unexpected surprise for Ccino!!!!

New Age AU (The Magic Retreats)

Hi guys!!! So, I wrote this one in a fit of passion, but here's a brief take 2 on the most important chapter of the fic and the first one I posted! (In which Night becomes Tiny again :] ) As always this drabble is unedited and un-checked so uhh. Good luck!

(HI @ancha-aus , @papiliovolens , and @mutzelputz welcome back!)

   The days felt like they were growing longer again. Maybe it was the change of the seasons, or the workload ramping up again making his nights bleed into his mornings. No matter the case, Nightmare was lucky to have moments of rest from his endless piles of debts and taxes and laws and requests that were strewn all about his office. They were nice, neat, piles now, but they seemed to be an endless cycle. He'd solve one problem and it would result in a new report of catastrophe somewhere else.

   Often, he wondered whether it was that his Mother's ruling style had truly worked, or if she'd ignored it. After all, she'd been a God amongst mortals, why would she care for a few challenged livelihoods amidst her paradise?

   The sharp clash of metal on magic drew Nightmare's attention back to the present. Against all odds, he'd managed to convince Cross to start training his sword again. When Cross had first started getting lessons to properly control his magic, harnessing even whisps of Nightmare's own spells on occasion, he'd quickly neglected his physical training. Over the last few weeks, Nightmare had voiced his worry that Cross might find himself up against another foe like Dust. One who he couldn't simply control. He needed to re-learn his old battle tactics. Only then, he'd promised, they would move on to harnessing both at once.

   So, now, he was sparring against Horror in the training room. Nightmare sat off to the side on the benches, Dust and Killer on either side of him watching intently. Two of his tendrils hovered readily before him, ready to pounce to intercept any wayward attacks or truly dangerous intent, though he trusted his Knight to not put his newest comrade in any real danger. The other two tendrils lay lax behind the bench, curling comfortably beneath where his other Knights sat at his sides.

   These were the sorts of daily distractions he enjoyed. Which pulled him away from the stress of the papers and the outside world. He could focus solely on his charges and how best to help them. They helped him so often, he just wanted to return the favor.

   His eyelight followed the movements, as Horror stayed more or less right on Cross's tail. His axe swung slower than normal, and it was obvious he was taking the training seriously without giving Cross a heart-attack from the force of his normal blows. It wasn't often Nightmare allowed them to pair up precisely because of that. Horror had no magic for Cross to control, none that would help him at least. Meanwhile, Horror's brute strength could snap Cross like a twig if something were to go slightly awry.

   A swing of the axe, Cross's longsword cracking against the handle as he blocked. A push-off, sending Cross back a few steps before he swung. Missed. The axe was on him again, this time towards his side. Cross jumped over it, swung his sword. Missed again. The axe came in again, from above. A narrow block, one which forced Cross to his knee, before Horror let up.

   Horror was simply a marvel of physical combat. He hadn't been a good fighter when Nightmare met him, but he'd learned very quickly. From watching the guards, from listening to Nightmare. Though, Nightmare was almost positive Killer had actually been his biggest influence. Killer, the cockpit, single Knight at that time. He'd taken Dust under his supervision at the time, practically heading the dismantling of the crime rings Dust knew so well all on his own. Meanwhile, Nightmare was working with Horror to understand how to fix the farming situation across the kingdom. Once things settled, and Nightmare expressed interest in having Horror stick around, it was Killer who showed off in combat training. Horror spun off his feet and pushed off his hands in the way expected of a much smaller, leaner, monster. Very similar to how Killer fought when he was playing around.

   It was evidently too unfamiliar for Cross. He'd been taught formal swordplay, but here in this kingdom? That was about as useful as playing with a slingshot and trying to operate a trebuchet. It seemed similar, but it could only get one so far.

   Cross had been steadily improving, of course. Just a year or so ago, Cross had been besting all the rest of the royal guard out on the training field. But placed against Killer, the best of the best at practical combat, no holds bar? He'd fumbled. Now, Nightmare knew Cross could hold his own against his proudest Knight. That meant a lot in such a short time. Pride filled his chest at the thought, as he watched the two of them clash again and again.

   He knew his time was running short for today. He'd had Dust and Killer work on their team-building and attack him earlier on in training while Cross and Horror were warming up. As he already knew, they were chatty, but very efficient in their coordination.

