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finchesslingshott · 3 months

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HI THERE I JUST FINISHED LISTENING TO THE OUTSIDERS MUSICAL CAST ALBUM HOO BOY WHAT A WILD RIDE HERE ARE MY UNEDITED NOTES BUCKLE IN ITS A LOTTA WORDS

Tulsa ‘67 - 9/10

OK PONY??? HIS VOICE????

Instrumental i love you

“I know there’s so much more to life than what’s in front of me” UGHHH MY HEART

THIS IS ACTUALLY A BANGER WHAT THE HECK??

THE RUNS??? PONY???

I love tenors

The lyrics are just so simple and plain and straight-forward it really like emphazises the fact that pony’s only supposed to be 14-15 in this

“Building up the west side while the east side falls apart” WOAH

THE CHORDDDDD OH MY GOSH

“WE ARE GREASERS!” UGH IM SOBBING

PONYYYYYYY HIS VOICE I’M DYING HE’S PHENOMENAL

Grease Got a Hold - 10/10

Soda your voice- UGH IT’S PHENOMENAL (or maybe it’s dally? I’m not sure I’m bad at distinguishing voices)(pretty sure it's soda tho)

THE. FREAKING. SAXAPHONE.

WOAHHH OH MY GOSH OK RAPPER ERA I LOVE YOU SODA AND TWO-BIT

The harmonies have me ascending

“I LOVE YOU SUPERMAN” I’M SOBBING

THE HARMONIES. OH MY GOODNESS.

THE RUN????? YES?????

Runs in the Family - 8/10

DARRY I LOVE YOU.

“Now i’m stuck between the role of a brother and a father”

The instrumental is so Hamilton-coded (specifically the smooth cello) and I love it

That was too short but oh my GOSH.

Great Expectations - 10/10

“Lately I’ve been thinking ‘bout that little orphan boy / whose parents died and left him all alone” MY HEART THE ABANDONMENT TRAUMA MY POOR BABY

“And I wonder / Is that orphan story mine?”

This is gonna be the one I’m gonna kin most you watch and wait

The EMOTIONS.

“I look around at all of my friends / but still I feel alone” OH MY GOSH

“I would follow them into battle but / this story isn’t mine”

THE HARMONIES. I’M IN TEARS.

PONYBOY CURTIS. YOU HAD NO RIGHT HITTING ME WITH A HIGH B RIGHT NOW

“It’s hard to write the story / when the story’s writing me”

Friday at the Drive-in - 8.5/10

THE INSTRUMENTAL? I LOVE YOU ORCHESTRA

CHERRY’S VOICE??? YES MA’AM ATE IT UP

THE HARMONIES. THE HARMONIES.

This sounds like the most fun number in the show like just from the sounds i’m hearing i need to see this show like right now

THAT WAS TOO SHORT BUT OH MY LORD

I Could Talk to You All Night - 9.5/10

Cherry your voice is so beautiful I love you

Just kiss Pony already hurry up /j

PONYBOY CURTIS. YOUR VOICE. MARRY ME.

I never shipped Cherry and Pony in the book or the movie but like- half of me is kinda-

THE HARMONIESSSSS I LOVE THEM.

“It was the first time in my life someone actually listened to me like that.”

UGH I LOVE YOU BOTH

Runs in the Family (Reprise) - 8.5/10

Soda’s dialogue in between Darry’s singing has me sobbing i love them

“I’ll fold the laundry… I’LL FOLD ALL OF IT!” i love you soda

Darry’s voice urgh I love tenors

“I try to keep you from the fire / but I’m the one that’s getting burned”

Darry mental breakdown song I’m living for it

THE RUN??? DARREL CURTIS???

“What’s the use of dreaming of a life I’ll never know?”

THE SHOUTING MATCH??

CALLING SODA “YOUR KNUCKLEHEAD BROTHER” IS COMPLETELY UNCALLED FOR HE’S LITERALLY RIGHT THERE DARRY

The drama the emotion I’m here for it

Far Away from Tulsa - 9.5/10

Ponyboy singing his rear off in this musical and I’m so grateful for it KEEP MY BOY SINGING

Yes romanticise your dreams king I love you

“Santa Fe” from Newsies’ depressed younger cousin fr

This song is for the kids dreaming of running away with their best friend and leaving their entire life behind

Oops another song to kin

AWWWWWH JOHNNY YOUR VOICE I LOVE YOU

“And every night we’d stare up at the stars”

THE HARMONIES I LOVE THEM

I never shipped these guys either but like I can see it tbh

THE CALLBACK TO “GREAT EXPECTATIONS”

ONCE AGAIN PONYBOY YOU AND YOUR HIGH NOTES ARE BREAKING ME APART I LOVE YOU

I needed more Johnny but it’s okay

Run Run Brother - 9.5/10

The opening dialogue already breaking my heart Pony sounds so panicked

Johnny your little voice i love you

Once again these lyrics are so straightforward

THE HARMONIES

Dally I love you

THIS IS ACTUALLY SUCH A BOP WHAT

DALLY YOUR VOICE UGH ITS SO GOOD

It’s so cohesive to the book’s story I love it thank you S.E. Hinton for not completely changing the entire plot I wouldve lost my mind

“Even though it kills me to say / run run brother / run take cover” MY HEART IS DEAD

The ensemble/chorus vocals in the background are making it almost like eerie I love this

“You can run (?) from the fire / but you’re bound to get burned” FORESHADOWING

Johnny I love your speaking voice I need more of it

USING THE TRAIN SOUNDS I LOVE IT

Justice for Tulsa - 9/10

The beat is so Hamilton-coded /pos

Dallas hecking Winston I love you

Once again the chorus vocals adds a layer of like tension I never could’ve imagined

CHERRY!!!! HEY POOKIE!!!!

“When it was only you and me alone / I saw a side of you I wished you’d known”

HEY RANDY OMG IT’S MY FAVORITE SIDE CHARACTER

“We were only having fun” urgh my heart this poor boy

Cherry standing up for Pony and Johnny go girl go

Is this the closer of act one? Cuz HOLY HECK

SOCS VOCALS I LOVE YOU GUYS

RANDY LET’S HECKING GO

THE HARMONIES OH MY GOSH

Death’s at My Door - 8.7/10

Once again freaking PONYBOY CURTIS I LOVE YOUR VOICE WITH MY ENTIRE SOUL

This feels like a Phoebe Bridgers song and honestly I am so freaking here for it

“Johnny can’t you see / I’ve brought this on / you should move on / you’d be better off without me” oh so he’s HURT okay

UGH JOHNNY YOUR SWEET LITTLE VOICE MY ANGEL

“The reason I’m living is you” THE HARMONIES, THE STATEMENT, MY BOYS

I LOVE THEM

Once again WAY TOO SHORT but URGH SO GOOD

I need a Phoebe Bridgers cover asap

Throwing in the Towel - 9/10

OK STRING INSTRUMENTAL?? I LOVE YOU ORCHESTRA

Darry’s voice urhghahaddskflgfhlksfdlhdgls

YIPPEE ANOTHER DARRY BREAKDOWN SONG I’M LOVING THE VULNERABILITY THAT WE NEVER SAW IN THE BOOK

Soda I love you

URGH SODA’S VOICE IT’S JUST SO ALGSJDFDHSKDLASDFKLS MY BEAUTIFUL BOY

Lil brother therapy session

“We gotta get our brother HOOOOOMEEEE” Soda your voice is just so phenomenal I love you

THE HARMONIESSSSSSS

“We need you more than ever now / don’t go throwing in the towel” you go Soda encourage your brother therapy friend king

Someone give these boys a hug for me I love them

THE HARMONIES MY HEART

Soda’s Letter - 9.5/10

THE INSTRUMENTAL ALONE MADE ME SAID “OH NOOOO D’:”

“Ponyboy this house ain’t a home without you” OH YOU’RE JUST GONNA BREAK MY HEART JUST LIKE THAT

“Your brother needs you just as much as you need him / and brother we ain’t doing so good alone” MY HEART

The vulnerability in this moment I can picture soda just in tears I’m sure that’s not how it’s set but let me have this okay

THE HARMONIES

“P.S. Say hey to Johnny for us :D”

URGH TOO SHORT AGAIN

Hoods Turned Heroes - 10/10

THE INSTRUMENTAL IS ALR FIRE WOAH

WAIT IS THIS CURLY WHAT’S-HIS-NAME???? OR HIS BROTHER?? WTV HIS NAME IS???

HIS VOICE IS FIRE NO MATTER WHO HE IS

This is actually such a banger no fair

“SOMEONE GOT ROBBED / SOMEONE GOT MUGGED / SOMEONE HAD A RUN IN WITH THE GREASER HOOD”

Gosh I love tenors literally so much 😭

WAYYYY TO SHORT OH MY GOOSH

Hopeless War / Trouble - 10/10

THIS SOUNDS LIKE ANOTHER BOYGENIUS SONG JUST FROM THE FIRST LIKE 2 SECONDS

PREPPING FOR EMOTIONAL DESTRUCTION

Uh-oh another song to kin

I love them

“Now that Johnny’s hurt and Bob has died / when will we be satisfied?” MY HEART

THIS CHORUS CHERRY YOU’RE KILLING ME

THE MOOD CHANGE????

OH MY GOSH THE INSTRUMENTAL

THE STRINGGGSSSSS (as a cello player i’m deceasing)

“DO IT FOR JOHNNY”

Little Brother - 9.7/10

ONCE AGAIN the bass + drum combo killing me

OOO THE EMOTION DALLY

“Who would they beat on / if we weren’t around?”

THE FALSETTO????

“Little brother / sorry I failed you / i could not save you / no i can’t even save myself” DALLY???? ARE YOU OKAY BABE???

I can just picture him absolutely UNRAVELING at the point, javert-style

“They can’t take nothin’ more from me / If I ain’t got you / then I ain’t got nothin’ else” EXCUSE ME?????

“If anything was fair / you would still be here” DYING

DALLY YOUR VOICE I LOVE YOU

THE EERIE STRINGS USFJDLKFJGKFSDJ THE ORCHESTRA KID IN ME IS DECEASING

THE TENSION IN THE MUSIC??? THE BUILD UP

OH MY GOSH??

“JOHNNY CAN YOU SEE ME NOWWWWWW”

WAS THAT A TRAIN??? THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS IN THE BOOK????

I’M SO CONFUSED AND SAD ALL AT THE SAME TIME?????

MY BOY????? COME BACKKK?????

Stay Gold - 10/10

JOHNNY???? BABE?????

“Swore I wasn’t ready to die / turns out I was wrong” LITERALLY STOP I’M SOBBING

Once again all I can think about is Phoebe Bridgers

“When you’re young / and the world is new / it’s easy to forget when all you’re tryna do is make it through”

Wuh-oh kinning a song again

“I’ll hold on to the good / cause I’ve made peace with all the bad”

THE HARMONIES I’M IN TEARS

“There’s still a whole lotta good in the world. Tell Dally. I don’ think he knows”

The harmonies and you can hear like the strain and emotion in Pony’s voice

YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DO THAT TO ME

Finale (Tulsa ‘67) - 9.7/10

YES FULL-CIRCLE MOMENT I LOVE YOU

“I use to idolize the actors on the screen / I looked like Newman like a king / and now I look at what my brothers did for me / they’re the reason I’m standing right now”

“Darrel you’re the toughest guy I know / it just took me too long to see / Soda you’re this family’s heart and soul / can you imagine how proud Mom and Dad must be?”

