#echo-desu

[salemrph]

“Let the World Burn”

Final Chapter 8: Let the World Burn

A night of celebration ends in chaos—you vanish without a trace. The ransom demand arrives, but Sylus knows this isn’t just about money.

Chapter Summary: Trapped in Rudy’s warehouse, You, Sylus, Luke, and Kieran fight through waves of guards and Wanderers. Caleb must find Rudy before the rising energy collapses into something far worse: a Protofield. And if he doesn’t, none of you will make it out alive.

Characters: Sylus x MC/reader/you, Luke and Kieran, Caleb

Genre/Warning: descriptions of violence and blood, hurt/comfort, injuries, romantic, drama, action, slight sexual content, angst

Words: 11k | Reading Time: 43min

Navigator: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | AO3

Tag list: @voidsylus @thechaoticarchivist @syluscrows @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @syluskisser @fortunekookie07 @crimsonlittlecrow @mochibunnies3 @gazelover666 @fancyhawk45 @sorryimakira @paninisstuff @deathrye @tinyweebsstuff @sxderia @yunhogrippers @sylusqt @darkesky @an-ever-angry-bi @atinymekanie @bruisedchickensoup

@thatonegenderfluidwhore @certainduckanchor @the-girl-who-used-to @reika-desu @f41k47 @beezabuzz @mentaltrouble2201 @bl00dsuccker @blorbohunter @gianchan-de @fortunekookie07 @sylusloml @pandoras-rabbit @the-spine-of-the-world @noradest @owodi @greatmistakes @theshadowsdragon @pillarofsnow @lawssocuteee @gibborger @hestia-fires @crowskitten22 @hestia-fires

Chapter 8: Let the world burn

You didn’t remember the moment the fight truly began. One second, Sylus was at your side, whispering something after the kiss that left your lips burning. The next, the storm shattered the last remnants of silence and all hell tore through the walls. Rain poured in through the jagged wound in the ceiling, soaking concrete, bodies, blood. The Wanderers came fast. 

Gunfire cracked like lightning around you, echoing through the warehouse now painted in shadows and chaos. Wanderers shrieked as they lunged in, limbs twisted in unnatural angles, eyes burning with that eerie, hollow hunger. You moved on instinct: shoot, duck, slash, breathe. Again. Again. Again.

Beside you, Sylus moved like something otherworldly with fluidity, brutality, and precision. Every step he took left a body behind. A crack of bone. A hissed breath. He didn’t waste a second. Sylus just wants to end this nightmare, the longer you fight this wave, the more likely you are to lose your only chance to escape.

The twins were holding the higher ground, sending out bursts of cover fire and throwing down traps, working to contain the endless surge of guards Rudy had unleashed. You could hear one of them shouting over comms, breath ragged, laughing like a man on the edge of madness.

Luke's voices crackled faintly in your earpiece:

“We’ve got the inside. Hold the front, boss.”

But nothing was slowing them down. The Wanderers kept coming. The guards kept pouring in. You were stuck.

“Left!” Sylus warned behind you.

You pivoted, shot a Wanderer in the chest, but too late to dodge the second one. Its claws raked across your side before you could finish it off. You hissed, staggering, forcing your body back upright. Luckily the cut on your skin isn't big but it will be another scar to add to the collection.The Wanderer vanishes into particles. A third was close now, but Sylus is keeping your flank covered. You moved in sync. From the very beginning, fighting beside him felt effortless as if your bodies moved to the same violent rhythm, attuned to each other’s instincts. You could anticipate his strikes before they came, just as he read your movements. He moved, you followed. You struck, he covered. The hours of training together are starting to pay off.

“You really don’t want to make it easy for me, huh.” He tosses a spare magazine to you without looking. “Are you prepared to keep up with me?”

You caught it mid-air, slammed it into place. “I’ve been born ready.”