   "On your left!" Killer would call out. Dust would simply duck as Killer instead vaulted over his head as though emerging from the shorter Knight's shadow, knife in hand, glowing red with energy.

   Killer's use of deceptive verbal cues was a talent he'd come up with all his own. Nightmare remembered him pestering Dust over it every dinner for a week after he'd first thought of it. Dust had seemed annoyed at first, but Nightmare could tell after the first session of them trying it out, against him? He'd been unaware, and if his magic didn't work separate from his mind on occasion, they would have gotten him in the first two minutes.

   They'd used it again earlier, and even after several years it still kept Nightmare on his toes. He figured that was why he felt tired as he watched the two locked in mock battle before him. The cognitive challenges did tend to make his socket heavy with sleep. And he hated to admit it, but he always knew about when to end their afternoon trainings, because it lined up with when his mind would start to lag. Even years later, his body still seemed to respond to the familiar draw of a long-discarded bed time.

   He'd let them exchange a few more blows, before calling it off and ushering them all off to clean up before dinner. Even if he knew only Cross and Dust would go wash up. Horror would go change out of his training gear into clean clothes, he hated to look messy at the dinner table, abd Killer would simply stick to his side like glue.

   It never was a point of complaint, he appreciated the commitment, but sometimes he really did wish he'd at least take a moment to swap clothes. Sometimes he tracked all sorts of dirt and scraps of magic out of the training room and into the halls.

   Mm. The clashing seemed to have reached a rhythm. That meant Cross had gotten familiar with Horror's movement patterns again. It never lasted long, Horror was very adaptable, but it did mean that Cross would be locked into the stalemate now, or it'd be an easy defeat for Horror. Better to call it now and send them off with a bit of praise. They never ceased to impress him, they'd all grown so much.

   "Alright, end the match." he called. It didn't take hardly a moment for the order to register after his voice carried to the two monsters.

   Cross was the first to pull away, with Horror letting his swing fall short and his Axe's momentum swing up and into the air. He caught the grip and almost immediately stuffed it back into its own holster along his back. Cross sheathed his sword, and while a bit out of breath, he still grinned triumphantly and bowed amicably to Horror. Horror returned it with a nod. Their little ritual.

   "Wonderful work today, all of you." Nightmare announced, his front two tendrils slinking back to his sides as they no longer had danger to be hyper aware of. To defend against. "Tomorrow, I want to see you two spar again, I believe you are making great leaps in progress, Cross. Dust will provide you both with terrain obstacles in the form of erratic magic attacks to simulate a more turbulent battle field and provide Horror with more opportunity to practice dodging." The suggestion seemed well-recieved, and Nightmare let his good eyelight turn to Killer, who sat grinning beside him. "Killer, you and I will be doing more endurance training for your magic."

   "Looking forward to it, my Lord," Killer replied.

   That made Nightmare chuckle a bit. Once upon a time, Killer would tense up at the premise of magic training. Then, as he grew bolder, groan at the mention. He was not proficient in the sort of magic Cross, Dust, or he himself relied on, but his preferred weapon was a knife or two summoned by his own soul. Since it was magic, Nightmare insisted he learn to better sustain and alter it rather than letting it atrophy in the wake of his extensive physical training. Now, seeing him grin lazily at the idea, not a worry weighing on his soul? It made Nightmare feel a lot more justified in making the rambunctious Knight do the more "boring" practical training.

   "If we understand what to expect for the afternoon tomorrow, then you are dismissed. I will see you all at dinner," he declared. Humor filled his chest at the warmth which rolled off his knights at the mention of food. Dinner was always cooked by Ccino, and Ccino was the best cook. Nightmare would know.

   He watched as Cross gave a little salute before he turned on his heel to begin to follow Horror's lumbering gait towards the heavy doors separating this room from the hall. The newest Knight's voice was quiet, but excitable as he started to reflect on his techniques to Horror. He always debriefed after a training.

   Beside him, Dust swung forward off the bench and landed silently, already moving to follow the other two. His body-language always seemed disgruntled, and his expression was hidden under his darkened hood, but Nightmare knew he was pleased with his work tonight. Content with what he had accomplished.