THE MONOLOGUE???? BABE???? SOMEONE HOLD ME I’M FALLING APART

“This is TUL-SA NINTEEN SIXTY SEVEN” will never cease to get me

DYING LITERALLY SHUT UP PONYBOY I LOVE YOU

“STAYYY GOOOOOLLLLDDDDDD”

Orchestra i love you never change

IN CONCLUSION:

DARRY AND SODA I LITERALLY LOVE YOU SO MUCH

JOHNNY COME BACK BABY I MISS YOU

I didn’t get enough Randy but maybe that’s just me

ORCHESTRA FREAKING PHENOMENAL

#i'm gonna cry #in tears #sobbing #the outsiders #the outsiders musical #i love you

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waywardxwords · 1 year

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Part Four

Part 4 of the Highway to Hell series Word Count: 2,374 Ratings/Warnings: Some cursing, I promise it will build more in the next chapter - this had to be a little touch of filler before the story picks up!

Sam and Dean had only been gone for a few hours. Castiel had sent them back to 1978, just like her vision had predicted. She couldn’t help but wonder if her vision had encouraged them to go. Dean had tried to assure her it hadn’t, that they would have gone back to 1978 with or without her dream. But the thought still crossed her mind.

In the meantime, she had to return to life as normal. Castiel had said it was important. So, she sat at her cubicle in the newsroom, just staring at the cursor blinking on the screen. Her teeth gnawed on her thumb nail, a bad habit she had picked up years ago and did aimlessly at this point.

“Hey, stranger,” the voice of her closest colleague broke her gaze. Connor Markham was someone she had worked with for years. After interning together, they landed jobs at the same newspaper. It was bittersweet–she was thankful to see Connor after the last forty-eight hours she had endured, but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t lie to Connor. But she also knew without a shadow of doubt, there was no way she could tell him the truth.

“Hey,” she breathed, hoping her voice sounded stronger than it felt.

“Where the heck have you been?” A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, which gave her relief. So far, he wasn’t asking any questions.

“Oh, you know,” she cleared her throat and glanced down at her keyboard. “I, uh, I had some old friends come into town. They surprised me, so I completely blanked on reaching out.”

“Oh, nice!” Connor seemed surprised. She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t really the kind to have many friends in general, let alone out-of-town friends. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.” His smile…something was different. She wasn’t sure if she was just being paranoid or if something was off. Either way, she didn’t have much time to think about it before Connor’s phone began to ring. “We’ll catch up later.” He whispered before rolling back to his cubicle in his computer chair.

Her teeth found the inside of her cheek–another bad habit–as her brain went back to thinking about Dean and Sam, like why no one had called yet. She thought for sure they should be back by now. With a quick glance at her cell phone, she released the flesh she had grasped between her teeth and dialed the number she had added to her contacts before she headed to work that morning.

“Hello?” She heard his comforting drawl.

“Bobby?” Her voice dropped low so no one around her could hear.

His voice dripped with concern as her name sounded through the receiver. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said quickly, she hadn’t meant to startle or worry him. “Sorry, I was just calling to see if you had heard anything from Sam or Dean? Or even Cas?” Her fingers found a loose thread on the hem of her blouse. She pulled at it gently, careful not to cause a tear.

A sigh fell from his lips, relieved she was alright. “Not yet, darlin’. These things take time, you know,” he tried to reassure her. Her silence told him that she wasn’t buying it. “There’s a whole lotta hurry up and wait in this life. I know it’s frustrating and can really keep ya up at night,” she heard what sounded like the pour of coffee in the background. “Trust me, I’ve been dealing with these idjits for a long time.”

A small smile and chuckle came from her lips as her eyes stayed focused on the small thread from her blouse.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is this…I know it’s hard to be patient, but there’s not much else you can do. And take it with a grain of salt, but I’ve known Sam and Dean a long time. They always find a way back,” he sounded confident…at least, she thought he sounded confident. That would have to be good enough.

“Thanks, Bobby,” she breathed into the receiver.

“You call me if you need anything, you hear?”

A smile tugged at her lips once more. “I will, thanks again…and you’ll call if you hear anything?” She questioned nervously, her teeth finding that same spot on her bottom lip once more.

“You bet.”

They said their goodbyes and she turned her focus back to her computer screen. The feeling of uselessness set in–there had to be something she could do to help. The boys had already assured her she was doing more than enough, but she felt about as useful as a gardener watering weeds. She wanted so badly to start researching something, anything. But she knew she couldn’t…not on her work computer. She could just imagine that conversation with Human Resources. There were no good explanations she could come up with to explain away her Google search history for the things she wanted to look up.

Before she could even consider searching something on her cell phone, a strange, tingly sensation came over her–a heavy pressure on her chest. It practically took her breath away as her eyes widened. Everything went black, but then she saw something. It was almost like an out-of-body experience.

She was walking down the same street she would when she left work for the day, headed to the parking garage. This was from today…she had on the same skinny jeans, black blouse and leather jacket. She was distracted with her cell phone, reading and typing things feverishly as she walked. It must have been important, she usually had more awareness of her surroundings when she was alone.

But then something–or someone, rather–caught her eye. Connor was following behind her. He had left about five feet between them. That was odd, if anything, Connor would usually walk along beside her. There was another man, someone she didn’t recognize, walking just next to Connor. They exchanged a glance.

As if she was watching CCTV security footage, her view shifted and the two men hurried their pace. In one swift movement, they grabbed her. She could hear herself scream as they pulled her into an alley. From another perspective, she was back in her body–her eyes looking into both of theirs. In an instant, they flashed black.

“So, you’re the new prophet, huh?” Connor, or the demon possessing him, scowled.

And with that, she inhaled a sharp breath and steadied herself with her palms flat on her desk. She sputtered a few breaths as her eyes moved across her desk. That was a first. She dialed the last number once more.

“Hey, it’s me…I-I’m sorry for calling you again,” she moved away from her desk, her eyes carefully on Connor–or whatever he was–as she passed by.

“You alright?” This time he could tell something was wrong, you knew by the sound of his voice.

“Uh, not really,” you dropped your voice to a whisper. “I uh, I…saw something.” You pressed the ‘Down’ button on the elevator, but after a moment of processing, you decided against it and headed for the stairwell.

“You had a vision?” He filled in the blanks.

“I think so?” The affliction to your voice let him know you were questioning it. “I didn’t see anything with Sam or Dean…it was me, I saw myself.”

“Balls,” Bobby grumbled. “Okay, listen to me very closely. I need to know everything you saw, alright?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled as her eyes moved around to make sure she hadn’t been followed into the stairwell. “I, uh, I was leaving work and walking to my car. I wasn’t paying attention but I was followed…they were…” she hesitated as she tried to catch her breath, partly from descending so many stairs so quickly, but also as she processed what she saw. “I don’t know, Bobby…maybe it was like a bad dream? Or something? Finding out all of the…information I’ve recently learned has been a little overwhelming. Maybe my brain is trying to figure it out…”

“Slow down, girl,” Bobby breathed as he sounded a bit out of breath. She assumed he was probably rolling around in his wheelchair trying to get to a book or his journal. “The people following you. How many were there?”

“Two,” she answered quickly.

“Did you notice anything off about ‘em?” The sound of pages flipping in the background sounded in the ear piece.

“They…they had black eyes, Bobby,” her voice dropped even lower as she reached the ground floor. There was a major pause, and silence on the other line. “Bobby?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. She could almost envision Bobby rubbing at his eyes in frustration. “Well, shit. Okay, where are you right now?”

“I’m outside my office building in Sioux Falls,” she answered quickly.

“Alright, I want you to get in your car and head straight to my house,” Bobby said firmly. “Do not stop for anything, you hear me? You just drive. You got salt or iron on you?”

“I grabbed some salt packets from my desk,” she said meekly.

“Balls,” he groaned once more. “Alright, well…just get here, would ya?”

“I’ll do my best,” she breathed and continued on her way towards the parking garage. Unlike her vision, she was very much aware of her surroundings this time. In the midst of the people walking around downtown Sioux Falls, she spotted Connor (or possessed Connor) opening the door to the building. She was able to dip around the corner and quickened her pace in the alley towards her car. “They’re coming, Bobby,” her words slipped out in a terrified whisper.

“Keep your hand on the salt, girl. You throw it straight at their face if they get close. It will deter them at least for a moment,” he answered, the frustration that there was nothing he could do seeped through his words. “God dammit,” he muttered.

She heard something happening on the other side of the phone. “Bobby? Bobby, are you okay?”

“They’re back,” he breathed, relief coming through. She could hear chatter on the other side–something was wrong with Castiel. But it sounded like the boys were in one piece. “Hey, we don’t got time for that,” Bobby chirped back at them. She heard Dean say her name. “She’s bein’ followed. Two demons.”

She heard her name louder this time. Dean was holding the phone. “Talk to me,” he breathed, his voice gruff. She felt bad for a moment–he had just been through his own personal hell, but now he was in a position where he had to help her.

At that point, she was running to her car. She was too scared to look behind her but she assumed Connor would be getting close at this point.

“There’s two of them, Dean. I-I have like, seven packets of salt which I can’t imagine will get me very far,” she was breathless as she pulled open the driver’s door of her sedan, silently thanking God for keyless entry.

“Okay, listen to me,” Dean’s voice was so firm it startled her. She fumbled with the lock, slammed her foot on the brake and pushed the ‘Start’ button. “You in the car?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she hit the gas. Connor had just run into the parking garage–he stood in the middle of the road. “Dean…they’re here, he’s standing in the exit.”

“You run him over,” Dean said matter-of-factly, his voice gruff and deep. “You have to run him over.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a tear drop from her chin onto the denim material covering her thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

The tires squealed against the concrete of the parking garage. She watched as Connor’s body rolled up the hood, onto the windshield and then rolled off the back. Instinctively, she hit the brakes and looked behind her at his mangled body.

It wasn’t until Dean said her name again that she was brought back to reality. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” she breathed, but that turned to a gasp when she saw Connor’s body start to move again. He was on his hands and knees, pushing himself to a standing position. “He’s still alive, Dean…”

“It’s the demon,” his voice was so rigid. A cry fell off of her lips, and it softened him. “I know how hard this is, sweetheart. It’s confusing and I get that, I do. But you have to keep going. Do not stop.”

His instructions were clear and she knew deep down he was right. She sucked up her feelings and turned back in her seat to keep driving. Standing by the car now was the second man, the man from her vision. She hit the gas and refused to look back.

“Okay, Dean. I’m on my way,” she said shakily.

“Good girl,” the pride he felt made its way over the line. She couldn’t put her finger on it yet, but there was something about the way he said ‘good girl’ that elicited a shudder deep within her. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you? I can, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, maybe…just in case,” her voice came out in a whisper.

