#sylvie writing

[roetrolls]

(woagh! we did it again!! it's a collab between me and Chase @sasster! Look, there's a google doc!)

Appraisal

Emarra is still drunk on attention when he returns to his trailer, buzzing with adrenaline and the thrill of a crowd. He expects Sylvie will follow him here soon enough, his little sprite always so eager for his praise after a successful show. 

He’s already imagining what he’ll say to her, turning the words over in his mind as he busies himself removing his jacket and pushes past the beaded curtains into his home.

“Yumeno.”

He freezes. Now there’s a voice that will kill a mood.

Ever the performer. Emarra is quick to reel himself in, shocked expression melting into a smile tight enough to rival Faithful.

“General.”

An unscheduled visit from the Marauder rarely spells good news, but retiring for the morning to find the man waiting in your home? That’s a level of horror all its own. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks through gritted teeth.

Zerkev has already made himself comfortable–if such a word can even be used to describe such a straight-laced troll–in the seat by the window, gaze hard and stern. 

“Sit.”

It is always cumbersome dealing with fuchsias that feel they can just walk into his home and tell him what to do. Resentment leaves a sick taste in the back of his mouth as he takes a seat opposite to the general.

“There’s no chance that what you’re here to talk about could have been a text message, I’m guessing.”

Zerkev’s expression tightens, not one for jokes on a good day, let alone on one where he is already beyond the threshold of having patience for the man.

“Why have you not found Mallum yet?”

Well, of course that’s what this is about. What else would The Marauder be making home visits for? There are so many ways Emarra can answer that question too, and they all flash in his mind one after the other.

Chiefly, he has been busy with his circus, and also it isn’t his job to play Pravus line babysitter.

Neither of these answers, however, would be met with the most pleasant of responses, so he swallows them down with the taste of resentment that now coats his throat.

“He’s in the company of professionals. You know that.”

“I was under the impression that you were a professional, Yumeno.”

“Gracious and the Roatus kid can’t find him either,” by the grace of God, he manages to swallow the indignance that tries so hard to claw its way out. “It’s going to take me some more time.”

“More time?”

Something snaps behind the general’s eye, perhaps his last thread of patience, something that somehow does not influence the rest of his expression.

Instead, Zerkev sits there stone-faced.

“Just a little patience, I’ll find him.”

“Mm,” comes the muted response. The seadweller stares a moment longer, gaze boring into Emarra with a scrutiny so intense he has to suppress the urge to shift in his seat. “Would you say you’ve been distracted from this task?”

Emarra all but scoffs at the accusation. Was he expected to put his entire life on hold until the kid was found? That’s a ridiculous idea, even for someone as work-focused as the Marauder.

“No,” he answers shortly, stopping himself before anything more insulting can tumble from his mouth.

Zerkev raises an eyebrow. “That so? I’d say otherwise, personally.”

He reaches into the jacket of his uniform to withdraw a phone. It’s almost comical how out of place the thing seems in his hand, but Emarra is in no mood for humor.

After a few seconds, Zerkev brandishes the screen, playing a short, looping clip of a shadow unfurling along someone’s wall. 

The Ringleader feels a brief twinge of satisfaction as he makes note of the tiger-shaped nightlight by the bed, one corner of his mouth twitching as if to smile.

Then he squares his jaw, lifting a blank gaze back to his uninvited guest.

“What am I meant to be looking at here?”

The general cocks his head. “You tell me.”

“It’s a recording on your phone, why would I have that information?”

With a nod, Zerkev pockets the device once more and leans forward on his knees, fingers laced together. He pauses a moment, expression deceptively placid, before answering. 

“I know you’ve more sense than to lie to my face.”

The statement, simple as it is, is easy to identify as a thinly veiled threat. Emarra, having worked with the general long enough to detect that threat a mile away, leans back into his chair as if trying to put some more distance between himself and the fuchsia. It takes some effort to conceal the panic working hard to bubble up through his chest, but he manages even then to keep his gaze level.

”Then you should know that I am not lying, to your face or otherwise.”

Zerkev purses his lips, and though his expression does not shift to betray him, he does possess the uncanny ability of letting his disappointment and irritation poison the atmosphere of the room without such dramatic shifts. 

The Ringleader very briefly finds his thoughts drifting back to the other’s missing son. Yeah, I’d run away too if this guy raised and was looking for me, no question. Poor thing must’ve had an intolerable adolescence.

Locked in a terrible staring contest with his boss, Emarra then takes the opportunity to sift through a mental list of his choice in extracurricular activities up to this point. He risks being skinned alive if he admits how lax he has actually been about finding Mallum in the many perigees that have passed between now and his being given the assignment.

He risks a fate worse than that if he so much as breathes word about harassing that damn runaway of his own in the meantime.

Zerkev clears his throat, the time limit on his second chance at honesty clearly reaching its end.

“Are you telling me that you think every time something goes bump in the day that it will have something to do with me? Come on. Be real, Zerkev. I have a life, you know.”

A disappointed click of the tongue is his only response. Is he really tsk-ing him right now? Beneath his indignation, an invisible fist constricts around Emarra’s lungs, abated only slightly by the thin shred of hope that spawns in him as the seadweller rises to his feet.

Did that actually work?

Zerkev fiddles with his cufflink and hefts a weary sigh, staring ahead of himself as if lost in thought.

“Yumeno?”

For fuck’s sake, would he just go already? “Yes?”

Without warning, the Marauder’s hand shoots out to grasp Emarra by the hair, yanking him from his chair by the scalp. The motion wrenches a pitiful yelp from his lips, palms grasping at his assailant’s wrist in an effort to relieve the pain.

“I thought I told you not to lie to me, son.”

His voice, perfectly level, belies no hint of anger. He might as well be asking about the weather for all his tone suggests.

“Zerkev–” 

The grip on his hair, already ironclad, grows tighter. 

“General Pravus, sir,” Emarra corrects himself breathlessly, a nervous chuckle catching in his throat. It would be unwise to double down he thinks, but… Ah, screw it. He’s a carnie at heart. Honesty has never been his virtue. “I have a show to run. You really think I’m wasting my precious time on pointless games?”

Zerkev regards him carefully, lips pressed into a line. The silence hangs over them like lead, suffocating enough to prompt another anxious plea from the clown.

“You know how Maelia treats me! Why would I go looking for trouble under his nose?”

“Hm.” The general blinks slowly, fingers still wound tightly in the purpleblood’s hair. “I suppose you wouldn’t, would you?”