“Don’t over do it” 

There were too many. The ground shook as a Wanderer slammed into one of the support beams above, knocking down chunks of concrete and metal rained down in a storm of filth and dust. Your ears rang. You and Sylus instinctively dove apart. Your body is screaming in protest the moment you hit the floor, it wasn’t a graceful landing. Hitting the ground hard, a jolt of agony ripped through your ribs as bone grated against the floor. The breath tore from your lungs in a ragged wheeze, your vision blotting with stars. Pain clawed up your spine, but you bit down on it, hard. The pain was dizzying, but you welcomed it. It meant you were still alive.

Opposite you, Sylus moved with a predator’s grace, already unloading a volley of shots into the charging beast that veered his way. You mirrored him, squeezing the trigger with trembling fingers just as another creature lunged toward you. Your aim was a bit off, your hand was torn from when you’d gripped that broken glass too tight. The bandage was again soaked with blood, you wound open again. But the bullet found its mark anyway, splitting through the Wanderer’s neck in a bloom of gore.

Blood sprayed across the floor. Even if Wanderers dissolved into particles once dead, they could still bleed. And this one bled all over your boots before it vaporized into nothing.

Every step felt like you were walking through broken glass barefoot. You could taste iron on your tongue, from biting the inside of your cheek. Adrenaline kept you upright, but your mind were fraying at the edges. Caleb’s voice still echoed in your skull, the kiss siting heavy in your heart. Sylus’s gaze still burned on your skin. The truth. The lies. The years of pain and buried memories bubbling just beneath the surface. The experiments. Your past. The explosion. Your grandmother’s death… You were spiraling. It’s all tangled together, one wound bleeding into the next.

A guttural snarl pulled you back.

You staggered to your feet, knees buckling beneath you. Sylus was suddenly there, appearing at your side like he always did. He reached for you, anchoring you with one arm as you lifted your gun again.

“You’re too close. That 's my spot.” You smiled. 

“We could just resonate to make this easier,” you said between breaths, twisting your body to dodge a clawed strike, your bullet strikes clean through the creature’s weak spot.

Sylus crushed the skull of another Wanderer with his bare hands, his Evol sparking like wildfire across his skin, rippling with power. He turned toward you slowly, his eyes catching the light like a predator in a storm. Then he smirked, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand.

“Sweetie,” he said, almost warning. “I’m not doing that in your state.”

You clicked your tongue. You knew your body was far from its best but pushing forward like this wasn’t giving you the advantage either.

Sylus fought like a man possessed. One guard lunged at him, gun half-raised, finger twitching toward the trigger. Sylus grabbed the bastard’s wrist, twisted hard, bones shattering like dry twigs. The guard screamed once before Sylus stole the weapon straight from his hands and turned on a dime, just in time to blow apart the fucker charging at your blind side.

Before you could respond, he pivoted, grabbing the next Wanderer by the throat mid-leap. His Evol surged again and the beast detonated, its body flung backward like a broken puppet, torn apart by pure force, soon becoming particles in the air.

You returned the favor, your pistol cracking through the storm to drop the sniper aiming from above. The crack of your gun split the air. His head snapped back. Blood sprayed. His limp body slammed into the scaffolding above with a sickening thunk, tumbling over the edge before landing in a messy heap of broken limbs and twisted metal. One more down. 

The storm above pounding harder, lightning throwing stark shadows across blood-slick floors. For a second, there was peace. You turned, eyes locking with Sylus. Both of you are bloody, breathing hard.

“Shit,” you muttered, heart pounding. “They’re not stopping.”

“Rudy is still watching. Betting on how long we last.” Sylus looked toward the far corner, eyes narrowing. 

Your mind races, trying to piece together the cause of this relentless surge of Wanderers and then it hits. If Rudy was working with Ever Group, then he’d have access to the kind of tech that could manipulate MetaFlux fluctuations. Your thoughts flashback to the case at Linkon University with Xavier, that almost killed him. The case with Zanye in Chansa City. Shit.

“If the MetaFlux keeps destabilizing like this… it could trigger a Protofield” The thought alone makes your blood run cold. And if that happens… you’re fucked. Badly. You curse under your breath, ducking beneath a burst of debris as a Wanderer barrels past. You don’t have the gear, the backup, or the strength for something like that right now. Then you realize, you sent Caleb after Rudy, what if he doesn't know about that technology. 