“Okay, then,” she heard him get settled. It sounded like people were talking in the background but it got quiet. She figured he must have moved to another room.

“God, I’m an ass,” she sighed. “Are you okay? Sam and Cas, too? What happened? I’m assuming you stopped Anna, since you’re back…” she hadn’t realized they could have just vanished, had things not worked out as they planned.

“We’re…okay,” he said simply. “Cas is running low on his angel juice, but we’ll be alright. And yeah, we stopped her.”

She could tell there was more to the story, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it at that moment.

“I’m glad you’re all okay…” she nibbled on her bottom lip again as she watched the light start to change in front of her. “Shit, red light.”

“Run it,” Dean’s voice was firm again. Her eyes danced in the rearview mirror.

“Dean, I think it’s fine–”

Your name fell from his lips. “Please, run it.”

And so, she did.

------------------

Read Part Five here!

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prismaticpichu · 1 year

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A genuine favorite of mine: Sane Sephiroth gets a wing and the main inconvenience is that it reacts to his EMOTIONS. He's trying to be cool but he's nervous and it SHOWS that. Stuff like that! What's your take on poor Sephiroth who can't hide his emotions?

Oooooh oooh oooh oooooooooooh!!! That is SUCH an adorable premise 😭 And man can I see poor “lock those feelings up tight” Sephiroth having some trouble! If y’all haven’t plz go read One-Winged Feathers are EVERYWHERE by the amazing Holly you see here!! The story follows CC-era Seph sprouting his wing and like the title suggests shenanigans sure do ensue and ahhhhh it is such a cute ride!! Anywho back to the show.

🪶 🪶 🪶

Unlike his emotionally-barren, insane, pyromanic bipolar half, CC-Sephiroth has a lot of emotions swimming around in that heart of his. Sure his overall toughness (and swagger) isn’t a facade—this guy IS strong as heck. But at the same time… he is also squishy. He can be vulnerable, just like any other person out there. He can get overwhelmed. And the only reason people don’t see this is because he is stellar at, as corny as it is, bottling those jello-like feelings inside.

So! What happens when you make those emotions into a transparent window case for the world to see…?

First off, Sephiroth can’t figure out how to put the darn thing away. He tries desperately to find a way to tuck it in—to furl it, or fold it, or SOMETHING—but all his efforts are in vain (and ends up tripping over the couch + keeling over three lamps in this endeavor). It’s also through this first encounter that Sephiroth realizes just how intertwined his emotions are with his wing. The more his panic rose, the more his wing stiffened and beat and thrashed.

And this realization terrifies him.

The remainder of the day is spent at his place, trying to train the wing like a mischievous pet to NOT mimic his emotions. He tries deep-breathing, relaxing himself into a calm, steady rhythm, until his wing is able to slacken…….only for the telephone to ring and for the black pinion to jolt out of complete and utter fright (knocking over a replacement lamp in the process). He tries physically scolding it like some kinda mantra—“I am not anxious, I am NOT anxious”—only for the wing to still quiver in complete defiance. Poor thing. He eventually surrenders, slumping against the wall with his face in his hands. And the wing sags like a wilted plant right beside him.

It isn’t long until Genesis & Angeal (once the, y’know, initial shock passes upon finding him) catch onto the wing’s transparency. And this, this right here, leads to a whole lotta denial in the coming days as Sephiroth continues to not know how to retract properly. They constantly catch sight of the thing quivering, or sagging, or going completely stiff, and always end up approaching Sephiroth afterwards. Sephiroth can’t even believe how ineffective his stone-hard, ay-okay face has become. It’s practically useless. Useless. Genesis & Angeal are always able to know when messages from Hojo were sent to him (annoyed twitching), or when new press conferences were scheduled (quivering), or that one time when he overheard one of the cadets talking about the “M” word (somber wilting). It’s exposing. It’s weak. It’s unbecoming. It’s…

Cathartic.

One thing that Sephiroth can’t deny is the weight that lifts from his chest after talking about these triggering burdens. Without any way to conceal them, without any way to deny them, his two buddies always manage to chip the answer out of him. And… and… it’s not bad, being able to confide those things. Not at all. It’s healing, for Angeal to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, or to hear Genesis say he would throw Hojo in an industrial shredder on his behalf. So healing that he begins to wonder why he would let those burdens plague him alone.

Eventually, Sephiroth manages to guide the wing back into his shoulder. But just like the stray feathers that lingered behind, a new lesson remains with the raven-esque SOLDIER. He doesn’t need the wing to quiver for him to confide in his friends. He doesn’t need to grit his teeth and bite out “fine” for every “are you okay?” thrown at him. He knows better now. Why it took for a flipping bird wing to burst from his shoulder to learn this, Shiva only knows.

…

Of course, on the occasion that the wing DOES come out, it’s still not any less emotionally-tangled than before.

Genesis has recorded the wing:

• Swaddling Sephiroth

• Joyously vibrating

• And he’s pretty sure the thing slapped him on its own accord when he called him a woman

#sephiroth #ffvii #crisis core #asks #ty!!#angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 #for the record everyone else is ShinRa kinda just goes ‘meh’ when seeing the wing

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ace-of-zaun · 1 year

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The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 7

Silco x f!reader - 8k words - SFW

cw: fluff, soft silco, jealous/possessive silco, kissing, tiny bit of angst, suggestive themes, innuendos, self doubt, the author is an idiot

a/n: how has it been eight months? What the heck have i been doing for eight months??? i genuinely thought it’d been like four months since i last updated this fic, i am so sorry. To make up for it, please take a very indulgent, fluffy chapter featuring a whole lotta kissing with our favourite rat man ♡

It’s just shy of a week later when you find yourself in Silco’s office, sitting beside the man himself, resisting the urge to play a cheeky game of footsie with him as your legs share the space beneath his desk.

Neither one of you have labelled whatever this new development in your relationship is, but given that you spend a considerable amount of time kissing each other until you’re both breathless, you’re not in any particular rush to hurry things along.

You’re just happy that you can finally taste those luscious lips on a daily basis.

Having just finished a tear-jerkingly boring meeting with a client who had droned on and on in the most monotone voice you’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing, you’re more than happy to escort him out of the office.

Silco saunters after you, following your tense form as you all but shove the client out the door, ensuring you keep your tried-and-tested ‘customer service smile’ plastered across your face.

Whilst you might want to wring the client’s neck for torturing you with boredom, it would probably be bad for business if you actually did… Then again, you’re pretty sure Silco wouldn’t mind. In fact, if he was as bored as he seemed for the whole meeting, you think he might even endorse it.

What’s the point of being king anyway if you’re not going to make it illegal to bore you to death?

The door is finally shut with a resounding click and you’re given approximately three seconds to turn back to face the stained glass window, before you’re being pushed up against the door, Silco’s lips moulding to yours instantly.

You’re startled for a very brief moment, but you soon find yourself sighing into the kiss, instinctively winding your arms up and around his neck until you can gently tug at the ends of his slicked-back hair with each movement of his lips.

At this point, you think you might be addicted to the way Silco kisses you like he’s trying to devour you. Every single time. Without fail.

His fingertips deftly move from your hair down to your waist, roaming your body as if he can’t decide his favourite way to hold you.

Far too soon (although, some might argue not soon enough by the way you’re starting to feel dizzy from rapidly running out of breath), Silco reluctantly pulls himself from your lips, resting his forehead against yours.

His good eye flutters shut whilst the corrupted one is trained on where his arm is snaked around your waist, holding your body firmly against his. It’s like he’s utterly drunk on you, breathless from your scent.

“I wish we could do this forever,” you whisper happily, using your thumbs to lightly trace circles on the delicate skin behind his ear.

Silco smiles for a brief moment before he dips his head down to give you another quick peck on the lips. He stays close to your lips, almost as if they’re magnetised.

“As do I, my darling,” he murmurs, his other hand coming up to rest on your hip bone. “Unfortunately I must attend to an incident at one of the docks. Would you mind taking care of this afternoon’s meeting for me?”

Immediately, you tense up at the mention of going to a meeting alone, a flood of anxiety rushing through your body.

“Um, actually, I can’t,” you say nervously, your eyes dropping down to your shoes.

Silco lifts his head and pulls back slightly. You can feel him looking down at you with a confused frown.

“You can’t?” he repeats.

“Nope. Sorry, I’m super busy,” you emphasise, looking absolutely anywhere but his face.

You know that if you even glance at those beautiful eyes for just one sliver of a second, you’ll crumble.

“Busy with what?” he probes, undoubtedly giving you The Look, as his voice drops to a concerned rumble.

You employ the classic hide-and-seek technique and refuse to meet his gaze. You can’t see me if I can’t see you.

“I’ve got to see a man about a dog!” you blurt out in response, your panicked mind spitting out a ridiculous phrase instead of an actual reason.

“I beg your pardon?” Silco asks incredulously.

“Yep. And now that I think about it, I’m starting to feel a bit sick, so actually I might have to go lie down for a bit. You know, before I go see the man about the dog,” you ramble, your brain switching off in the face of panic.

Then, you subtly attempt to wiggle out of his hold, planning to flee into the streets of Zaun in the hopes that you’ll somehow end up at a pet shop, (the idea of getting a dog incredibly appealing at this particular moment in time), but find it a difficult task given how Silco is currently pressing you into the door, hips pressed solidly against yours.

He gently grasps your chin between his fingers and pulls you into meeting his gaze. His eyes search your face intently. Then, only a few moments later, he appears to have found something because suddenly he is taking your hand in his and wordlessly leading you over to the couch.

You allow yourself to be herded over to the plush seat and resign yourself to your fate when he sits you down and moulds you into his side.

A large hand soothingly runs up and down your waist. You melt into him, pulling your legs up so your knees rest on his thighs.

“Why are you trying to avoid this meeting?” he asks, his voice low and soft.

Of course, your first instinct is to lie. But you’d promised to tell him the truth about your worries all that time ago on the pier and you weren’t in the business of going back on your word.

You sigh heavily and begin to fiddle with one of the buttons on his waistcoat.

“I’ve just… I’ve been really nervous about going to meetings again,” you admit, fidgeting to hide your embarrassment. “I mean, this is twice now a client has tried to kill me and, I don’t know… I’m just worried one day they’ll succeed.”

Part of you feels ridiculous.

He’s a crime lord, for Janna’s sake. He runs a cut-throat, criminal enterprise - what were you expecting; sunshine and roses?

Silco is clearly upset by your confession given the way he sighs and holds you tighter, his arms wrapping protectively around your frame.

“Oh sweetheart,” he mumbles into your hair. “I should have prepared you better.”

It sends a pang ringing through your chest. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad.

“It’s fine, Sil. Honestly,” you insist, wrapping your own arms around his waist.

Silco pulls back from the hug and looks down at you, his brow furrowed.

“It’s not fine, darling. You have every right to feel worried.”

One hand lets go of you to snake up your body until he’s holding your cheek, thumb tracing your cheekbone in a gentle caress.

“I promise I will keep you safe," he tells you, and you completely believe him. “And I will see to it that I personally train you in the basics of defence."

You throw your arms around him again, squeezing him tightly as you press your face into his chest, inhaling his scent.