Emarra nods the best he can with his head practically glued to the man’s hand, eyes blown wide. “Exactly! I–”

“Yumeno.”

“Sir?” He swallows, choking down his pride with some hope of warding off the venom that lurks behind that stony expression.

“Did I tell you that was Drakon’s hive?”

Emarra’s stomach drops like a stone, the panic he’s been working so hard to suppress now lurching to the surface, plain as day on his face. Zerkev’s expression is unflinching, much like the tight and fearsome grip he maintains on the Ringleader’s hair. 

A reply is hard to come by under that icy glare, but eventually the clown manages to find his voice.

“Wh-Why else would you be so upset?” he stammers, choking on his own desperation. “Everyone knows how you get about your privacy.”

The way Zerkev’s lip twitches, it’s clear that was not the answer he wanted.

“My livin’ with Drakon is public knowledge now, is it?” His tone, low before, turns downright dangerous. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ripped Emarra’s hair right out of his scalp.

Past the edges of his own hubris, the purpleblood can see that he is being given one final chance to come clean. As much as he hates the man, he can’t deny that the Marauder’s patience is astounding. Any other fish would have flown off the handle ages ago.

He swallows, fingers still clasped around the general’s assaulting wrist, and selects his next words with care.

“I made a mistake,” he says slowly, heart lodged in his throat.

“A mistake?” Zerkev echoes incredulously, almost amused at his audacity.

“A poor choice.”

“I’ll say. Unless you wanna tell me spyin’ on my home was a necessary part of the process?”

“I… I was just messing with the kid,” Emarra finally admits, voice small.

“Instead of lookin’ for mine.”

“Both! I was doing both! You couldn’t have expected me to drop my entire life for you!”

Zerkev exhales slowly, something between a growl and a sigh. It’s all the warning Emarra gets before the general throws his arm to fling him face-first into the wall, the ache in his scalp quickly replaced by a new searing pain and the scent of blood in his nose. He loses his footing in the toss and crumples to the floor in a heap, hissing quietly.

Before he has the chance to catch his bearings, the Ringleader feels a cold-toed boot upon his neck.

“I���d say I’m a reasonable man, Yumeno, wouldn’t you?” He grinds his shoe into the base of Emarra’s skull before easing up, not waiting for an answer. “So here’s what I think sounds reasonable.”

Still somewhat dazed, he can only grimace in response as Zerkev grabs him by the collar and hoists him to his feet to slam his back against the wall.

“You’re gonna get one warning. Keep that greasy nose out of my business. Leave my mate and his family alone. And find my goddamned son. Are we understood?”

Emarra squares his jaw and nods.

“Are we understood?”

His teeth are as good as dust with how hard he grits them. “Yes, sir.”

Zerkev regards him carefully, eyes flitting across his face as he, perhaps, tries to gauge the man’s sincerity. Emarra can’t help but bristle. Can’t he let him go already? What more does he fucking want?

The general frowns, evidently displeased by whatever attitude he can still detect on his underling’s face. The clown prickles under his scrutiny, for once facing down a type of attention he would sooner escape. Then, all at once, that attention is drawn elsewhere, to the small voice that sounds beyond the room’s beaded entrance. 

“Emarra!”

Though Zerkev doesn’t release the purpleblood’s collar, his grip loosens considerably, just in time for Sylvie’s innocent, four-eyed face to push its way into the scene. Those eyes become saucers when they land on the Marauder, the woman’s delicate features overtaken by fear.

“General Pravus,” she squeaks, gaze darting between him and her ringmaster.

Zerkev nods in greeting, venom all but evaporated, and Emarra thanks the Messiahs for his sprite’s timely arrival.

“I-I, um…” She shoots him another anxious glance, hand unconsciously drifting toward her own nose as she spies the blood leaking from his. “I didn’t know you would have… company.”

“I was just leavin’,” the general answers, though he makes no move to do so.

Another silence descends on the trailer, with Zerkev’s pensive gaze now settled squarely on the mutant. Emarra can practically see the gears turning in his head, and he only wishes it could come as a surprise when the man opens his mouth again.

“I just got one more thing to square away ‘fore I go. Miss Selari, hon, would you mind steppin’ outside a minute? Won’t be long.”

Sylvie hesitates, again looking to the clown. With an agitated grimace, he sighs and gives her a nod. The sooner they can get this over with, the better.

His approval eases her enough to acquiesce, and soon enough she is padding back out on light and silent feet, the gentle rattle of beads all that announces her departure. The moment that faint click subsides, Zerkev’s attention is back on Emarra.

“She’s sweeter than you deserve.”

The Ringleader balks at him, the tameness of the insult somehow a bigger slap than his previous scathing reprimands. He doesn’t care what the bastard thinks of him, obviously, but it’s not the type of comment he expects during this kind of performance review.

“How long’s it been now? That you’ve had her?”

“This is what you’re hanging around to talk about?”

Evidently, the question was rhetorical, as Emarra’s non-answer glances ineffectually off the general’s chest. He finally releases him and steps away, at least, allowing the clown some room to breathe while he prepares to prattle on.

“Mallum’s always been a bright kid, you know. Wicked bright. Bit more self control and he’d be unstoppable.”

“Uh-huh,” the purpleblood responds, his irritation palpable.

“He had a hard time with schoolfeeding. Lacked discipline, always got distracted with other things. Ain’t his fault– We’re a species built on base impulse. Same reason we don’t rear our own young.”

What the fuck is he even talking about right now?

“Most trolls lack the ability to self-regulate. We found with Mallum… It sometimes helped to remove the distractions for him. He hated me for it, ‘course, but it did him good in the end.”

“I’ll remember that next time I decide to become a lusus,” Emarra deadpans, wiping the blood from his nose.

Zerkev locks eyes with him, placid expression once again turning grave.

“Yumeno. The next time you force me out here to remind you of your job, I’m taking Miss Selari back with me.”

[sylviii]

this suuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks. fuck nanowrimo. if you're doing NaNoWriMo this year, let them know how much this sucks and don't give them any of your money.

generative AI is not a classism issue it is not an ableism issue tHE WHOLE GOAL OF THE PROJECT IS THAT YOU ARE WRITING AND NOT AN ALGORITHM.

[mischievous-thunder]

Loki's been perfecting his skills and techniques for centuries. He's probably gone through this particular scene thousands of times. But for Mobius it's the first time every single time. He's equally stunned and enraptured by Loki's beyond perfect scientific knowledge which from Mobius's perspective has developed probably in less than a minute. Nevertheless, when the initial shock is over Mobius instinctively trusts Loki with his life.