   "Cross is gettin' a lot faster." Killer's voice was calm beside him, and Nightmare followed the other's hollow gaze to where the other three were discarding their gear, hanging it up on the racks near the door where they always stored the supplies.

   Four spaces, one for each knight. Killer had gouged his name into the wooden base of his own years ago.

   "I agree." Nightmare let one of his tendrils wrap at the ground around a leg of the bench. "It helps that he is eager and willing to improve on his skills. And that he has others to lean on as he continues to learn."

   Killer's scoff quickly devolved into a laugh at the thinly veiled praise. It wasn't unusual of him to slip it into conversation. A quick, gentle nudge of praise. Acknowledgement and appreciation. Killer had heard to most of it, and Nightmare often worried he'd find it insincere.

   As far as he knew, he never did.

   "You should go put up your armor as well." Nightmare suggested, nudging at Killer's back with a tendril.

  

   "Yes, sir." Killer chimed, the sharpness of his laughter still on his tongue.

   Nightmare rose simply, and Killer pushed off the bench with a quick hop. His feet planted, and Nightmare waited for him to take a step towards where the others were before moving to follow. It felt right, to see them all in one spot. Relaxed.

   He moved to follow Killer's quick steps, only... All at once his vision seemed to double, and he halted himself. He could feel his tendrils lash out, moving to stabilize him against the floor of the training room. He still stood upright, just barely, but it seemed all his balance had left him. Instinctively, in a fit of habit, he shut his good socket and took a moment. The swaying feeling he was gripped by, even after a deep breath an counting to five, did not fade. The darkness which usually seemed to calm him only seemed to make the swaying worse. He could not tell if the motion was coming from him, or I the ground beneath him was shifting like the deck of a boat. Without his vision he couldn't orient up versus down, let alone find his stability again.

   Opening his good socket provided him with orientation, though his vision still danced and swirled. He was looking down, down towards the brick ground, from the space behind his palm. When did he place his hand to his socket? The view included his legs, which he recognized now were shaking, and his tendrils which were trying to hold him in place.

   And...

   He jolted at the contact he could see but hadn't felt in the slightest. He skull reeled up so that he could see who had touched him. One hand on his elbow. The other- when did he grab Killer's arm? When had Killer turned around to look at him? Why was Killer looking at him like that?

   It was Killer, who had ahold of him, though he couldn't feel the Knight's touch, and he couldn't tell if he was gripping the other's arm at all. Though he was, he could see it.

   His vision warped again with the quick movement. A desperate bid to look past Killer. Was there a threat? The blurry form of Dust shot past him, he thought. Horror and Cross still seemed to be by the door.

   The ceiling. Why was he looking at the ceiling? No, wait, the floor now. It grew closer, in the space between himself and Killer, as the opening for him to see it grew smaller. Then he couldn't see it at all, his vision replaced swiftly by- training gear. The leather smell invaded his senses as the rest failed him. He couldn't feel Killer, though he knew the knight was near to him. That, as far as he could tell, Killer had caught him. That he'd sunken to the ground under his own weight.

   Why?

   His socket wasn't being helpful. It seemed, from what he saw, that his tendrils were trying to melt away as they moved errantly to slap onto Killer's back or the ground beyond. Surely that wasn't right? His tendrils had never wavered. He shut his socket again, letting his skull sink into the training armor again.

   It didn't occur to him for a few moments, that he couldn't hear his knights, until he suddenly could.

   The voices were loud and grating, breaking his wobbling darkness once again as he tried to force his socket back open. What was wrong with him?

   "Horror, I said go get Ccino! Now!" Killer. He'd know that voice anywhere, though he didn't like the angry tone. Like fire spitting from his tongue seemingly right above Nightmare's skull. "This isn't some sort of test, I- I don't know what this is. It can't be good."

   Nightmare tried to reach out. Not physically, it felt he still couldn't control his limbs. No, he tried to sense. Did the others know what was wrong with him? Was the rising panic in his chest originating from his own emotions or theirs? Had... had one of them done something?

   No, it wasn't them.

   "Shit." Somewhere behind him, he heard Dust's voice hiss. "His magic levels are dropping. And fast."