“Okay,” you nod against his chest.

Honestly, some training sounds like a great idea. You’re not quite sure how you’ve gotten this far in living in Zaun without knowing at least some basic defence moves. Your tactic so far has just been to, you know… run.

Which had honestly worked a treat right up until the point you were hit on the back of the head with a shovel and tied to a chair…

But, then again look how that turned out. Working with and kissing the cutest crime lord in the whole of Zaun? What more could a girl ask for?

Well, now that you’re asking, maybe a-

Zaun’s-Cutest-Crime-Lord breaks your train of thought before it can run away from you entirely.

“I won’t force you to go to this afternoon’s meeting; Sevika can cover for you.”

“No, no, I can do it,” you say, sitting up to look at him once more.

He appears unsure, his eyes narrowing slightly as if it’ll help him suss out any lies.

“I’ll be alright,” you reassure him. “I just need to channel my inner you and stare at them menacingly until they spontaneously combust.”

You even give him a demonstration to further ease his concern.

Silco rolls his eyes dramatically, but his fingers betray his true feelings because they begin to trace worried little patterns on your knee.

Your heart aches for how caring this man can be (if, and only if, you’re an ex-kitchen-utensil-salesperson or a sweet little girl with blue hair and a morbid fascination with weapons).

Completely unbidden, a cheeky little idea pops into your head and you find yourself purposefully putting on a serious face.

“But now that I’m thinking about it… I guess there is one more thing that you could do, you know, to help me feel better about the meeting,” you say in a small voice, goading him into turning to face you fully.

“Anything, my dove,” he answers solemnly, his brows furrowed in concentration.

You climb into his lap and weave your fingers through the dark strands of his hair.

“This.”

Your lips crash into his for the umpteenth time this morning.

And boy, does it make you feel better about your meeting.

Surprisingly, the meeting goes better than expected, with no obvious hitches and definitely no murder attempts (from either party). Maybe your newfound meeting success is due to you finally perfecting Silco’s trademark death stare after practising it in the mirror for a whole two minutes.

Or maybe it’s because you’d had your best buddy Sevika standing just over your shoulder the entire time. And whilst her style may be different from your lovable rat man’s, there’s no doubt that Sevika can be intimidating.

Perhaps you should be learning from her instead of Silco…

Is it all in the dangerous glare?

Or is it all in the cloak?

You make a mental note to ask her the next time you spot her in the bar.

Before you know it, the week has flown by, and you’re almost back into the groove of things. Sure, meetings still make your stomach feel like it’s on the world’s longest rollercoaster. But you’re definitely gaining a bit more confidence with each one.

Just before leaving for today’s meeting, you’d kissed Silco at his desk, biting down a smile when he leant forward slightly in his chair in an attempt to chase your lips when you pulled away.

It had almost felt… domestic. Like you’re an old, married couple (without the constant bickering, of course). But you’re none of those things. You’re definitely not married, not really an official couple, and even though Silco might be an old codger, you’re not going to be the one to tell him.

And you don’t want to potentially ruin things by asking him to put a label on your relationship if he isn’t comfortable with that.

Besides, you know right now you need to focus on your work, not the intricacies of your relationship status.

When discussing the newest client with Silco, you had learned that he was a businessman named Isaac and that he was looking to become another distributor of Shimmer. And your job was to find out exactly what he wanted out of this deal, so you could begin to draw up a contract that benefited both parties.

Isaac had requested a specific address for you to meet which Silco had recognised as a café along the Promenade, one he’d visited before with Jinx. And since neither your partner-in-crime or your best buddy could join you on this outing (both being called to deal with another ‘meeting’), you immediately felt better that you’d be in a public place rather than a shady warehouse or dock.

Even better, the Promenade’s closer to the bridge, which meant you were less likely to run into any questionable individuals or people who might wrongfully mistake your identity, knock you out, and tie you to a chair.

Of course, you’re beyond nervous about going to your first meeting alone since the knife incident. But you’ll have guards with you and plenty of witnesses in a busy café on the off-chance that anything does go wrong.

But when you finally arrive at the pre-arranged address, you’re surprised to find a large building that is clearly undergoing renovation, instead of a bustling café. The sign has been removed and the large windows are covered with big cloth sheets, likely protecting them from the fresh coat of paint on the walls surrounding them.

Before you can question whether your driver has gotten lost, you spot a finely dressed gentleman outside the building, looking down at his pocket watch, one hand leaning on an intricately designed cane.

He’s definitely older than Silco, given that his hair is more salt than pepper. And there’s a sharp look about him. Like he’s constantly evaluating and making mental calculations on how he can use any and every piece of information to benefit him.

With the carriage parked further down the street, you approach the man with your guards trailing behind you, studying him as much as you can to gather any clues about him. It never hurts to have a little profile on exactly who you’re going to be dealing with.

“Isaac?” you say, when you get close enough for him to hear.

The man turns to look at you, his eyes trailing up and down your frame like he’s drinking in every single detail. Truthfully, it’s a bit unnerving. Like he can see into your mind.

(You hope he can’t. It’s filled with Silco’s thighs, pizza wheels, and the constant question of who would win in a fight between a bear and a shark.)

“You’re the delegate sent by Silco?” he responds with one eyebrow raised, his voice smooth and low.

By now, you’re used to people being surprised that you work for Silco. You still don’t really give off that scary crime lord vibe that he seems to exude so effortlessly.

You look down at yourself and then back up at him, smiling just a touch too brightly.

“Yep! Last time I checked.”

Isaac gazes at you in amusement until you tell him your name and hold your hand out for him to shake.

Instead, he smirks and takes your hand, only to bend down to kiss your knuckles.

“Enchanted,” he says. The low, smooth tone coils around you, making you shudder slightly.

Honestly, it makes you feel a little bit gross considering you don’t know him, but you reason that he’s probably just doing it to raise his margin of profit. Besides, it’s better to play along and get on his good side, if only for the sake of the deal.

Plus, it sure as hell beats people trying to stab you in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Likewise,” you respond.

“I hope you don’t mind if my fan club quickly checks you for any weapons,” you tell him, gesturing to the three guards standing by you. “We’ve had some trouble in the past.”

“Of course,” Isaac responds, with a graceful nod of his head.

And while the guards search him, you suddenly realise that the building before you is definitely not open to the public. If you go inside with this man, you’ll have no witnesses like you were hoping. But you do have three massive bodyguards, which ought to be enough.

Right?

Once the guards give Isaac the all clear, you glance up at the building in front of you.

“I was under the impression we would be meeting at a cafe,” you say, trying to keep your tone even to hide your nerves. “My-”

You catch yourself, unsure of how you were going to complete that sentence.

Your what, exactly?

Boss? Boyfriend?

Man-you-annoy-on-a-daily-basis-until-he-kisses-you-just-to-get-you-to-shut-up?

(Only 2/3 of those are correct and you categorically refuse to acknowledge which one is untrue.)

“Silco told me he’s visited before,” you settle on.

“Ah, yes. I believe the previous owners used the space for that purpose,” Isaac replies, following your gaze.

That catches you by surprise.

“Oh, you own the building now?”

“And the one next door,” he says with a look that borders on smug. “I’m in the process of joining the two spaces to create a luxury lounge bar for exclusive clientele.”

Now, that is not what you were expecting. A luxury lounge bar sounds far too fancy for Zaun. An establishment much more suited to the residents of Piltover.

Your astonishment must be evident in your expression because Isaac chuckles, low and full of mischief.

“Would you care for a quick tour before we begin?” he asks, holding out his arm for you to take.

You glance up at his inviting expression and decide that you wouldn’t mind a quick tour, if only because you’re damn curious how a street café is going to be transformed into a high class lounge bar.

A polite smile crosses your face.

“Sounds lovely, lead the way.”

True to his word, Isaac had given you a brief tour of the newly joined building, showing you the main bar lounge as well as the myriad little side rooms that you can just picture housing rustic leather sofas and antique fireplaces.

Isaac had continued his flirty demeanour throughout, offering you an exclusive, black card membership when the bar’s ready to open, drinks on the house every time you visit - the lot.

Of course you’d humbly refused it all, but you kept playing along, allowing him to lead you from room to room with your guards silently following after you, sizing up each room and Isaac’s every action.

Now, sitting in the main lounge at a table that is half booth seating, half chairs, (no prizes for guessing where you’d chosen to sit), you begin to discuss the arrangements of a contract.

Isaac tells you that he’s looking to sell high grade Shimmer in his bar, all the while making slightly passive aggressive and insulting comments about night clubs, including, but not limited to, the very one you call home.

You’re just about to ask him about the number of clientele he’s expecting to handle each week when a commotion at the door causes you to look across the room, only to find yourself looking at a very familiar face, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

You struggle not to grin at the sight of him, and though his own face remains passive, you can spot the slight changes in his body language that reveals how pleased he is to see you again.

Gods, is this boy obsessed with you or what? Mans follows you about like a lost puppy.

“I hope you’re treating my negotiator well,” Silco says, his voice a rumble that makes your stomach do flips no matter how many times you hear it. “She’s a very valuable…asset.”

A glare is shot his way for having the nerve to call you an asset, but Silco ignores it. No matter, you’ll get him back for it later.

Luckily, Isaac appears to be unperturbed by the intrusion.

“I can assure you, she’s been treated like royalty,” he says, a little hint of… something in his voice. You can’t quite tell.

Silco joins you at the table, sliding in beside you on the plush booth seat, making sure your thigh rests flush alongside his.

Assuming he finished his meeting much more quickly than expected and wanted to make sure your own meeting was going well, you continue discussing the contract with Isaac as you had been before.

And Isaac continues to make casual flirty comments, which you laugh along with to maintain the banter and rapport you’d already build up over the course of the meeting. You don’t mean anything by it, but sometimes a bit of flattery is beneficial in this business.

So you laugh at Isaac’s jokes and you smile at every over-the-top compliment.

In fact, you barely even notice the man beside you (who has been uncharacteristically quiet since crashing the meeting), until you make the mistake of leaning across the table to casually touch Isaac’s arm.

All of a sudden, Silco’s hand grips your thigh under the table, not too tight for it to hurt, but tight enough for you to snap your head to look at him in shock.

But he doesn’t even glance at you, his piercing eyes glued onto Isaac.

You immediately worry you’ve done something wrong and you’re about to ask his input on the deal when Silco speaks, his voice far more steady than you were expecting given his intense demeanour.

“I apologise for the interruption, but I require a moment alone with my negotiator.”

Isaac appears just as surprised as you are, but he recovers quickly and clears his throat.

“Of course. You’re more than welcome to talk in the room next door, if you wish.”

He gestures to a door that you remember leads to a little side room.

Silco nods and quickly slides out of the seat to stand. You follow him, sending a quick, apologetic smile to Isaac in an attempt to hide your concern.

Once you’re standing, Silco turns to acknowledge the man still seated at the table.

“Do excuse us,” he says courteously.

Isaac nods and with that, you’re being gently herded to the door, your anxiety increasing with each step.

Did you say something wrong?

You enter the sparse room, going to stand by one of the tables that is covered in a dust sheet.