[spncrscasey]

Mine (m.c.)

Fandom/Characters: Chicago Fire - Matt Casey x Fem!Reader, Sylvie Brett, Stella Kidd, Kelly Severide, Blake Gallo, Wallace Boden, Christopher Herrmann, Joe Cruz, Darren Ritter

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Matt Casey had been secretly dating for a while, and it had gone smoothly since you worked at different firehouses. However, you were offered a job at 51 which despite seeming like a great idea, only made everything complicated.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, a bunch of fluff, pet names, mention of anxiety, protective matt, kissing, happy ending

a/n: my first fic!!!!! (on tumblr that is lol) i used to write a lot on another platforms but haven't written for fun in forever (other than for school, ew lol.) so i might be a bit rusty so just yk excuse that until i get back into my flow :) anyways i hope you guys like it <3

For the last three years, you've been working as a paramedic at Firehouse 20 alongside Violet Mikami. During that time, you've come to know Blake Gallo as a result of his on-and-off relationship with her. Although he's a great guy, what made him even greater is the person he introduced you to about a year ago— your boyfriend, Captain Matthew Casey of Firehouse 51.

Where could you possibly start? His mesmerizing, smile and his charming personality drew you in in an instant. You never realized how the occasional encounters, transformed into intimate late-night conversations. And before you knew it, those late-night talks grew into romantic dinners and memorable dates.

After months of both of you dancing around one another, he finally masked up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. Without a moment's hesitation, you instantly said yes.

Six months have passed since then. Both of you had mutually decided to keep it private for some time in order to prevent any interference with your jobs. The only individuals who had known were your respective Chiefs, just in case something happened.

Your Chief also knew you could handle a busier station such as 51. So, he had just offered you the vacant paramedic position that was left after Foster left for Med School.

Initially, you were excited about the offer because it meant working with your boyfriend. However, now you're uncertain about accepting it as you're not sure how he’d react. While you believe he'd be as thrilled as you are, there's this nagging feeling that it would complicate things.

So you decided to call him.

"Hey Matt," You said once he picked up.

"Hi babe, everything okay? You rarely call me during shift." He replied, voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine." You assure him before nervously adding, "It's just... I have something to run by you...”

"Go ahead sweetheart, what's up?"

"You know how Foster left and ever since then there's been an open paramedic spot at 51 for a while now?"

He hums encouraging you to continue.

"Well, my Chief spoke to Boden and they both agreed that I could fill that spot if I wanted to."

"That's fantastic news!" He said excitedly. "Do you want to?"

You sighed. "I do want to. I think it would be nice to work with you and the experience of working at a busier station? That would benefit me, by a lot. I’d be able to learn so much."

"Then what's there to run by me? This is your decision Y/N." Matt questioned.

"It's your house! I don't want to interfere with the little family you all have built and make things complicated considering we'd be working together while dating and what if they take it the wrong way thinking I only got the spot because I'm with you-"

"Hey! Y/N, sweetheart, breathe." He says cutting off your rambling, trying to calm you down.

"What?" you ask, voice exasperated.

"Baby, no one's going to think anything like that. You're an amazing paramedic and you earned your spot because you're good at your job. Also, no one knows that we're together so they won't suspect a thing. We don't even have to tell them yet if you don't want to.” He said reassuringly before continuing, “And you wouldn't be interfering with anything, I can assure you that we'd all love to have you at 51. This is completely your choice though, so whether you want to transfer over here or not, you have my full support, regardless of what you decide."

You smile at Matt's words. "Thank you." You pause for a moment before resuming happily, "Okay I'm going to go tell Chief that I'm accepting the position! I'll talk to you later Matt."

"That's my girl." He says smiling before hanging up.

You swiftly head to your Chief's office and let him know that you completed the transfer paperwork and are ready to begin at 51 as soon as possible. He nods, smiling, and assures you that he will push the request forward.

It was now Monday. Which also happened to be the same day you started your first shift as the new paramedic of Firehouse 51.

God were you nervous.

You had spoken to Matt multiple times and he continuously reassured you that you had no reason to feel anxious because everyone would adore you. So why were you still panicking?

Matt liked you, Gallo liked you, and so did Boden after the short interview you two had.

You had also heard a lot about each of them through Matt, and they all sounded like wonderful people. So the odds of your new coworkers welcoming you with open arms were pretty high.

Yet despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety that was coursing through your veins, leaving you a nervous wreck.

You let out a sigh, trying to calm your nerves as you approached the Firehouse. You bumped into Gallo on the way which instantly relieved your worries. Seeing a familiar face put your mind at ease, melting your fears away, even if it’s only for a moment.

The two of you engaged in an easy conversation as you walked into the building together.

Upon entering, you spotted a table near the rigs with several individuals seated around it. Gallo eagerly ushered you towards them, quickly introducing everyone.

"Squad, this is Y/N Y/L/N, our new paramedic!" He said as you smiled, waving at them.

Gallo then pointed at a tan, blue-eyed man who was sitting at the head of the table. "That's Lieutenant Kelly Severide. Head of Squad and those are his Squad members."

He quickly got up and shook your hand. "Nice to meet you Y/L/N."

You recognized him now. He was Matt's best friend, they'd been through thick and thin together. It was sweet actually, finally getting to put a face to the name you've been hearing so much about.

Gallo took his time introducing you to the other members of Squad, all of whom greeted you with kindness and respect.

As he slipped into conversation with them, you took the opportunity to excuse yourself and find your partner, Sylvie Brett, who you’d be spending most of your time with.

She stood out easily, being one of only two women in the house. You spotted her in the kitchen, chatting with another girl who you figured must be Stella, Severide's girlfriend. Matt had spoken to you about how amazing they were as a couple, and it always made you happy to hear about them. With a deep breath, you made your way over to them.

"Hi!" You smiled. "I'm the new paramedic here working with... Sylvie Brett?" You ask unsurly, turning your head to glance at the blonde hoping you're right.

"Yes, that's me! Hi!" She answered enthusiastically, hugging you. Matt had mentioned how sweet she was but the embrace still caught you by surprise. Regardless, you hugged her back, accepting the kind gesture. Once you pulled away you waved at the other woman who smiled back at you, introducing herself as Stella Kidd.

After conversing with them for some time and getting to know one another, you headed off to the officer quarters with the hope of seeing your boyfriend.

Once you approached the office that was referred to Matt Casey, you knocked.