   For a second, Nightmare was stunned. What did he mean his magic levels were dropping? Though, it made sense. Somewhere deep in his chest he could feel it, the swaying motion as his magic tried to peel away from his bones. He-

   "What do you-" Killer still sounded frustrated, and he too spat an expletive a moment later.

   Nightmare, for the briefest moment, thought he felt touch again against his skull. He let his blurry socket fall closed again, the vision only worsening as his magic rocked with unseen waves of revulsion.

   "Cross, try to grab his magic," Killer ordered.

   The familiar splattering of the young Night would've been comforting, if the suggestion didn't fill him with dread. Killer knew better than that. They'd agreed Cross could only touch on controlling his magic. Nothing more. It was too vast.

   "W-what! I- I shouldn't-" Cross attempted to stammer a defense, but Killer was quicker with words. Always had been.

   "Just try. Now. Hold it in place and see if it stablizes." The command was a lot more controlled than the previous one, but his tone was leaving no room for error. "When the King and Ccino are unavailable, I'm in charge. Listen to me."

   Nightmare had never heard Killer take charge in such a way before, and in his haze he might've written it off as a product of his imagination. All of this being some sort of weird hallucination. But he felt the invasive force of Cross' magic snake over his bones.

   He'd felt it before, a sort of blanket or hand-hold aimed at the ends if his tendrils which could make them twitch a bit with Cross's own will. This time he felt it creep up the length of his spine and dig unseen claws into his shoulder blades. He could feel it, just like he could now feel Killer's chin and shoulder, where his skull had been tucked. He could feel the hand supporting his back, the other his side. He felt limp as the forceful magic washed over him.

   Nightmare gagged.

   Cross's magic caught on something, like a hook finding the fish, and for a brief few moments, Nightmare felt like he had a ball of gunk in his non-existant gut. Something heavy and feral, trying to escape.

   For just a moment, he regained a breath of awareness. He felt his Knight supporting his weight, he felt the nakedness of his back where his tendrils had completely abandoned him, he felt the emotions of the three still with him. Fear. Confusion. Anger. He didn't like it much. He still couldn't move his limbs.

   And just as quickly as it was stable, the hold on the wild magic slipped away. Like the fish had broken the string.

   It flowed up, like the force of a dam finally released. Through his ribcage, past his shoulders where Cross's magic seemed to dissipate all at once, into his mouth.

   Nightmare regained some semblance of control over his body at that moment. As the magic seemed to rush towards freedom. He shoved away from Killer all at once, the chill of the stone hitting his palms heavily and his socket opening if only to watch as he lost it. That dark, thick, sticky magic that had marked him as a bad omen. That had gifted him the power to rule in place of his twin. Protect those he loved.

    It spilled to the stone before him, and he was stunned to watched that, as he heaved suddenly labored breaths, it sunk away. Disappeared. Just like that, instead of his familiar darkness, the protective shield, the instinctive defense he had grown to know, he was staring at the floor. And the space in which his wobbling arms hid under too-big sleeves, and from the cuffs escaped perfect, pearly-white bone. Bone he could never seem to reach no matter how hard he scrubbed with water and soap. Bones that seemed so frail in the torchlight.

   "My king?"

   Nightmare let his eyelight raise from the ground. It wasn't as wobbly anymore, his vision slowly coming back to normal. He still took his time trailing from the ground, to look at Killer's pants. He was on his knees, hardly an arm's length away. Then the edges of his chestplate. His arms were outstretched, hovering barely away from touching Nightmare. He shook at the closeness, but didn't dare try to move. Killer's soul was wobbling. Nightmare's boww furrowed at the sight. It was very small, but he'd always notice the little changes and moves. Though, he noticed an absence of something at the back of his skull as he stared. Something missing.

   Killer's face was last. He looked serious, his dark sockets not a new sight, but Nightmare hardly saw Killer so serious. He'd seen the look before. Usually when he'd see someone bothering Ccino. It had always been brief, quickly disguised under his patented sadistic grin. Killer just watched him now. As though he was sone glass sculpture ready to tip off the end of the table.

   He hated, as he stared, that he couldn't- he could feel-

   He tried to shift, to whip his head to look for the knight he knew should've been behind him. And he was right, of course. A glimpse of Dust's shadowed skull and tense body-language told Night he was on high-alert, but Nightmare hadn't been able to feel him. Hadn't sensed his presence at all. No emotions, no aura, no nothing.