Silco shuts the door behind you (waving off the guards who try to follow) and you worry that he’s upset with the way the deal is going, even though from your perspective, it had been going quite well until Silco had interrupted.

You turn to face him with a worried frown.

“Are you not happy with the terms?” you ask him gravely. “I know we didn’t really-”

Silco crosses the room in a few, long strides and grabs you by the waist, picking you up so he can seat you atop the nearest table.

You gasp in surprise and Silco’s lips collide with yours.

He kisses you with a searing amount of passion, standing between your legs until there’s barely any space between your bodies. His hands switch from running through your hair to grasping at your waist and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, you cry out, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You match his movements eagerly, if not a little bit bewilderedly.

When he finally pulls back for breath, the both of you stare at one another, panting.

“What was that for?” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving against his.

“You’re mine,” he responds in a low rumble that shoots heat straight through you.

He begins to trail wet kisses across your neck and you struggle to think straight with your heart pounding.

What does he mean? Of course you’re his, why is he-

It suddenly dawns on you the reason for this sudden bout of possessiveness.

He’s jealous.

You place your hands on his chest, trying to stop him for a moment.

“Wait. Do you think I’m flirting with this guy?”

“You are flirting with him,” Silco all but growls, his hands landing on your lower back where he jerks you forward on the table until you’re flush with him.

“To get a good deal!” you protest. “I’m just preten-”

A sloppy kiss on your neck makes you jump when his teeth sink into your skin, surely leaving an obvious bruise.

“Silco!” you cry out, trying to keep your volume as quiet as possible.

“Pretend or not,” he grumbles against your neck. “I don’t share.”

You breath catches and Silco leans away from you just enough to look you in the eyes, a delicious hint of lust betraying his intense expression.

“I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

Your eyes widen when your distracted brain finally catches his meaning.

“You- you want to be with me? In a relationship?” you ask in a daze.

Part of you feels silly for asking but you need to be sure.

“Yes.” he replies emphatically, returning to his previous ministrations of kissing along your collarbone. “If it were up to me, you’d never leave my side again.”

You think your heart might have just filled up and popped like a balloon.

He wants you to be his girlfriend.

Those pesky feelings are bubbling away inside you, almost to the point of being overwhelmed, so you resort to your tried and true method of coping.

Being a shitlord.

You gasp dramatically, tightening your grip on the strap at the back of his waistcoat, reaching up under his coat. Then, you let your voice drop to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper.

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

Silco slowly leans back and narrows his eyes at you in suspicion.

“Dare I even ask what you think it means?” he inquires sceptically.

“Are you asking me to… be more than just your kitchen utensil salesperson?”

The change in emotion is rapid and entirely theatrical. Silco rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, his whole body joining in the motion.

“I think I’ve changed my mind,” he comments flippantly.

Despite your grin, you grip onto him even tighter and wrap your legs around him like a koala.

“Nuh-uh, mister, no takesie backsies,” you say, smushing your face into his chest.

Silco’s head drops back to look at the ceiling, his hands falling to his sides in mock exasperation.

“Dear Janna, I fear I’ve made a grave mistake-” he begins.

“Oh?” you interrupt loudly. “Well, in that case, I think my new friend Isaac is more than up for a little bit of lip service.”

You let go of him and start to shuffle away from him so you can climb down from the table, but Silco immediately grabs onto you again and pulls you back against him, effectively trapping you in.

“Not on my watch,” he grunts in your ear, the delicious rumble going straight from his chest into yours.

Truth be told, you’re not entirely sure who initiates the next kiss, but before you know it, Silco has his hands in your hair again and is surely bruising your lips with how hard he kisses you.

Eventually, (reluctantly), you manage to convince him you need to finish the meeting, but with the promise that you can continue your endeavours the very minute you get home. Silco only agrees after you seal the deal with another quick kiss.

Finally straightening each other up until you’re more presentable, and with a lot of reassurance from Silco that no-one will be able to tell that you’ve basically spent the past five minutes snogging each other, you return back to the main lounge where Isaac is patiently waiting.

Isaac makes no mention of your extended ‘chat’ and you get right back into the meeting, this time with a much happier kingpin by your side.

It’s incredibly difficult not to show how giddy you are for the rest of the meeting. And it definitely doesn’t help that Silco decides to deliberately stroke up and down your thigh the whole time.

But you finish the meeting, promise Isaac you will send him a draft contract to review, and just about refrain from skipping out the door to the carriage where home and Silco’s gorgeous lips await you.

Once you’d finally arrived back home, your plans had been slightly waylaid by the fact that Jinx wanted to spend the rest of the evening with you both, which meant you’d had to postpone any plans made in Isaac’s bar.

Of course, you’d enjoyed the evening, as you always enjoyed spending time with Jinx and Silco. But you were also secretly pleased when Jinx had finally dropped to sleep in her bed after reading her no less than nine stories from her storybook.

The child had far too much energy.

On the way back to Silco’s office, you had quickly stopped by your bedroom, brushing your teeth and getting changed into your pyjamas so you could relax after such an exhausting day.

By the time you’d reached his office, Silco was already lounging on the sofa, his waistcoat and tie gone, looking just as tired as you felt.

But neither of you had wanted the evening to end just yet, so you’d climbed onto his lap and kissed him so gently, he couldn’t help but let out a content little sigh.

The two of you had quietly talked, with Silco’s long fingers softly carding through your hair until you’d found yourself falling asleep against him. Somewhere in the haze between sleep and awake, Silco had murmured that you should sleep in his bed, mumbling something about not wanting you to wake yourself up by walking back to your own bedroom.

You’d sleepily agreed, allowing him to gather you up in his arms and carry you to his bedroom (pointedly ignoring the fact that if he was going to carry you anyway, he could have just carried you down the hall to your own bedroom…)

But you much preferred the alternative.

Silco had laid you down on the soft sheets of his bed, disappearing for a few minutes to get himself washed and changed, and reappearing just as quickly to join you under the covers.

In the darkness of the room, Silco holding you in his arms like you were the most precious person in the whole world, you’d kissed slowly and deeply, like two lovers discovering each other for the first time.

Relying only on the feel of Silco’s lips and the quiet sighs brushing your cheek, you’d kissed him until you felt your body pulling you under, down into the murky depths of sleep.

He must have been able to tell that you were fighting it, because soon enough, he’d rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling in the tiny space between your lips, and whispered into the darkness of the room.

“Sleep, my lovely. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

For the first time in your life, you fell asleep with a tiny smile on your face, wrapped in the arms of a man you adored with your whole heart.

It was the best sleep you’d ever had.

But now, as low streaks of light begin to pour through the windows, you feel your body awakening, a slight ache in your limbs from your extended rest.

You blink yourself properly awake and soon become aware of the position you’re in. Silco is pressed with his chest against your back, a strong forearm slung around your waist, holding your body close to his.

Your legs are tangled together and you can feel each warm exhale of his breath on the back of your neck, tickling the fine hairs on your nape.

Still asleep.

Carefully turning in his hold until you’re facing each other, you admire how beautiful Silco looks when he’s asleep, all the tension that usually lines his face completely melted away.

If only he could be this relaxed all the time. It suits him.

You lean forward and delicately kiss his cheek, causing him to sigh and hold you even tighter.

Gods, you could honestly stay here forever.

Eventually, the bathroom calls, and you manage to pry yourself from his arms without waking him, completing your morning ritual in the little ensuite and even finding a spare toothbrush in the cupboards to freshen your mouth.

When you return to his bedroom, your feet padding softly against the wooden floorboards, you find him flat out on his back, snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open.

You grin and resist the urge to fetch a camera, instead picking the slightly less evil option of snooping around his bedroom.

Predictably, the furniture is dark and woodsy. And everything is neat enough. But not too neat that it doesn’t look lived in.

But the one thing that immediately draws your eye is the little writing desk placed in front of a tiny, stained glass window that looks out on the streets of Zaun.

You approach the desk quietly, your eyes ticking over the myriad little trinkets that are dotted over the surface.

Of course, there’s some notebooks, and fountain pens, and bottles of ink. But there’s also a few little boxes filled with their own treasures.

One contains a pair of reading glasses that almost make you squeal on the spot. (You are definitely forcing him to wear these at some point.)

Another houses lots of little curios that you’re certain will all have a story attached to them if you were to ask. Some pretty shells, a broken little toy, a stamped coin you don’t recognise.

But when your eyes land on the smallest trinket box, you don’t even look inside because you’re completely distracted by the items that lay beside it.

A pizza wheel and a set of measuring spoons.

Your heart nearly bursts in happiness when you recognise them as the ones you’d sold to him from your stall all that time ago.

He hadn’t thrown them away like you’d thought when you couldn’t find them in the kitchen. He’d kept them in his bedroom. With the rest of the items he treasures.

Clutching your hands to your chest to stop yourself from breaking out into song, you look up, and as if you thought your heart couldn’t be anymore full, you spot the portrait of him that you’d painted in the Topside art studio resting against the sil of the window.

Your hands drop at the same time your expression does when your eyes jump from the kitchen utensils to the painting in repeated succession…

He has a shrine to you in his bedroom.

He has a shrine to you… in his bedroom!!!

Your hands slap over your mouth in giddy joy and you giggle as silently as you can, dropping down onto the little seat in front of the writing desk, not caring for one second that they’re still your mortal enemies.

You carefully pick up a notebook, checking that the pages are easy to rip out and won’t ruin the notebook if you do. Turning to a fresh page, you grab a pen and begin to write a silly little limerick about you and Silco, the words coming to you surprisingly easy as you write.

there once was a kitchen utensil seller,

who fell in love with a silly, old fella-

The moment you read back the words on the page you freeze in horror.

You’ve just written down that you’ve fallen in love with Silco… in one of his own notebooks.

Your heart begins to race as you descend into panic.

Fuck.

Fuck!

What are you going to do? He can’t see this!

This can’t be the way he finds out how you feel about him. What if he doesn’t feel like that yet? What if it’s too early?

Shit. Are you in love with him? You’ve only just officially started dating. Literally, yesterday.

Your mind becomes a whirl of spiralling thoughts and in your panic, you look down at the notebook and start to make a plan that, almost concerningly, resembles a murder cover-up.

First and foremost, you need to get rid of the evidence. Then you need to get an alibi. Then-

Before you can even think about running to your bedroom to hide the notebook - Sod’s law - you nearly jump out of your seat when a gravelly, morning voice speaks from behind you.

“Whilst I treasure waking up to this view, sweetheart, I must admit,” Silco’s voice somehow drops even lower, almost tantalisingly so. “I’d much prefer for you to come back to bed.”

You freeze for a second, resisting the urge to snap the notebook shut in fear of looking too suspicious, and take a moment to clear your face before turning to look at him over your shoulder.

The smile that pulls your lips is automatic as you observe him lying in bed, propped up on one elbow as he gazes at you hungrily, his dark hair all tousled and his lips dry.

Gods, he’s honestly never looked better.

You bite your lip and Silco smirks, a devilish little thing, as he crooks one finger to summon you back to bed.

But you can’t go back to bed, you have to cover up your crime before he can notice what you’ve done.