"Come in." You heard so you stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

"Hi baby," You said, smiling at him. He looked up from his desk, features softening as he noticed you.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" He asked standing up to give you a brief kiss on the cheek.

"I'm great! Everyone here is so nice and fun to talk to. They've all been so welcoming." You answered excitedly.

"See, I told you everyone would love you. What's there not to?" He asked rhetorically, making you smile as he placed his hands on your waist pulling you in closer. Matt's inability to keep his hands to himself never fails to make you laugh. It was all quickly forgotten though when he drew you in for a more passionate kiss when he noticed that there weren't any prying eyes on you.

As time passed, days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you had seamlessly become a part of them. Each member of the group welcomed you with open arms, and it felt like you had found your place within the close-knit family they had formed at 51. It seemed like you had found a lasting bond and a sense of belonging with everyone there, envisioning a permanent future among them.

You became good friends with Sylvie and Stella, established a nice mentorship with Hermann, and created a sibling-like bond with Severide.

Most importantly though, to your knowledge, no one had suspected your relationship with Matt.

You wanted to say something, you really did. You didn't want him to think you were ashamed of being with him. But you didn't want the people you had grown so close to to think that you were only offered the position because of your relationship with him; even if you were confident that they weren't the type of people to believe that.

It was an ordinary day. You and Sylvie had just returned from responding to a call— nothing too serious, just tending to a man who had been cut by a broken mirror. Together with Sylvie, you bandaged him up and sent him to Med for stitches, wishing him a speedy recovery.

You were restocking the ambulance when Sylvie spoke up, "So, did you see the way that guy looked at you?"

You almost choked on your spit at her statement, not expecting it. "How did he look at me?"

"Oh c'mon- there were literally hearts in his eyes every time you spoke up while bandaging him!" She exclaimed a bit too loudly making you shush her.

"Who had hearts in his eyes?" Matt chimed in as he walked up to you and Brett, joining your conversation.

"No one," You say brushing him off but Sylvie interjects. "This guy we were helping earlier, he totally had the hots for our new paramedic over here." She said, nudging you with her arm in a teasing manner.

"Oh, did he?" Matt asked in a tone that sounded like he was joking but you could see the way his body tensed.

"It's whatever, nothing serious. It's not like I'm going to go on a date with him." You roll your eyes trying to dismiss the situation.

"You should!" Sylvie replies happily, "You're pretty and single. He wasn't bad on the eyes either, if you know what I mean. Go have some fun girl! Who knows, he could be the love of your life." She adds, winking.

Matt gave a half-hearted smile and walked away without acknowledging Brett, leaving her looking up in confusion. "What was that about?" She asked.

"No idea," You say shortly, despite knowing exactly what was going on.

Matthew Casey was jealous.

It was quite surprising because he had never shown signs of being the jealous type. In the past, if another man approached you in his presence, he would politely ask them to leave you alone, making it clear that you were already taken. Or he’d simply put his arm around you in a protective, not-so-friendly manner, letting everyone know that you were his. It never bothered you. You found it cute, actually.

But this? This was different. He had never acted this way, which concerned you.

After you were done restocking the ambo you made your way to his office, hoping to ease the tension.

You sighed as you knocked, hearing a quick come-in before stepping inside. You noticed he had his head buried in paperwork, not even acknowledging you as you came in.

"Matt, honey, what's wrong?" You asked, worried when he still didn't look up at you. You waited for a moment before continuing once he didn't reply, "Baby talk to me."

He sighs before finally looking into your eyes. His ocean blues never failed to make you weak in the knees. So intimidating but beautiful nevertheless.

"I don't want to keep this a secret any longer." He eventually replied, motioning between the two of you.

"I don't want to either but you know we can't."

"Why can't we?" He said, tone a bit sharp, causing you to flinch for a second.

"Because-" you were cut off by a knock on Matt's door making you straighten up.

"Sorry to interrupt, but there's someone here to see you Y/N." Said Severide as he poked his head into Casey's office letting you know before heading out.

You quickly glance at Matt sighing before leaving his office, silently apologizing. You hated leaving mid conversation but this could be important. You noticed him trailing behind you as you walked out but chose not to comment on it.

Once you were outside, you recognized him as the man you had sent to Med earlier. The same man who had 'the hots' for you apparently, according to Brett.

This was going to be a long conversation.

"Hello!" He said, way too ecstatic for someone who had just been discharged from a hospital.

"Hi there, how are you feeling?" You asked, keeping the conversation polite.

"Better thanks to you, you saved my life."

"Oh, you know, no big deal! Just doing my job."

"Well, I was hoping to take you out on a date as a way of saying thank you." He said with confidence, catching you off guard.

"I'm very flattered sir but you don't need to thank me, let alone take me out on a date. I'm happy to help, love what I do." You say, hoping that gets rid of him.

By now, you were fully aware that most of the members of the firehouse were watching the interaction occur from behind you. Hence why you were aiming to wrap it up as soon as possible.

"No, no, I insist. We'll have a great time together!" He pushes.

"Like I said, thanks for the offer but I'm going to have to decline. Feel better." You say, turning around.

Before you had a chance to walk away, he grabbed your wrist harshly. Pulling you backward, making you lose your balance, and almost causing you to fall.

"Woah woah woah-" "Back off!" You hear the men hurriedly interject pushing him away from you before Matt yells, in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. "Get your hands off of my paramedic before I call the authorities. You have no right to touch her, especially after she said no."

Boden hears the commotion and steps out of his office. "What's going on over here?"

"This man put his hands on Y/N after she rejected him Chief. He was just leaving though weren't, you?" Matt replies, glaring at the man making him quickly walk away.

The second that he was out of sight, everyone turned to you. Stella speaks up, "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry guys, I'm fine." You say looking around at all of them, reassuring them that you're okay. "Thanks for the help. I'm sure he won't be coming back any time soon, especially after the way Casey glared at him." You add chuckling, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere around you.

"You'd almost think you guys were dating with the way he attacked him to defend you," Severide commented casually, using a tone that sounded like he knew something. Which you decided to ignore for the time being.

At the mention of your boyfriend though, you looked up hoping to catch a glimpse of him but noticed he was nowhere to be found which alarmed you.

As the crowd dispersed and engaged in their own conversations, you discreetly slipped away and made your way to visit Matt in his quarters, marking this as your second visit there in the last half hour.

This time though, you didn't even bother knocking and simply walked in.

When he noticed it was you, he quickly stood up concerned, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh, I'm alright. Don't worry, it was nothing I hadn't dealt with before in this line of duty, you know how men can be sometimes.” You answered, nonchalantly.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say. Finally, you decided to break the silence, “I'm sorry, Matt. I don't want to argue with you, so if it'll make you happy, we can go tell them right now.”