  

   "Woah, steady!" Killer yelped as Nightmare felt himself tilt.

   Looking up at Dust had disoriented him. The weight distribution was different now. His body listed to the side, and he flinched when arms wrapped around at his sides and tugged his upper half onto soft fabric. Killer's legs. Killer had caught him.

   "My king, Nightmare, it's you, right?" He sounded the same. Something told Nightmare he was uncertain.

   "Y-" His attempt to speak was short-lived. His voice wasn't right. It was high-pitched and raw. All the rumble and low tones entirely missing. He couldn't be sure if he stopped on account of keeping his pride alive, or if he feared speaking in a voice he hadn't heard in years.

   It didn't help that he couldn't feel them. No matter how much he tried, the only feeling in his chest was his own solitary anxiety. Balling up tighter and tighter, an old friend come home again. If he could tell what they were thinking- if he could know if he was safe...

   He bit back his panic, holding in the weakness which was threatening to give him away. Though, what else was there to give? If he was right, then the prophecy had finally rejected him. Left him as an offering to a pack of wolves.

   Nightmare knew he was shaking, but some irrational part of him thought that if he kept his socket shut that this would all be some absurd night terror and he'd wake up cozy in his bed, or exhausted at his desk, or maybe passed out on the floor. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.

  

   "What's wrong?" That voice was deeply familiar, and all at once Nightmare felt like he had a surge of strength. "Why did Horror rush me back here? Where is our King?" It was Ccino. He sounded more frustrated than anything else, but he didn't need to feel his emotions to know the rise to his tone. The worry buried there.

   "We finished training and everything was fine," Killer explained, tone as even as he could muster, "But when we were on our way out, he just collapsed."

   Nightmare pitied him, having to tell Ccino any sort of bad news. Nightmare didn't think as he attempted again to shove himself up. If only to catch a glimpse of Ccino.

   As he peered barely over Killer's shoulder, he saw what the others did. Ccino had some sort if flour or wheat all down the front of his nice apron, and a few streaks along the thighs of hid pants from where he'd probably wiped his hands along the way. His expression was a mix of concern and fury that set Nightmare's soul into a pretzel-twist of regret, and his eyelights scanned the room as he rapidly approached Killer. Obviously looking for answers.

   Only, Ccino arrived to Killer's side, and his growing rage seemed to stop all at once, alongside his steps. He stared down at Nightmare with wide eyes. Nightmare stared up at him wearily. The king's sockets were beginning to water. Ccino's expression, the way his balled fists twitched and relaxed, the way he seemed to lose all the tension I'm his body, just getting a glimpse at him. Ccino recognized his face, no doubt about it.

   "Nightmare?" Ccino's voice was small.

   Nightmare fumbled a bit as he tried to launch away from Killer. Having Ccino so close to him simply... broke whatever had been holding back the emotional damage within. It didn't help in the slightest when Ccino crouched and immediately tugged him away from Killer and into a gentle bear-hug there on the floor.

   For the first time, in a very long time, he found that the welling of tears in his sockets didn't result in dark, tarlike, goop that fell in chunks down his skull. This time the tears were real, a transparent lilac which raced down his cheeks abd planted themselves against the fabric of Ccino's tunic and apron. He wasn't wearing his fur, he was smart like that.

   Ccino's arms wrapped around his back like they always did, and Nightmare felt himself slipping. Ccino was safe. He had always been safe.

   Nightmare didn't have time to begin sobbing as he had expected, or to even begin to hyperventilate into Ccino's shirt or curl into a ball against his chest. The moment Ccino nuzzled the side of his skull, his vision went blurry again.

   At the tightening of Ccino's grip, he heard Dust's voice again. "Magic-loss. A lot of it." Faintly rolled into his mind like a distance voice two doors over. He didn't quite catch when Killer started to speak again, or Ccino worriedly said his name. Dust was right, the magic was gone. Out of nowhere. It was a lot for his little body to handle.

[mad-hunts]

JACK MATHIS, THE CONTORTIONIST — expert thief and fauceur of the mathis family.

[ijzermansdriesen]

Two years later and on the other side of major depressive disorder, I don't remember ever crying for maandag 11:03 like I did today.