So you decide to grill him on his obsession with you.

“But if I come back to bed, how am I supposed to admire your shrine to me?” you ask in a way that you hope sounds innocent (but in all honesty doesn’t at all), vaguely gesturing to the kitchen utensils and painting behind you.

Silco heaves a dramatic, heavy sigh like you’re the most exhausting person ever.

“Of course you think it’s a shrine,” he grumbles under his breath.

He throws back the covers and starts to get out of bed, and now you do slam the notebook shut as your eyes widen. Luckily, Silco takes no notice and saunters into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he disappears through it.

You jump at the opportunity to grab the notebook and shove it behind his dresser, along with the pen you used and all his pencils, because in your paranoia, you assume he knows how to dust for fingerprints and will no doubt use the pencil trick if you just rip the page from the notebook.

By the time he returns, you’re sitting back down at the desk, mindlessly spinning the blade of the pizza wheel, trying to look like a picture of perfect innocence and not like you’d just stolen half of the stationery from his writing desk.

Silco glances over at you in surprise when he finds you in the same place he left you (and pointedly, not back in bed) and strides over to you with purpose.

You look up at him with wide eyes until he reaches your side. He carefully plucks the pizza wheel from your hands so you won’t hurt yourself on the blade, and suddenly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder with ease.

You squeal in surprise and start to wiggle on his shoulder as he carries you across the room and over to the bed.

“Help! I’m being kidnapped by the Eye of Zaun!” you jokingly cry out.

Silco gently chucks you onto the bed and you wriggle away from him until your head hits the pillows, unable to hold back a smile the entire time.

He crawls onto the bed after you and cages you in with his arms, leaning down to whisper in your ear once he hovers atop you.

“Now be a good girl and behave.”

His lips descend on yours and you easily melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms up and around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you.

When both of your lungs are burning from the lack of air, Silco regretfully pulls back and rests his head in the crook of your neck. Your hands run up and down his spine for a few blissful moments until you finally break the peace.

“Sil, we need to get up for work.”

“No we don’t,” he instantly mumbles back, lips resting against your neck with every word.

You smile up at the ceiling before gently pulling on the back of his loose shirt.

“We do.”

Silco ignores you completely, lifting his head to place a series of kisses along your neck. You drop your shoulders and relax into it completely, up until the moment that you feel him start to suck a bruise into your skin.

“Oi!” you say, weaving your hands into his hair to pull him away from you. “Stop it, you’re going to get me in trouble with my boss.”

At this, Silco leans back up until he’s hovering over your lips, his eyes full of mischief.

“Oh, darling, I’m afraid you’re already in deep trouble with him.”

You can’t help grinning at him as he dips down to kiss you again, making you even more late for work.

It’s early evening when Silco lets out a deep, heady groan, the sound reverberating around the tall, empty space above his office.

“Yes, right there, darling,” he says, his timbre making it sound like he’s experiencing nirvana.

So, you concentrate on that place and bite back a grin when he stifles another, whinier moan.

Currently, Silco is lying flat out on the floor, his face smushed into the rug as you try to get the knots out of his old, decrepit body with a back massage.

Honestly, how many times have you warned him that hunching over his desk all day and night will give him terrible back pain? You think you’ve lost count at this point.

Still, you’re kind enough to help out your little himbo even when he doesn’t follow your advice.

“Why can’t you get a chiropractor to do this?” you ask, straddling his back as you try your best to ease some of his pain, rubbing your hands into the space just below his shoulders.

“Because you are far less expensive,” he mumbles gruffly into the rug.

You smack his clothed arm and glare down at the back of his head.

“Wrong answer.”

“Because you’re the only person I want touching me, darling,” Silco tries again, this time in a much sweeter voice.

He’s probably realising that it might not be such a good idea to offend the person currently trying to help him.

“That’s what I thought you said,” you say, digging into his back a little bit harder.

You continue to massage his back, following his directions of which areas to focus on, all the time wondering why the richest man in Zaun doesn’t just hire an actual professional, instead of getting you to give him a massage.

Is it just because he’s a stubborn old man? Or does he actually not trust anybody else to touch him like this?

Now that you know more of Silco’s past, you wouldn’t be surprised if he has difficulties with touch. But apart from that first time you’d tried to hold his hand in the warehouse, he’s never seemed reluctant to touch you.

Maybe he-

In the middle of your internal debate, two things happen at once.

First, you clearly hit a sweet spot in your massage because Silco groans in pure relief. Loudly.

And second, Sevika walks in through the office door completely unannounced.

There’s a millisecond of a pause before she scoffs.

“Fucking hell. Can’t you two do that somewhere else?”

Your head pops up over the desk in surprise, only to find her grimacing, looking up at the ceiling in disgust.

Your eyebrows burrow in confusion, wondering why Silco’s office would be an inappropriate place for a back massage when you suddenly realise what she thinks is happening.

“Wait, no! We weren’t doing that!” you call across the room in horror. “I was just giving him a massage!”

“Gross, I don’t wanna hear the details, just lock the door next time,” she groans, sounding like she wishes she was anywhere else but here.

Immediately your eyes widen as you realise your accidental double entendre.

“Wait, I didn’t mean-”

But she’s gone before you can finish your sentence, the door slamming behind her.

You sit for a moment in shell shock before glancing back down at Silco, who has turned his head sideways to look at you, his face resting on the backs of his hands.

“You don’t think she’s gonna tell people that we were… you know…” you trail off, making a vague, indecipherable gesture with one hand.

“Sevika’s not one to gossip,” Silco reassures you.

You inhale and exhale, pushing yourself up so you can go and lock the door, not wanting any more interruptions.

By the time you’ve made your way back to the desk, Silco is already sitting in his chair, facing towards you in a clear invitation to sit in his lap.

You don’t.

Instead, you plonk yourself down on the edge of the desk, facing towards the window, and bite your lip, painfully aware of Silco staring at you from the corner of your eye.

He waits a few more moments before rolling his chair closer to you and taking your hands in his.

“If you’re truly worried about it, I can speak to Sevika for you,” he says gently, trying to catch your gaze.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” you finally meet his eyes, worry painting your expression. “I have a feeling you don’t want to tell anyone.”

He sighs quietly and of course, you hate making him upset, but it’s something that needs to be addressed.

“For your safety, my dove,” he says pleadingly.

“I know,” you agree fervently. “I understand, Silco.”

It makes complete sense that he doesn’t want anyone to know. Anyone known to be close to the Eye of Zaun is much more likely to become a target than someone who just works for him.

But it still hurts.

You want to tell everyone. The whole world!

You want to tell your old boss at the stall down in the market.

You want to tell the old lady you used to live next door to.

Hell, you even want to tell the man who served you at the coffee shop everyday for three years, and every single day called you by the wrong name, until the day he visited your stall and saw your name badge, forcing you to find a new place to get your drinks from…

Then again, maybe not him.

“I just wish I could show you off. Have my own little stall in the market,” you tell Silco, nervously playing with his hands. “Maybe you could have a kissing booth… except I’m the only one who gets to kiss you,” you add with a frown, eyes snapping up to make sure he knows how serious you are.

Silco chuckles and his lips pull into a mischievous smirk.

“Do you think I’d get many customers?”

You stare at him hard.

He would.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you say, pulling on his hands so he rolls forward in his chair, closer and closer to you. “I’m going to keep you locked up in this office forever. These lips are mine.”

Your fingers raise to slowly trace his lips, forcing Silco’s own hands up since they’re still entwined with yours. You watch in fascination as his eyes darken until he suddenly pulls you downwards, landing heavily in his lap.

He lets go of your hands and manoeuvres your body until you’re straddling him, his lips resting on the shell of your ear.

“The rest is yours, too.”

You gasp as a shudder rolls down your spine, allowing him to grab your waist as your own fingers slide into his hair, bringing your lips together in a heated kiss.

You’re just starting to feel flushed at the promiscuous position and the heat flooding through your body when a loud bang echoes from behind you.

You scream and nearly headbutt Silco, who is forced to grip onto you tightly to stop you from toppling off the chair.

Whipping your head around, you’re met with the sight of Jinx, standing right in the middle of Silco’s desk like she’s just dropped down from the ceiling.

Since when did she start doing that?!

“I knew it!” she yells excitedly, her face lit up as she points at the two of you. “I knew you were secretly doing the kissing thing!”

Both you and Silco groan in tandem, and you can’t help but slump forward to rest your head on his shoulder, exhausted from Jinx’s grand entrance.

Well, so much for keeping it a secret.

PART 8

a/n: y’all better believe the next chapter will include silco-training-reader-how-to-defend-herself shenanigans 😈

Taglist: @htmlbitxh @pinkrose1422 @jennithejester @wondermia69 @redskull199987 @paradoxdraggon @ariaud @ruthdied

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #part 7

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eorzeanflowers · 9 months

Text

10 Fandoms, 10 Characters, 10 tags

Basic rules: choose 10 fandoms that you are part of/support, and choose a favorite character from each of those. Then, tag ten folks!

Tagged by: @miqojak Ty for the tag!!! Sorry it took a hot minute.

Tagging: Uhhhhh, @terminuspride, @fair-fae, @alannah-corvaine, @voidsentprinces, @healerstail, @ahollowgrave, @alicelufenia, @starrysnowdrop, @briar-ffxiv, @driftward

Now to the list! In no real particular order cause I really just drift from thing to thing.

Penny Polendina (RWBY)

I love my quirky little robot girl. She's the absolute best, a brilliant fighter and very emotionally intelligent. She is such a cheerful ideal, someone who tries to see the best in people. She knows when they've gone too far and isn't afraid to stand up for what she wants! Which is the whole core of her little arc. Being a weapon given a soul and all. It is a beautiful story of a little girl who cares so much and wishes to be able to just... be that cheerful little girl without the weight of the world. Its just so sweet.

Honorable mentions: Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, Oscar, Neo

2. Kafka (Star Rail)

In all honesty she's the reason I'm even playing Star Rail. She is such a mysterious character, with a voice to die for. Yes, Hoyoverse characters tend to be rather shallow (that's a gacha game for ya), but Kafka just hits everything I love in a character. Her character short when she was fully released is... *chef's kiss* just amazing. I will admit, every time she does her ult in game I join her in saying "Boom." ^_^;

Honorable Mentions: March 7th, Stelle (Trailblazer F), Seele, Bronya, Jingliu

3. Lyse (FFXIV)

Shocker, the leading lady of Stormblood is still my favorite? Honestly, all three of the ladies from Stormblood are the trifecta of favorites. (Lyse, Fordola and Yotsuyu) The various storylines that cause them to interact is such a delight. I wasn't too bothered by the whole "Yda was my sister" thing, cause well, Yda was barely in the game post ARR... And like, it was always Yda and Papalymo. Never just one or the other. So when Lyse got the chance to shine and actually take center stage, I was smitten. She's tough, gentle, sassy, collected, brilliant, a bit silly, and more. Such a well written character. I'm still upset she left the scions tbh. Could've added a little hair color diversity by a little bit. :P

Honorable mentions: Aymeric, Hilda, Erenville, Zero, Y'shtola, Thancred, Ryne, Gaia, Minfillia

4. Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb)

Ok, seriously, this series grabbed me by the throat and would not let me go. Gideon is such a lovely first viewpoint (and I adore all the viewpoint characters). She takes no shit, talks a lotta shit, and can fight a whole heck more shit. The way she interacts with Harrow at first, then the other Necromancers and their Cavaliers is such a delight. Sure you hate Harrowhark so much Gideon, why are you obeying her command to not speak a single word to literally anyone else, hmmmmmmmmmmm?????? Also the gay panic that Gideon seems to have on the regular is just. Great. I don't want to speak too much more on Gideon, cause this series is just great and you should read it.