He sighed, turning around in his chair to look at you, “Y/N, this isn't just up to me, we’re in this relationship together. We have to make decisions like these as a team. I love you and I want everyone to know that but if you're not taking this seriously and want to go on that date instead then-”

“No! This is serious to me Matt, I love you and you know that.” You cut him off before he's able to finish the sentence. “I have eyes for you and only you, no one else matters to me but you, Matthew Casey.” You add firmly, making sure he understands that.

“Then what’s the issue here?” He asks, tired of the constant back and forth you've been having today.

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed before replying, “I just- I've become so close to everyone here in the last few weeks and I don't want their opinion of me to change after they find out that you and I are together. I don't want them to think that I'm only here because of you.”

“Baby…” He says in a softer tone, getting out of his seat to come sit next to you.

You don't look at him once he's sat beside you, opting to look at the floor instead.

“Hey, look at me.” He gently says taking your hands in his, grabbing your attention.

You hum as you bring your eyes up to meet his.

When he's sure you're not going to look away, he starts speaking, “Listen to me, everyone here? They're the most amazing and supportive group of people you'll ever meet. They won't dare say anything of the sort because they'd be beyond happy for us. And if they slightly even think about it, I won't hesitate to go all ‘Captain’ on them.” He says, making you chuckle.

“Besides, I don't want idiots like that guy who can't take no for an answer, hurting you again for a nonexistent chance of taking you out.” He adds.

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his, and after a moment passes, you mutter a simple, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Matt questions.

“Yeah, okay, let’s tell them.” You reply, nodding enthusiastically.

“I want everyone to know that this handsome man right here,” You say pointing at his chest with a teasing tone, “Is of the market and mine only.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Mhm,” You say with an even bigger smile, before leaning in to press your lips against his.

As your lips finally touch, a wave of stillness washes over you. It feels as though the entire world has come to a halt and all that exists is the shared connection between the two of you. At that moment, nothing else matters except for the feeling of his lips against yours.

His delicate hand caresses your face, making you smile into the kiss as you pull him in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. There's no need to hide your love for each other anymore, allowing your affection for one another to be expressed freely without the fear of secrecy. The rush of emotion flowing through you is intoxicating and God, it is an exhilarating feeling, one that you had never felt before.

Before the kiss could progress any further, you heard cheering outside making you pull away. You glance out the window to understand what the fuss is about when you notice that the blinds were left open, meaning that all of 51 just saw you kissing Matt.

Your cheeks flush with warmth, causing you to bury your face in Matt's shoulder as he laughs at your reaction. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer in a tight embrace.

You look up at him, mouthing an ‘I love you,’

He whispers back, “I love you too.”

He quickly leans in for one more peck against your lips, before bracing himself for all the questions you're about to receive once you head outside.

“You guys were betting on us?” You asked amused, raising your eyebrows at the exchange of money happening right in front of your eyes.

“Well, what were we supposed to do!?” Cruz exclaimed defensively, earning a giggle from you.

“I mean, we all knew you guys were head over heels for each other, that was obvious. We just didn't realize you had been together prior to all of this.” Added Ritter, shrugging.

“I can speak for everyone though when I say that we are all very happy for you two.” Said Herrmann, making everyone nod in agreement.

As soon as the initial stage of shock died down, Stella and Sylvie rushed over to you, enveloping you in a group hug, requesting all the juicy details. While Kelly simply gave Matt a supportive pat on the back, smiling at his best friend.

Soon, the questions regarding your relationship began pouring in. Matt drew you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he answered each of them one by one. You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes briefly, basking in the serenity.

And at last, you found yourself finally feeling at ease. Your family knew, and they were happy for you. Which is all you could ask for.

[p4nishers]

what i absolutely adore about mobius is that he never stops being kind. EVER. he has gone through so much and no matter what happens he always chooses kindness over anything else. we've seen him comfort strangers countless times without hesitation because he's just THAT good and he would never turn away from anyone in distress. even when he's clearly upset he's still kind enough to explain to victor what he's drinking and not even be annoyed at his constant interrupting but just say "hold on a second" in a gentle tone then focus on him again DESPITE EVERYTHING GOING ON to get him hot chocolate bc why wouldn't he do so? he doesn't question these actions because they come naturally to him, kindness is in his nature. why shouldn't he try to lighten the mood and be kind while they wait for their end? why shouldn't he reassure and comfort everyone around him while he's actively falling apart? these aren't questions for him bc he's at his core the kindest person in the show and he will always ALWAYS have time and space to be kind. god.

[username8746489]

Scenario using the "Naven is head of Bliss Ocean" theory with Sylvie discovering it

(Fic under cut; wordcount: 1,308)

"It's you, isn't it?"

Naven stared at him with an unyielding smile, tilting his head curiously, "Whatever do you mean by that?"

The two of them were standing in an abandoned room in the convention hall, the only light filtering in through thick curtains closed over the windows. Despite that, Sylvie could've sworn Naven's hair was glowing with an almost radioactive green gleam.

Yoomtah looked between both guys, practically vibrating on her heels, "Should I-"

Naven shook his head, smiling at her, "Could you leave us alone for a second?"

His bodyguard stood straight up, a saluting hand on her forehead, "On it, bossman!"

Sylvie's eyes trailed after her as she somehow sprinted out of the room so fast, only a blur was left behind in her wake, slamming the door so hard the walls seemed to shake. He returned his steely gaze to Naven, "I know everything."

"You'll have to enlighten me," The CEO responded with a frown, resting his chin on his hand, "I'm afraid I don't have any clue what you're talking about."

Sylvie pointed an accusatory finger, narrowing his eyes through his glasses, "Bliss Ocean. You run it." An uncomfortable silence followed his statement. Sylvie swallowed, "Don't try and pretend otherwise, I have proof-"

Naven interrupted his bluff with slow clapping, walking ever closer to the psychologist. He normally wasn't threatening at all, looking like a strong breeze might knock him over. And yet, Sylvie found himself stepping back, a hand shifting to grab the yo-yo in his pocket.

"Congratulations!"

Sylvie paused, somewhat surprised at the ease with which Naven said it.

"You've caught me! It's impressive really, considering that you only started investigating this today. Maybe you do live up to your, what was it?" Naven tapped his chin with a finger, looking off into the distance. Sylvie scowled. He was being underestimated. "…'Child genius' title? The way Molly talked about you, I thought you were maybe cheating your way through school."