“I need to find Caleb—”

“Absolutely not.” He was in front of you before the sentence finished leaving your mouth, “No.” He said, “You’ve done enough. More than enough. You’re already at your limit. I won’t let you throw yourself into something worse.”

You opened your mouth, but he shook his head. “The Colonel can handle himself.”

You want to protest. But… he’s right. How are you supposed to reach Caleb if you can’t take five steps without the world spinning? Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms. Your only hope is Caleb. You pray he finds Rudy before it's too late. Because if he doesn’t shut this down the source, you're definitely won’t make it out alive. Neither of you. You moved again. Together. Shooting, reloading, ducking, slashing. You lost track of time, of wounds. Of how many fell before you. Your arms ached, your legs burned.

As Sylus deals with some guards, you begin to feel a wave of dizziness wash over you, your chest tightening painfully. You keep moving but something’s wrong. Your vision doubles for a second just a flicker but it’s enough to make you stumble. You gasped, but the air was too thin, every inhale shallow. Your heart hammers out of rhythm. Your fingers twitch, jittering like static is trapped beneath your skin. Something inside you is burning. You can feel it. Your heart is near to explode.

Panic claws at your chest, suffocating every cell. You can’t tell what’s real anymore. Are you breathing too fast or not at all? Did you just fire your weapon or were you remembering it? Did someone scream or was that your own voice in your head? 

What’s happening to me? 

It feels like your insides are being ripped apart. Fragments of memories flood back, faces, hands, a cold room, a pulse monitor screaming in your ears. You see yourself strapped down, the needle piercing your neck, and you feel it again. That same burn, but this time, it’s not leaving.

You feel it in your bloodstream. That goddamn serum. Chimera 1X9, merging with every molecule in your body. The Protocore Syndrome, the adrenaline, the heat of the moment. Your desperation. All of it colliding, morphing, you can feel the war being waged beneath your skin. It’s awakening, calling you.  

“Having your soul torn apart and all, it’s not that unbearable?”

The echo of his voice, that voice of the unknown face that hunts in your fragmented memories. His face is still a blur in your mind but merged so easily with Sylus face. The man who kidnapped you under a red moon, the one whose hands were calloused but so soft as he touched you, whose voice was dark velvet laced. A conceited devil who mocked you. After resonating with him the first time, some part of your soul recognized him, your soul had been looking for his across lifetimes.

You remember his hands on your skin, the possessive way he pulled you closer even when you were trying to push him away. The way he looked at you when you weren’t watching. Every moment flashes through your mind now like lightning. The field of flowers, a trial, feeling persecuted, crying uncontrollably, the weight of guilt, fire, and blood. A life locked away and then condemned as a sacrifice. 

“Are you trying to move me with your human love?” 

You slid down to one knee, sucking in a breath that burns. Your ribs scream. Your hand trembled violently. You felt like you were fracturing, piece by agonizing piece. You want to reach for him. Deep in your chest, a faint glow pulsed beneath your skin – an unbreakable tether, a connection that even death couldn't sever.

“Unfortunately... the string of fate connecting us can't be cut that easily.”

There’s a name you’ve heard in dreams. A promise, etched into the fabric of another life. Bound by a curse that you can’t remember fully. You clutch at your chest, trying to steady yourself, but it feels like something inside you is about to snap. You remember the line of the report:

If instability persists, termination may be required before critical system failure occurs. Subject must be transferred immediately.

The panic only makes it worse, and every second drains more of your strength.

“Sylus…” you whisper, your voice trembling, there’s no strength left in you to call out properly. In the split-second between killing one of Rudy’s guards and turning to face another, Sylus’s head whipped around. His eyes found you instantly and his face changed. 

As you collapse, everything around you feels distante. The floor feels cold against your skin, and your body goes limp, no longer able to fight the overwhelming pain. Sylus rushes to your side, his every movement filled with urgency. His heart skips a beat as he sees you lying there, weak and fragile, the once defiant fire in your eyes fading into exhaustion and pain.