Honorable mentions: Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Nona, Camilla Hect, Ianthe Tridentarius, Coronabeth Tridentarius.

5. Raiden Ei (Genshin Impact)

Last time it was Eula, now it is Raiden Ei. It is always a toss up between them, if I'm being honest. Ei is just... such a sad puppy? XD Its the best way to describe her. So trapped in her own past and trying to do what would best preserve her sister's memory... She's just SAD guys. Yeah, she may not be the best governing force for her nation, and she indirectly killed a lotta people with her retreating away and leaving a puppet behind, but we the Traveler showed up and fixed things! Also she gets two amazing boss fights, I honestly wish I could do the story one again but I ain't working through Mondstat and Liyue again. >.>;

Honorable mentions: Eula, Alhaithem, Deya, Kamisato Ayaka, Zhongli, Nahida, Navia, the Wanderer, Wriothsley

6. Karlach (Baldur's Gate 3)

KARLACH IS THE BEST AND SHE IS SO SWEET AND LOVELY AND SHOULD NOT HAVE TO GO BACK TO HELL OR DIE OR [redacted]. She is such a lovely goofball that even shows platonic love if you don't romance her and I really think that is great! Her arc tying into Gortash was delightful, bringing her much more into the story instead of just a bystander like a couple of them. (Like out of all the origin companions Astarion barely has any connection to any of the major players in the story, he's pretty self contained tbh.) Her sweetness, the way she says she's gonna eat dirt if you leave her camp, and her cheerful demeanor are just.... Amazing. I'm really running out of words for Karlach cause she is my favorite. I'm gonna have to start BG3 up again and actually play my romance run of her soon.

Honorable mentions: Shadowheart, Wyll, Astarion, Lae'zel, Dammon, Orin, Jaheira, Minthara, Isobel, Aylin

7. The Doctor (Doctor Who)

Ok, a bit of a cop out since, you know, they are the star of the show. BUT COME ON. The Doctor in their various iterations have been so enjoyable. My personal favorite is Tennet's 10, but Capaldi's 12 is a strong second. Its just a good show to binge at times. There are a lottta good episodes, a few really bad ones, but overall its a good time. The scene at the end of the special where they rescue Gallifrey is still one of my favorite scenes in the whole franchise. And hell, the Archeologist is based (loosely) on them, so how can I not include them?

Honorable mentions: DONNA NOBLE, Rose Tyler, Clara Oswald, Bill Potts, Me, Strax

8. Xion (Kingdom Hearts)

Have I mentioned I love tragic characters? Xion is literally the definition of tragedy, with all the problems with her just existing lol. Her presence in 358/2 Days really made the game for me. Roxas was kinda bland and having someone that was similar in age (like Sora, Riku and Kairi were) to interact with made it all that much better. AND SHE GETS THE HAPPY ENDING. Eventually. Boy is it a long road, but that's Kingdom Hearts for ya.

Honorable Mentions: Kairi, Namine, Riku, Sora, Aqua, Terra, Master Xehanort, Isa, Lea

8. Lucina (Fire Emblem)

I really wanna pick someone else in all honesty, but Fire Emblem has a worse problem than Hoyoverse games in their bit characters. :/ Lucina is a strong character that really delighted me when I played Awakening. She's such a surprise that it really helps make that Fire Emblem my favorite. She's got a good supporting cast too, with Robin and her dad Chrom, but Awakening was really her game. Chrom was kinda there just to be her dad lol

Honorable mentions: Robin, Chrom, Ike, Mist, Soren, Sumia, Erika, Marisa, Lyon, Elincia

9. Trevor Belmont (Castlevania)

Full disclosure, I have not played his game, in fact the only two castlevania's I have played both feature non Belmont's as the lead players (Portrait of Ruin and Order of Ecclasia). But the way Trevor is in the show, OH BOY. He is rough, he is blunt, he is smart, he is SOOOO dumb, he is loyal, he is a fighter, he never gives up, HE IS JUST GREAT. He's also one of my biggest Bi panics when he shows how much of a badass he is in episode, I think, 4 or 5 or later? Its been a hot minute since I watched that series. When he first uses the flail weapon that I forget the name of.

Honorable mentions: Shanoa, Jonathan Morris, Charlotte Aulin, Sypha Belnades, Alucard, Dracula

10. Aigis (Persona)

Aigis is a super cutie and I love her interactions with the female protagonist. I really wish P3 wasn't such a long game and Aigis actually showed up a little earlier. She's just a doll! I do need to try and find a copy (or emulate) FES to play the storyline with her as the lead singer. Its just so rough to get thru P3 I just lose motivation. T.T I've made it to the vacation part with the female lead, like, three times and no further cause my motivation tanks. WHICH IS WEIRD CAUSE THAT'S WHEN YOU MEET AIGIS. Its just too long for me I guess. XD

Honorable mentions: Teddie, Female lead P3, Male lead P4, Yukari Takeba, Mitsuru Kirijo, Akihiko Sanada, Fuuka Yamagishi, Shinji Aragaki, Junpei Iori, Chidori Yoshino, Elizabeth, Theodore

Not gonna lie, kinda struggled to find a full 10 franchises to pull a character from. My mind just goes blank when asked my favorite character from X place. Names escape me and everything. XD But as you can see, I love robot girls, strong girls, mysterious girls, tragic girls, a fail man, and traveling weirdo.

#the rare leigh #oooooooof #this took like..... 2 hours lol #joking it was only like 1.#but still lol #ty for the tag Jak <3 #ty for the tag Mimble <3

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havockingboo · 1 year

Note

Grrrhrhrr I love ur art so much I wanna put it under my pillow

Also what's monkey wrench? 👁

WEEE THANK YOU BONES

And oh?

Well well well i’m SOOOO GLAD YOU ASKED my dear friend.

Monkey Wrench is an indie animation cartoon created by Zeurel, an amazing animator that came from newgrounds and is known mainly for his vinesauce animation!! Monkey Wrench story focuses on a team of two mercenaries: ‘Beebs’ and Shrike Sánchez! The series followings them on their many merc adventures in *space*!

YES this wonderful little cartoon is a sci-fi adventure FILLED WITH ACTION PACKED SEQUENCED AND INCREDIBLE ANIMATION it’s humorous!! It’s got witty and dumb humor that makes me laugh!

Not convinced enough yet? Did you know there’s gonna be a whole lotta LORE to be seen? Little hints and puzzle pieces in dialogue and scenes that says “oh? well isn’t That interesting hmm??” So far there’s only 2 episodes up on the main youtube channel but ITS SO SO GOOD!! It’s Zeurel’s and NeatoTito (the lovely co-creator and writer of the series✨) first series that they’ve just put out into the world!! They’re learning along the way of how to make each episode better than the last and MAAAN me being the animation fan i am, I just love seeing this series just being made!! In real time!!

But whew ahah yeah!! It’s a show worth watching!

If you love space hi-jinks, charming and lovable characters, ANIMATION, unique character designs, Action!! And a story driven show—then this little web series should be on your watchlist!

youtube

And heeeey if you got a few bucks to spare toooo, this show ain’t easy to make! Like anything else, it costs a whole lotta moola!! Money!! There’s a link in the description of the video to the Monkey Wrench patreon and let me tell you as a patreon myself there—it’s worth every penny man.

If you want to support a small indie animation like this one, or just wanna see more of this show like behind the scenes! heck! even get your name in the credits, go on and throw a buck! They need all the support they can get! (This of course if you’re able to!! Support the show any means as you can!! By spreading the word or just watching it over and over haha!)

Soooo in short!!

Watch Monkey Watch 🔧

(I need more episodes guys PLEASE)

#I am so sorry for infodumping about my interests #it WILL happen again 😔#i’m just so! very passionate about cartoons and animation in general urgh #ISKFLSFJFN BUT YEAH THIS DHOW #THIS FUNKY SPACE SHOW #is amazing #my review: it saved me from major art block!#and now i draw these silly guys EVERY DAY!! whew!!#monkey wrench talk #answered asks

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thatonegeekygirl · 5 months

Note

hey aurora, i was just thinking about how you write poetry and i was wondering if there were any poems you possibly wanted to share? 🫶

i have only read one of your poems and i apsolutely LOVED it, so i was just thinking about how many other beautiful pieces you have likely written! you are so very talented! 💛

aly this is so sweet thank you <3 and yes i do indeed! here are a couple of my favourites (i write mostly freeform poetry so there's a lotta that):

Hey, Kid, Come Home

Hey, kid, there’s a world out here. Beyond your four walls painted gray, gray, gray like the clouds on the coast, boxing you in gerbil-like. There are posters on your walls that shout pain in your face but the people that made them don’t know the first thing about pain, and you do, I know you do. Those blinds that you pull so tight to block out the sunbeams that are trying their damndest to filter inside, and kiss your cheek, and remind you of good things—cause there are good things, despite it all.

Your apartment is too small to contain all that you are. It's crushing you, crushing you like a ribcage too small for its lungs, forcing sweet air out. Suffocating. Everything crumbles to nothing eventually, and you’ve watched it.

Hey, kid, it's hard, don’t let them tell you it isn’t. But it's not impossible. And there’s love pushing back the darkness, it’s real and it’s strong, and it’s fighting alongside hope to give you the power to take a step, and another. Kid, I know it, because I love you, and I hope for you. Open the door. Breathe, deep and full, and smell the smells of the trees and the clouds and the people. Let me hold your eyes in mine, and speak things words could never say.

You will find that for every ounce of pain, there are two of joy. There’s a smile in there with you, but you hold it in cause how could you smile after you’ve lost all that you once smiled for? Unlock its prison anyway. It doesn’t belong in solitude any more than you do.

Remember that life is here to stay, that the birds still sing, and the Earth still turns. Remember laughter and touch, clumsy music and butterflies and mountains. It is never too late to live, never too late to reclaim who you were. Heck, we all get lost sometimes. That’s being human.

And hey, kid?

We’re waiting for you.

The Day My Heart Shattered

The day my heart shattered

it was sunny

everywhere but the little room we shared.

It was dark, there.

Dark as she reached into my chest,

and grasped with steely fingers my heart. and wrenched it from its place within me

and raised it above her head

and dropped it.

Hitting the marble floor at our feet,

it broke.

Not a clean break,

two pieces easily fused together

with glue and stubbornness.

No, it didn’t break the way hearts do in the movies.

It shattered.

All bitter fragments and fierce edges

whispers of form,

torturing,

implying at a wholeness that did not exist.