Sylvie flinched. Molly talked about him? And… not in a flattering way. He could gather that much.

"But it doesn't really matter, does it?" Naven returned his gaze to Sylvie, boxing him in against the wall, "Who's going to believe you?"

"Huh?"

"You're just a kid, aren't you?" He asked, voice dripping with sugary sweet condescension, "Why would they trust you of all people? The random teenager who's been spouting random conspiracies about Bliss Ocean being at this convention."

"I-" Sylvie's mouth was dry, but he still spat out the words, "I'm not a kid!"

"Aren't you?" Naven's smile grew ever wider with each passing second of silence from Sylvie, "You've spent your entire life in a race to grow up. But guess what? Being an adult isn't about having a job, or a house, or a car. It's about the skills and connections you make in your youth." Naven bopped Sylvie's nose, "And in your rush to become one, it seems you haven't really grown up at all, have you?"

"But I do acknowledge the fact you know now." He leaned down, whispering in the teenager's ear, "You've done so much at only the age of fifteen. It's a shame they'll remember your murder more than your accomplishments."

Sylvie swung a sloppy punch at Naven, missing, but continuing to swipe at him, "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm not- I will expose you!" They continued to move towards the center of the room, culminating in Sylvie tackling the sickly man to the ground, grabing fistfuls of fabric as he hauled Naven's torso up by his shoulder-cape. He hissed in his face, "I'll make sure everyone will know about what you've done."

Naven was still smiling, "You can try."

The door slammed open, light flooding into the room. A whole group of people were standing in the frame, led by Yoomtah, who casually flicked the lights on with a grin, "I brought who you wanted!"

Molly, Trixie, and Phoenica were gasping in horror. Giovanni was staring at him with hardly concealed discontempt. Rick was just… looking. The smile on his face suggested an emotion, but Sylvie had spent enough time with him at this point to know it was for show.

"Sylvie!" Molly cried, "Get off of him!"

Yoomtah hopped over, grabbing Naven by his armpits and yanking him out from under Sylvie with a giggle, sending the psychologist toppling to the ground. She used her hand to dust off Naven, before smiling at him with her hands on her hips, "Silly, silly, I leave you alone for five minutes and you get yourself attacked by a kid! What would you do without me?"

Naven almost looked like a completely different person, sheepishly adjusting his glasses, "Sorry, sorry…"

"Naven's weak!" Phoenica frowned with a pout, walking over to hug Naven's legs, "It's not right to attack someone who can't fight back! It's not right to attack someone in general!"

"Why were you even trying to fight him?" Trixie squinted, stepping in front of the CEO like she was his hired bodyguard.

"Probably got made fun of for being a NERDDDD!" Giovanni and Trixie high-fived.

Sylvie remained on the ground, legs sprawled out beneath him. He might've been stationary but his mind was still spinning, stammering over his words, "But I- He-"

Naven brushed off the crowd of people surrounding him, approaching Sylvie, "I know that you've been struggling a lot with this whole… 'Bliss Ocean Investigation'." Naven reached out a hand, "But you shouldn't let it consume you."

Sylvie smacked it away with an incredulous glare, "Don't psychoanalyze me! That's my thing!" He turned to the group, gesturing to Naven, "He's- He's the head of Bliss Ocean!"

They all blinked at him with varying amounts of confusion and weariness.

"Oh my," Naven said, sounding as if this was the first time he had heard this accusation.

"Sylvie!" Molly hissed, hands clenched tight around the straps of her backpack. "Why would you say something like that?!"

"Because I'm right!" Sylvie protested, fists balled in his lap, "It all makes sense, doesn't it?!"

"No?!?!"

"He's a Mundie in charge of one of the biggest corporations in the world!" Sylvie retorted, "Bliss Ocean is a large Mundie terrorist group! Where do you think they're getting all their funding from?!"

"You can't just say he's a part of a mundie terrorist group because he's a Mundie!" Phoenica gasped in horror, hands clasped over her mouth.

"And isn't one of their operatives a bounty hunter?" Molly added, "They could easily be getting money from there too."

"But- But-"

"He reminds me a bit of Lorelai," Naven chuckled a bit, "Only seeing what he wants to and refusing to see any other perspective."

Sylvie didn't know who Lorelai was. But evidently, everyone else did, the atmosphere of the room shifting to an oppressive pressure, all pushing down on him and him alone. There was no sympathy to be found in their gazes, only disdain. They were projecting. Just that one comparison was enough to equate him to whatever wrongdoings Lorelai had done.

"Let's go," Giovanni murmured to the three girls, gently corraling them back to the door. Yoomtah followed his example, dragging Naven by his hand.

Sylvie only managed to move when he saw Rick go to join them as well.

"Rick! Rick, you believe me, don't you?" Sylvie begged, grabbing at his hand, "You've been with me this entire time-"

Rick stared down at him. The friendship string connecting their two souls appeared, hanging in the air and crackling with black energy. Then all at once, it exploded, shattering into pieces and raining down like soot. Rick took back his hand with an sad frown, walking back to the rest of the group.

They turned off the lights as they left, leaving a kid shaking in the middle of an empty room, all by his lonesome.

[flicklikesstuff]

More Rick + Sylvie Doodles because they’re taking up too much of my headspace and I want ya’ll to suffer with me

.

(Fellas, I think he’s losing it-)

.

.

Omfgggggg, there really is SO MUCH I want to talk about with these two istg they’re making me sick even though they have never interacted in canon but whatever-

At least that means you can expect more of both of them from me. They’re both my fav characters after all.

[demonicseries]

they gave sylvie a shag mullet and really had me thinking they were gonna make her the lesbian that runs mcdonalds like it's the navy, but no, cause marvel doesn't know how to write

[gaybravado]

elf misery

[gojuo]

does nobody in king's landing know this rightful heir that's getting denied her seat is the reason there's no food in the city orrrr 😭

[roetrolls]

Troupe // Angel, Tiger, Sprite

-

She was not like the others. They were pitiful. Dull.

The ringmaster fancied himself above her, and for that she grew to hate him, just as she hated everyone. Disgraceful was their presence, those sniveling creatures with their hollow eyes and empty souls.

They did not understand what they had.

She was not like the others, and she resented them for the difference. Perhaps she was made better. Perhaps she was just lacking.

When they came to her for help, she ensured that it would hurt. They were pathetic, intolerant to pain. They writhed and squirmed and screamed, and she watched them all with indifference, observing that which she could not feel.

She was not like the others, and she won the reveler’s eye.