Sylus kneels beside you, his hands gentle but firm as he checks for a pulse. Your chest heaving with uneven breaths, your skin pale, and your heartbeat erratic. Panic digs its nails into his mind, refusing to let go. He can't lose you. Not like this. Not again.

“Look at me,” he said sharply, voice cracking through your haze. “Look at me, kitten. Stay with me.” Your lips trembled. You wanted to speak, tell him that you were scared. That something was wrong. But all you could do was clutch his wrist, grounding yourself with the only thing that still felt real.

You see his face blurred, like something out of a dream you’re not sure you’re still in. His brows are drawn tight, jaw clenched, eyes moving in rapid flicks over your face like he’s counting every breath you take. Your heart slams against your ribcage, each beat like a fist from inside, slower… deeper… louder. The world feels distant. Muffled. Like you're underwater and everything is just out of reach. Fingers brushing over your bruised jaw, the bandages at your side. You’re terrified. 

The night fog envelops you, and you're caught in what might as well be a long, chaotic nightmare. When you wake, you're surrounded by a red valley filled with blooming red datura. Your arms are heavy. You look down—and see a huge, horned creature cradled in your grasp. You’re holding it as it dies. You don’t know why you're here. You only vaguely remember something about a dragon in a pitch-black chapel. You try desperately to remember. But the last clear image you have of the dragon ends on that blood-soaked night beneath the moon Everything afterward is shattered shredded fragments, scattered and incomplete. You can’t remember if you finished playing that piece.

“This promise will never be broken.”

But your lips curl into a faint, broken smile before the serum’s burning again in your system. 

Sylus sees it and it knocks the breath from his lungs. That smile. He doesn’t understand. Why are you smiling now? His composure cracking beneath that damn smug mask he always wears for everyone else. His voice catches in his throat.

“Kitten…?”

︶︶°︶︶

Caleb moved through the shadows like a blade. Anyone who stood in his way didn’t last long. Around the next bend, a knot of armed guards materialized, their harsh whispers echoing in the sterile air. Caleb didn't break stride. He simply raised a hand, a subtle gesture that belied the immense power he wielded. 

The air itself seemed to compress, the atmospheric pressure plummeting with unnatural speed. A collective gasp escaped the guards’ lips as their bodies began to implode, bones crunching, flesh yielding, their forms contorting into grotesque parodies of human shapes before collapsing inward with sickening finality, like discarded puppets. Caleb stepped over the mangled remains without so much as a downward glance.

He tracked Rudy’s panicked scent to a grimy service door tucked away near the rear of the facility. The man was fumbling with the lock, his movements jerky and desperate. Caleb used his evol to put pressure on the door, preventing it from opening in either direction.

“Running already?” Caleb’s voice was low, sharp.

Rudy froze. “You’re making a mistake,” he said quickly.

“Am I?” Caleb stepped closer. “You didn’t just take her, you piece of shit. You took others . Hunters. Civilians. People who were never supposed to be part of this.”

Rudy’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. Caleb moved again, closing the distance. “And now you’re going to tell me how Sylus fits into all of it.” Rudy hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Caleb moved another step closer, his presence a palpable threat.

“This is your only chance. Talk.” Caleb’s tone left no room for argument.

Rudy’s hands shot up in a pathetic gesture of appeasement, his face a mask of desperation as he stumbled backwards. “It was… efficient. Two for the price of one. Ever gave me the target. Imagine my surprise when it was the same little toy clinging to Sylus. Take out the beast, deliver the girl – bigger payout for me. I didn't expect that Professor's dog would show up.”

Caleb’s face remained a rigid mask of fury, his eyes like glacial shards that could freeze bone. ��What. Did they do. To her?”

“They tested something… something new. A serum, made from Protoflux readings. Chimera 1X9” Rudy’s words spilled fast, desperate. “Look, I swear on everything I hold dear – I don’t know the specifics of their sick experiments. I just deliver them. That’s it. My part ends there.”