I collapsed by my fractured heart

and reached a shaking hand out.

Unbelieving, numb,

I drew a shard from the mess,

cradled it in my palm,

and it bit angrily into my skin.

A line of crimson rose from within.

I stared as blood welled and dripped,

rivulets of warm redness staining everything.

My thumb

my knees

my white dress

The shard, still clutched in pale fingers.

Breath was stolen from my brittle lungs.

All thought was smothered in quiet anguish.

The warmth in my limbs stuttered and turned to ice.

It felt like death, losing my heart.

Worse, maybe.

She walked away,

out the oak door that always creaked halfway open

out of the scene she had made

out of my life forever.

Leaving salty tears,

stale blood,

the clink of heart fragmented, and a girl lost amongst shadow

in her place.

I wonder, sometimes,

in the hush of twilight,

if she remembers me.

What emotions strike her, if she does.

I want for an apology,

a sign that the sorrow I felt

is reflected in her, somehow.

I suppose in the end it doesn’t matter.

Cause my heart,

it always

stayed

broken.

Masks

There is a man.

He follows me,

a few lengths behind,

just far enough in the distance

for doubt to creep into my bones.

But then his pace quickens,

and I must resist the urge to quicken my own.

Facing stoically forward,

I ignore the patter of footfalls

nearing my back.

"Turn around," he says

with a voice crunched with gravel.

I do.

"Look," I say, "leave me alone,

"Will you?

"I don’t know who you are

"And you don’t seem the sort of man

"I ought to be speaking with."

And he doesn’t.

His clothes are torn

his hair is greasy

his eyes are tired

his face is broken.

"Well," says the man, "I do not wear a mask."

"Do not mock me, sir," I huff,

"are you implying everyone else is?"

He tilts his head. "No.

"I’m telling you."

"What do you want?" I ask.

My feet itch to dash away.

"Many things," he replies.

"But if you mean to ask,

"what will it take for me to leave,

"then I say, take it off.’

I step backward.

"Take off what?"

"Weren’t you listening?"

He holds out a hand.

"Your mask."

He points at me.

"Your cheeks are blushed,

"your hair is neat,

"your eyes are bright,

"your face, unblemished by pain.’

He shakes his head.

"Just like the rest.

"But you needn’t hide from me."

I roll my eyes,

ignore the pang in my stomach,

and say, "Well, if it’ll send you on your way."

Then continue stubbornly,

"But I’m telling you, I wear no such thing."

He reaches a hand up.

My fingers tremble so I tighten them.

He hooks a finger around my chin.

My chest aches so I hold my breath.

He pulls.

And comes away with mask in hand.

I gasp but the air doesn't reach my lungs.

He lifts a mirror.

"Look," he says.

I look.

His face stares back at me.

#thank you for giving me the chance to gleefully share my poems :)#i don't like to shove my work at people so being invited to do so always makes me very excited!#i also write short stories....yk in case you're interested..... :)#poetry #the geek answers #the geek writes

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wordstrings · 2 years

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Understanding Harmony

Critical Role: Bell’s Hells. Ashton and Imogen take a watch after the events of episodes 33–38. Written for @feather-aesthetic for the Squealing Santa 2k22 fic exchange. Prompt: playful/bonding situations. Words: 1,500

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“I just…” Imogen’s voice hitches with a tiny, incredulous laugh that lilts and wilts into something almost sad. “Just can’t believe she’s back.”

Ashton stares into the fire for another moment before dropping their eyes to the twig they’ve been fiddling with between their knees.

“Crazy, huh?” they say, for lack of anything more intelligent to add.

Imogen twists her fingers into a loose fold of her skirt. The fabric tightens across her hands, a smart pair to the tension still visibly lingering in her body.

“It’s not supposed to happen. Bringin’ someone back from the dead. Though, I guess, for Laudna… maybe it’s not so strange. I don’t know.”

“No, it’s weird,” Ashton assures her. The nubby end of one toothpick-thin branch snaps under their thumb. They roll the broken bit between their fingers. The tiny splintered end is sharp.

“I never… never would’ve thought I’d see somethin’ like that. That I’d be part of that. Y’know? Heck, I just thought I’d be spending the rest of my life staring at fields and feeling alone. It’s just… a lot,” she finishes quietly.

“Being alone isn’t so bad.” Saying it is almost habit. It’s true enough.

The firelight catches in the glance Imogen darts their way. “Feeling alone, though. It’s different when you don’t really have a choice.”

Ashton shrugs. “Not much different, in my experience.”

There’s a gentle scoff in Imogen’s voice when she says, “Then why’re you stickin’ around with us, huh?”

“Because Letters needs people.” It’s just as quick to surface, just as habitual.

“But you don’t.”

Ashton knows a jab, even in the dark. The retort is already in their throat, clambering on the back of their tongue. But they swallow it, because Imogen isn’t coming after them, not really. They don’t have a ready-made alternative response, though, so they focus on the splintered nub, trying to crush it between their fingertips. It’s too small and just digs in, a tiny hard granule of dead wood.

A soft glow leans toward their mind but doesn’t quite enter. Ashton braces internally anyway.

“They’re pretty important to you,” Imogen says aloud, instead.

Having someone important is dangerous. That’s how stupid decisions get made. Case in point: letting a complete stranger put them all under so they can go fight the spirit of a necromancer in order to yank a not-quite-living, not-quite-not woman out of a tree-shaped manifestation of her trauma, or some shit.

But then Ashton is caught completely off-kilter when Imogen continues: “What the fuck is up with that?”

Ah, fuck them, but it works. They crack a laugh.

Imogen laughs quietly along, too. It’s something shared, and it evaporates the murk that’s been crowding Ashton’s throat.

“Somebody’s gotta look out for ‘em,” they say with half a smile. “Otherwise Letters would end up trusting some pack of fools hell-bent on getting dead for each other out of some poorly-advised sense of integrity.”

“Out of all of us, I think FCG is the only one with integrity, sometimes.” Imogen’s grin has seemed to soften her, as well. “They take good care of us. So do you, y’know. You both make a good team.”

Ashton does their best to skirt the compliment, but there’s still some warmth that surges up unattributable to the campfire. Riposte. “Can’t talk about a ‘team’ without looking at you two.” They tip their chin toward the sleeping form that is Laudna, with an empty gap at her side for only as long as Imogen’s on watch. “Closest I’ve ever seen two folks who aren’t in each other’s pants.”

Imogen huffs softly. She rubs her forearm with one distracted hand. “Lotta people don’t get it. That’s fine, I guess. But she just… she saw me when nobody else really did. She knew what it was like. Keeping away from people, feeling like connections were impossible. Laudna was the first new person I got physically close enough to touch in… god, in years. That kinda messes you up after a while, doesn’t it?”

It’s said rhetorically, but her tone clearly expects agreement, and Ashton isn’t inclined to agree. Being messed up: sure. One hundred percent, all day every day. Being messed up because nobody’s holding your hand, or lying close while you sleep, or filling some sort of sappy hug quota: nah.

They settle for responding with a noncommittal grunt.

“It was the simplest thing,” Imogen continues, smiling wistfully down at her hands. “Just touching my elbow to draw my attention to a flower. Handing me an acorn cap or a dead worm or whatever she was decorating her next little doll with. Her hands were always a bit cold but it was still soothing when she’d hum to me, like this.”

Imogen side-leans in just a bit, and it’s a testament to how far Ashton has relaxed with this group – for good or for ill – that they don’t duck away from her approaching hand. Her fingers alight on the back of their neck, gentle as a songbird, as she begins to hum a folksy, unhurried tune.

The touch on their nape drifts back and forth with the cadence of the song. Ashton doesn’t recognize the melody, but it’s easy to imagine it tells a story of land remembered or beauty witnessed. Imogen’s fingertips are… fine. Ashton wouldn’t call them soothing. Wouldn’t really call them anything. Their skin doesn’t register much of anything duller than a slap, so the fire-heated warmth and pressure of her hand is barely notable. But, they suppose, it could be nice – for a person whose body is not constantly, quietly ringing with the ache of pain. It’s yet one more luxury that Ashton is not permitted to experience. It would feel unfair, if they weren’t just used to it.

Imogen’s humming trots up and down in scale as she reaches some chorus line. Her fingers shift, tapping nails in staccato on the back of Ashton’s neck with the time.

Ashton’s shoulders pull slightly inward. Okay, they can feel that a bit more than the softness of fingertips. Kind of itchy.

Doesn’t seem like Imogen is paying any close mind, though. She’s gazing into the campfire again, her head canted gently in unseeing reminiscence. The chorus ends and her fingers fall back into drifting touches with the next wordless verse.

This is so foreign.

Not hanging out with a group, or even having a low conversation in the night; it’s this kind of interaction, this connection, with someone who’s sharing something beyond job-related banter or a clipped story. Apparently Ashton is going to be treated to a full song with tactile accompaniment for no reason except Imogen wanting to give it.

The second verse ends. The chorus picks up again.

Shit, that really does itch when she does that with her fingernails. But, like, a shivery itchiness. It makes Ashton’s belly clench up a little. Especially when the nail tips drag short little lines in a wave pattern up and down their nape. An involuntary shudder trembles through Ashton’s neck and shoulders, but what’s so remarkable is that they don’t want it to stop.

Imogen must notice, because her humming bobs with a light chuckle. But she doesn’t stop the song. She carries into a third verse, this time keeping her nails gliding.

Ashton would feel teased, except for that glow leaning against their mind again. It still doesn’t push in. Rather, it rests against the doorframe, watching kindly from just outside; a sentinel, careful and attentive.

This is so, so foreign.

But fuck it feels… good. And that’s a revelation as much as everything else about this interplay. Ashton’s not thinking about the ever-present, spine-deep ache in their body. Not thinking about when the enjoyment might be soured. Just listening to a friend’s gentle music while fingernails dust sparks of static across their skin.

The hummed song dances off its by-now predictable path into a melodic bridge. Imogen’s nails skitter up and down with the notes, out in wider arcs and spirals, tapping and scraping along Ashton’s scarred, calloused skin, and it’s just– fucking hell, it tickles.

Ashton can’t help the way they hunch even further at that realization. They’re fracturing into laughter before they have any hope of getting a grip on themself.

Imogen’s mental glow warms. It’s okay. It’s okay to sit here and snicker, to crane up one shoulder and then the other in conflicted attempts at protection, to grin and squint and squeeze their fists between their knees and just feel something good for once.

It’s okay.

The tune winds its way back to the notes Ashton now knows by heart, turning reflective and peaceful. Imogen’s humming slows, as do her fingers. She caresses long, gentle lines with the edges of her nails. Ashton’s eyes fall closed, though they still chuckle and shiver through their sighs.

Maybe this is soothing, after all.

#squealing santa 2k22 #tickle fic #stringswork #Critical Role #Bell's Hells #Ashton Greymoore #Imogen Temult #queerplatonic imodna rights!#ticklish!ashton #gen #Understanding Harmony #feather.aesthetic #aaaaa coming in right under the wire of my extension deadline!! it's late but it's here!#hooo gettin' back in that writing saddle i feel like i need chaps #also inaugural cr c3 fic woooooo

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