In her mind, freedom was secondary. The circus was no different from the world at large. But here, she saw a chance, for the reveler could see the truth.

She was not like the others, and she deserved so much more.

He was a beggar on the street when the shadows dragged him in. The clown found him by chance, and for all his efforts, he could not escape the darkness that swallowed him.

The early sweeps were uneventful, and stiflingly so. The boy could not grow up in a cage so achingly small, and it was not long before he grew bitter. He remembered freedom, and he knew he had been robbed.

For a time, he was well and truly stuck. There was nowhere to flee, for as drear as the circus was, to run and be caught was to forfeit one’s life.

The boy knew freedom once, but he soon forgot her name.

When he was struck one night by a flailing tiger’s claw, it should have marked his end. But when he rose again, he found he had no marks at all. He thought it a blessing, then. What was there to fear for a boy who could beat death?

Plenty, he soon learned, for the clown was as delighted by the gift as he. The boy knew freedom once, and she had coaxed him towards the sun.

He died for the clown. 

He died for him, and died for him, and died for him, and each day he lived to die again.

At times he feared he would not wake. At times he feared he would. Though he knew freedom once, her taste was beaten from his lips.

He grazed the other side, met it through burns and blood and breaks. With every death came anger, for it hurt less than fear. He had been angry for so long, he did not know how to stop. 

But when the dragon came, anger did not feel right. What, then, was he to feel? He had not known safety for as long as he had lived. How was he to greet her?

The boy knew freedom once, and he is getting reacquainted.

He is her savior. She does not like him.

He is cruel, heartless, overbearing. He revels in violence and seeks to entertain himself through the suffering of others– the small, the vulnerable, the ones like her.

She does not like him. He is her home.

When he embraces her, he becomes all that she knows, and though she does not like him, she knows that she is safe. She has been his favorite for so long, and she thinks that should be a blessing, for he has always been insatiable.

He watches the world through hungry eyes and takes by force all that which feeds them. She has felt those eyes drink her in, and she is lucky to be his.

She has seen countless acquisitions come and go, and so often she knows she does not like him but she wishes that she could.

She is, at the very least, good at pretending, and at times she can almost convince herself.

She has known hunger. Real hunger, the kind that aches and pangs and screams until you forget what it is to be full. She does not like him, but she has known hunger and she knows that it is worse.

[silverhalla]

ohhhhh yeah it’s all coming together

[mischievous-thunder]

When Loki hit rock bottom and was at a loss as to what he needed to do in favour of the impossible task he was set out to rectify he went to the only person he knew would show him the way. Mobius's wise counsel was all Loki needed to pinpoint and strengthen the firmness of his glorious purpose. This is one of the most special memories that'll be etched on Loki's heart for all eternity.

[pencap]

Yay! Word prompts 😊 mine words are - girl, fire and wolf

you can call me delicate, bright and pretty as a candleflame safely trapped in the jar breathing perfumed air into the room.

but i know a candleflame can become a wildfire and still holds the same burning, devouring hunger.

you can think me docile, sweet and tame as a pet dog well-trained at the end of the leash rolling over to show you my soft belly.

but i know a dog was once a wolf and still harbours the same sharp teeth and wild instincts.

yes, i am a pretty little thing delicate and docile and hungry like fire wild like a wolf

yes, i am a pretty little thing devouring and sharp-toothed like a girl.

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Hello, it’s me- the angst fairy- back again with something needlessly angsty. I was reminded recently about a scene I’d deleted from an old fic of mine. No regrets about deleting, it was the right decision, but I was sad to cut it. B-15 deserves more character analysis. So sharing it now.

Tagging just a few folks who I don’t think will mind the angst but anyone else who sees this and wants to participate in sharing their art or writing- please do! 💚 (And please tag me in your posts so I don’t miss it) @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lgwilt @dewdropreader

Deleted scene from a fic where Mobius is trying to ignore his trauma but the memories of those he’s pruned keep on coming. B-15 helps him through it. (I noticed on B-15’s Funko Pop that she tracked her kills on her helmet and decided, as I do, there’s an angsty story there.)

Verity stopped and opened a small door to their left, pulling Mobius inside an empty room.

“I thought you said we were running late to another meeting?”

“There’s no meeting,” she said. “Just looked like you needed a break from the briefing. Take a minute.”

Mobius nodded and let his head fall against the door behind him, relishing the feeling of cool metal against his skin. It was quiet. There were no glaring lights, no beeping machines, no questions he didn’t know the answer to. Mobius took a few steady breaths until the headache pounding in his head subsided. He opened his eyes to find Verity watching him closely.

“Thanks,” Mobius said, pushing himself from the door and straightening his tie. “I feel better. Don’t tell Loki he was right. He warned me that a meeting on numerical code methodology for new timelines would put me to sleep.”

He turned to share a laugh with Verity but her face didn’t show any amusement. Instead, she looked concerned.

“I don’t think this was as simple as you falling asleep in a meeting,” she said carefully.

Mobius stilled. He had hoped his episodes weren’t noticeable but he should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep them from Verity. She was smart. It’s why he named her Deputy Director.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

Flashes of a park on a sunny day, a couple laughing, a timestick in his hand, a scream of terror, and a case file— variants eliminated— sped through Mobius’ mind before they were gone.

“No… I don’t remember what I was thinking about,” Mobius answered honestly. It was probably for the best he didn’t remember.

Verity frowned. “You shouldn’t repress your memories.”

Mobius slumped back against the door with a groan. She was right. While they still didn’t quite understand what the TVA had done to them, they were beginning to understand how they could heal their broken minds. Mobius knew the steps a TVA worker should take when they felt their memories resurface —he’d help write the protocol— but it was time consuming. For an organization that existed outside time, Mobius sure felt they were constantly running out of it. He didn’t have time to practice the techniques he’d taught others.

“There are too many cases that need my attention right now,” Mobius said.

“You need to offload some of those. I keep telling you-”

“I know, I know. I will. I just need to get through this Mandarin case first.”

“And then?” Verity pressed.

“And then I’ll take a few days off and sort through some of this… stuff.

Verity gave a disbelieving huff.

“I will.”

A heavy silence fell between the two agents and Mobius looked at the room around them. They were in one of the storage rooms that used to hold confiscated variants’ possessions. Without the stolen artifacts filling the shelves, the room seemed hollow. Purposeless. Mobius didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it in the reallocation.

“You’re not the only one who’s struggling,” Verity whispered. Her voice was soft, so soft that even in the silence of the abandoned room Mobius hardly heard her. At first, he wasn’t sure she intended to speak the words out loud.

