#sc ocs

[the-deadly-donut]

What will Benny ask Mil- Santa for Christmas I wonder 🤭

[em0goose]

[OCs - precanon]

He's not a bad man.

At least, he tells himself that a lot. More than he should if he truly was a good man. The lines between morals and orders blurred, though the guilt always sat heavier no matter what order they brought out.

Lukas likes to think he's different. That there will be something on the other side of war and he'll simply be a man, not a soldier. If he's lucky, he'll have everything he's ever wanted. A wife, a child, a gorgeous house out in the countryside where he'd spend time in the garden every morning.

Family is the reason he's where he is now; his shoulders hunched over himself as his fingers tap desperately at his side. He was UA—unauthorized absence—from a single call that made him race to a hospital too damn far away. Flight tickets, rental cars. Whatever the price, he was there.

His brother was reckless, he's known that his entire life. But Lukas couldn't imagine being in this situation. Walking fearfully into a hospital room where his brother looked half alive with bandages covering his face. The guilt for that burns more than anything else. The wound wasn't his fault, but it was his fault that his brother joined the military.

Wesley, what a fucking idiot. How could he be so stupid to get injured like this? And Lukas doesn't even have the clearance to know what his brother and his team were doing—he wasn't in the army anymore.

"Wes," He hated the way his voice chokes up as he stands over his brother in the hospital bed. Under the bandages over his face, he knows there have to be deep stitches. He's lucky, Luke thinks, that his nerves were intact still.

"'m okay..." Wesley, despite exhaustion and pain, mutters to comfort his brother. He's gentle, calm. It's happened before, this, all this. Except Lukas couldn't make it before. And Wesley had the scar on his throat to prove that he made it out regardless; Lukas' eyes glance at the scarred skin.

He's ruining his brother by letting him hurt like this. Wesley got the idea that the military was a good option from him. He was inadvertently causing him so much pain. After all of his best efforts, at forty years old, he's still failing his brother.

"You're in the hospital, again, Wesley..." Lukas struggles with any attempt to keep his voice level. He's always been calm, he's supposed to be calm, but he can feel the flame beneath his skin. Guilt, anger, fear, all simmering.

"They were gonna kill 'em, I did something." Wesley's eyes convey the emotions his face can't. Tears sparkling in his brown eyes, trying to meet Lukas' green ones and failing.

Painfully, Luke knows he would've done the same thing in his brother's position. But he can't stop the way his hands shake as he tries to breathe. He made a bad choice. He got hurt. Just to save someone else.

"You need to protect you first!" His throat already feels raw from the lack of water, but he still strains for each word, falling from his mouth in a mess of vowels and consonants that he wasn't quite sure made sentences. "You almost got yourself killed, how many times can you almost die before you get it??" He looks anywhere but Wesley's face, heart pounding in his ears.

"I'd do it again." Wesley whispers to the air around them, barely containing the wince at moving his face too much. It hurts, breathing, eating, sleeping. God forbid he needs to yawn.

"That's the problem! You're too reckless, this isn't just the corps anymore, you're specialized! I don't even have the fucking clearance to know what you were doing out there!!" Lukas' voice shook with each forced syllable.

He's not a good man.

But his stomach drops as he sees the look on his brother's face. Not the physical pain, but the tears forming in his eyes, the tensed shoulders, the rise in heart rate. Fuck, fuck.

"Wesley.." Lukas murmurs, head hung low as he grabs his brothers open hand—as if he was waiting for it to be over to hold onto him—it hurts to still be wanted when it gets too much.

"I know..." Wesley sighs, trying to blink away tears. "I know it's stupid... I do- I just.. they were gonna die. 'n' I knew I wouldn't." A calculated risk is still a risk. And his life on the line- Lukas doesn't want to meet his eyes again.

"You take too big of risks an' you're gonna die next..." Lukas' hand interlaces their fingers, supportive and gentle where his thumb strokes the side of Wesley's hand. His chest hitches with each full breath.

"Don't count on it. Got plans to make it where you are.. Prestigious PMC, good pay, insurance, time off." His inhales are pained, but he breaths out as he speaks almost annoyingly calm for the tears still in his eyes. Wesley squeezes his hand.

"As if..." Lukas half-heartedly scoffs.

"'m not fifteen anymore, that ain't working.. C'mon, you know the commander. Can't you put in a word for me? When 'm better and not in a hospital bed?" That would be the next day, if the wounds were looking okay enough. A precaution.

"You'd make it in, know it. Just don't wanna see your dumb face all the time." Lukas teases, as if he'd ever hate to see his brother. But he hopes it's enough to make Wesley smile, a playful tease.

"You fly here just to mock me... Bastard." But it does make him smile. And that's all Lukas hoped for. Even if the shaking doesn't go away. Even if his heart hurts as he stares at his little brother.

He's not a bad man. He's promised before and he'll say it again; his family will always come first. And Wesley was all he had right now.

[cinnamon-stixs]

I love her so much, She's cannon now

I like to think she works at the same florist onyx does :)

oc by @dakirbster

[doodling-doodle]

Day 3 of The Spookening!

My third victim is...

@edenkyubiko's Hydra in a bat outfit!

No sneak Peek today I'm sorry

But I got more incoming!

[zerguette]

uhhhh the lil pretty boy it’s seeing a butterfly.

Fun fact (I think): I’m hearing a music that don’t have any relation with the drawing and it’s funny for me.

Hope you like this wip :b

[em0goose]

Orange.

It reminds him of the sun, of fire, of love, of anger, of loss. Smiles, tears and sleepless nights. The line between content and unease had always been blurred to him. A mess of all shades. Burnt oranges, neons, pastels...

The warmth of it was always familiar, a net to fall into, a blanket to cuddle into. And if Wesley wasn't a weak man, he'd face the bright lights outside of his room. See the smiles that felt like they both burned and soothed him, the care that came with the gentle glances.

The other Shadows weren't scary. He knew their comfort since he was young, when smiling green eyes showed him what was called a family. It was his family now, the closest he had.

Orange.

Unable to face it, like the touch would hurt and everything felt like firey hatred. Grief tightening his shoulders and reddening his soft eyes. Sending shivers down his back like he's missing something.

He is.

The family—the Shadows—couldn't be complete. A nagging feeling. A missing puzzle piece that no other could fill.

Green.

It's missing. He's missing. The one splotch of green daring to melt the sea of orange, hesitating to take over. A watercolor paint in the acrylic, watering it down until the colors could mesh. Green was always there, but always kept its place, a cool corner of his mind, always there. Always the one thing to pull him out of a warm bed when they needed to go. Wesley never knew when to stop or go, anyway.

Grief. Molded into colors surrounding the green. Muddied, dull, improper. It didn't grow, but the colors framed around it changed. Became a more.. tired version. The loss, the exhaustion, the sadness taking place in the muddied oranges and greens where the colors mixed. The colors never mixed into something pretty, no matter how hard he tried to make use of the feelings.

His mind wasn't a wreck, but a piece of art misshapen and damaged. Colors fading in and out where they're weren't supposed to be any.

Orange. Warmth, care, love, safety.

Green. Grief, loss, but wrapped protectively in the net. Both the thing that haunted and loved him.

It's missing, the bright green Wesley once knew. Faded and messily added to the mix of warm orange. He was missing with the gentle green eyes.

And yet, his name felt so warm to his mind. So purely orange. Warm, delicate, safe.

Lukas James Withers. Brother. Shadow. Friend. Orange.

Orange?

[em0goose]

Wesley.. oh you are so tragic in my heart

[em0goose]

"You looked at me. (Did you still see me?)"