“That’s how I knew you were having an episode,” she continued, twiddling with the cufflinks on her new suit in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I get these… headaches sometimes. Everything blurs together and I can’t remember where or when I am. It’s like I’m lost in my memories or, no, it’s like I’m trapped… trapped by him again… like we never escaped.”

Verity clenched her eyes shut with a sharp inhale of breath as if she were trapped inside a memory right now and Mobius reached out, taking her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew how terrifying it was to be stuck in your memories, to feel like you were back under his control. They may have defeated He Who Remains but he was still here. He always would be. There was no amount of running they could do to escape him entirely. It made Mobius feel weak. He hated thinking Verity felt the same.

“Did you know I used to track kills on my helmet?” Verity asked.

Mobius nodded. He remembered. His memories might be splintered but he remembered enough. He remembered what they were a part of.

“I hated that thing,” she scowled. “I hated that number printed on the side. The paint was fresh when I started but sometimes I swore I could see the etchings of another number. The number of whoever I replaced when they were deemed ineffective. I wondered how long it would be before they replaced me.

“I thought if I marked my helmet as my own, if I made it look different, I would feel better. They wouldn’t paint over it so easy. I thought if I pruned more than anyone else, I could prove to the Timekeepers that I was better than everyone else in my unit. That I would feel useful, good, like what I was doing mattered but-” Verity’s voice cracked and Mobius squeezed her hand tighter. “I only ever felt more angry. So, I pruned more hoping that feeling would go away. It never did. It just kept getting worse and worse and worse until…” Verity trailed off.

“Until Sylvie,” Mobius finished.

“Until Sylvie,” Verity agreed, wiping her eyes and pulling back with a soft smile on her face. “Sylvie showed me everything I lost and suddenly it all made sense. I knew why I hated that number. I knew why I woke up furious at the world, looking to punish anyone who got in my way. It’s because that number wasn’t my name. Who they made me wasn’t me.

“They took everything from us and while we can’t travel back in time and change what was done, we can change our future. We have the opportunity to fight for something we believe in now. Sylvie and Loki gave us that.”

Warmth spread through Mobius as the mention of Loki’s name. He looked down at the ring on his left hand and smiled, running his finger along the band again. He would never understand how he’d gotten so lucky; he would do everything in his power to be the man Loki believed him to be.

“You gave us this opportunity too,” Verity added. “When we burnt down our old TVA, you built a new one and you didn’t dictate a new purpose but rather showed us what a new purpose could be. We chose to follow you. We choose this life. And…” Mobius felt Verity give his hands a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to carry it alone. We want to help you.”

Mobius carefully untangled his hands from Verity’s and took a step backwards. “I know.”

“Good,” Verity nodded with an air of finality. “At least let Loki help you. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but he’s started helping me with my cases.”

Mobius snorted. He could only imagine how that was going.

“It’s not funny, Mobius. He’s driving me nuts. You need to let him return to smothering you otherwise I might just send him to the Void without his TemPad.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Mobius chuckled at Verity’s hollow threat. “I’ll talk to him. Now, come on. I think we both deserve a little treat after all this. Let’s see what Processing confiscated today.”

Verity hesitated. “Mobius, I don’t care how many different variations you force me to try, I’m not going to like any timeline’s Josta.”

“What?? After all that talk about hope and change. One day I am going to find you a Josta you like. But no, I actually wasn’t talking about Josta this time. I heard Processing just got back with a case full of strawberry margarita mix. If that interests you.”

Verity’s face lit up in a brilliant smile. “Now, you’re speaking my language. Lead the way, Director. Josta aside, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

I’ll follow you anywhere.

Mobius’ steps faltered as he swallowed over the lump of fear in his throat at the words. Verity and the entire TVA would follow him. They were depending on him to show them the way, to fix things and Mobius couldn’t let them down. He wouldn’t.

Okay, I’ll write something fluffy and cute for next time. I promise I do know how to write sweet things 😅

[username8746489]

Rick + Sylvie angst (mostly rick) based on what little we know about HPC (mostly the idea that they're an investigation duo hunting down the final Bliss Ocean member)

(Fic under cut; wordcount: 467)

"This is it!" Sylvie was practically skipping down the halls of the convention center, looking eerily cheerful for someone who had just almost died. "If they were trying to kill me, that means that we're close to finding out their identity! They wouldn't think we were a threat otherwise!" He spins around on his heel, beaming at Rick with a smile so childishly bright on a boy who always attempts (and fails) to act mature for his age.

Rick wearily smiles back, body moving on instinct while his mind is racing. His eyes can't leave the stray injuries on Sylvie's body from Bliss Ocean's assassination attempt.

"Well, next we have to-"

"What if… we don't?" The words leave Rick's mouth without thinking, dialogue quiet and subdued compared to the usual persona he puts on.

Sylvie blinks at him, "…What? What are you talking about?! We can't stop now!"

"They just tried to kill you!" Rick shouts back, stopping in his tracks, the first time he's ever fought back against Sylvie's direction during this entire investigation. The voice rings around the empty hallway, echoes hanging heavy in the air.

Sylvie looks almost offended, sputtering for a moment before his lips press tightly together. "…Do you think they're going to stop at me?"

"I- What?"

"They're not going to stop at me. They're going to keep hurting and killing to get what they want. If I can stop that, I will." Sylvie firmly states, "I became a psychologist to help people. This is helping."

"But-"

"Why are you even arguing now?!" Sylvie retorts, stamping his foot on the ground like a toddler. "You knew what we were doing, you knew we were going after Bliss Ocean!"

"I can't watch another friend die!"

Sylvie startles at that, stunned into silence.

Rick steps closer, clutching a hand over the heart shaped patch on his jacket, "I've been having so much fun up here with everyone." He comes to a stop standing right in front of Sylvie, letting out a weak laugh that sounds more like air sputtering out of a deflating balloon, "I… I forgot how scary it is to see people you've made actual connections with fade away."

"But- But we can beat them-"

"We can't," Rick spits out, "I have seen people like you. People stronger than you. I've seen them all die against His Translucence. And you know what? Bliss Ocean is stronger than him. We don't have a chance."

"So what?!" Sylvie bunches his hands into fists, "Are you saying we just… give up?!"

"Sylvie, please."

Rick drops to his knees, grasping at the boy's shoulders with fingers afraid to let go. His sunglasses clatter to the ground before tears drip onto the lenses.

Odi looks up at him, "Please don't make me live through that again."