A cold dread washed over Caleb as Rudy's words clicked into place, forming a horrifying picture. They pumped that shit into her . He didn’t have time for this. Letting Rudy breathe another second was a goddamn invitation for disaster, especially knowing what the bastard knew – Caleb's face, even who the fuck he answered to. The thought of the Professor getting wind of this… No. Loose ends got people buried. This piece of shit wasn't walking out of here. Decision made. He was going to enjoy this.

Suddenly, a monstrous figure smashed through the wall behind Rudy, tendrils of dark energy crackling around its grotesque form. A Wanderer, its eyes burning with malevolent intent, lunged for the defenseless Rudy.

Instinct took over. Before Rudy could even scream, Caleb moved with lightning speed, a blur of motion. He slammed into Rudy, throwing him out of the Wanderer’s path just as razor-sharp claws tore through the air where the man had been standing. The Wanderer roared in frustration, its attention now fully fixed on Caleb.

Caleb’s cold gaze snapped back to Rudy. “You were saying?”

Rudy swallowed hard, his fear now compounded with a fresh layer of terror. “Okay, okay! There’s… there’s a Metaflux destabilizer. I activated it when I realized things were going south. It’s overloading the containment fields.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You suicidal idiot! Get it off. Now.” His voice was a low, lethal command.

Rudy scrambled back, shaking his head frantically. “I… I don’t know how! It’s on a timer! A failsafe!”

Caleb snarled, his face inches from Rudy’s, his eyes blazing with a terrifying mix of fury and desperation. “You're coming with me. Right now. You're going to deactivate that damn thing.” He didn't wait for a response, dragging the whimpering Rudy along the debris-strewn corridor, the screeching of the approaching Wanderers growing louder with each passing second.

They rounded a corner, and two more Wanderers, their forms flickering in and out of phase with reality, lunged at them from the shadows. Caleb didn’t even break his stride. With a flick of his wrist, a gravitational force slammed into the creatures, sending them spinning into the walls with bone-jarring impacts. They slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned.

“It’s in the main control room!” Rudy shrieked, his eyes wide with terror as he glanced back at the downed Wanderers, their guttural snarls echoing behind them. 

A few breathless, chaotic moments later, Caleb and a whimpering Rudy burst into the main control room. Sparks rained down from damaged consoles, alarms blared with deafening intensity, and the air crackled with unstable energy. Several Wanderers were already tearing through the room, their grotesque forms ripping apart equipment with savage abandon.

Caleb hurled Rudy towards a central console, its screens flickering with chaotic data streams. “There! The destabilizer! Find the override!”

Rudy stumbled, his eyes darting frantically over the complex array of buttons and holographic displays. “I… I don’t see it! It 's encrypted!”

Another Wanderer lunged at Rudy, its razor-sharp claws extended. Before Caleb could intervene, Rudy yelped and scrambled backwards, tripping over a fallen console. The creature was on him in an instant.

With a snarl of pure rage, Caleb unleashed a focused blast of energy, tearing through the Wanderer’s chest, sending it collapsing in a heap of shimmering flesh. “Focus fucker, I don’t have all night for this.”

Rudy, spurred by a terror that finally eclipsed his self-preservation instincts, mashed frantically at the console. Sparks flew from his fingertips as he bypassed security protocols, lines of code scrolling across the damaged screens in a chaotic blur.

Finally, a holographic interface flickered to life on the console, displaying a large red icon labeled METAFLUX DESTABILIZER — EMERGENCY OVERRIDE. Rudy’s trembling finger hovered over it.

A violent tremor tore through the floor beneath their feet, a deep, guttural groan emanating from the very foundations, as if the earth itself was tearing apart. The building convulsed.  Chunks of concrete and twisted metal rained down from the ceiling like deadly hail. The violent upheaval sent Caleb staggering, his normally rock-solid balance betraying him. He stumbled, his head colliding with a jagged piece of falling debris. A searing pain lanced through his skull, and the world dissolved into a swirling blackness. Consciousness flickered and died.

When his senses returned, the building was still groaning its death throes. His head throbbed with a sickening intensity, and his vision swam. Disoriented, he blinked, trying to clear the fog in his mind. Caleb’s head snapped towards Rudy, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What the fuck did you—?” 

Rudy lay crushed beneath a chunk of fallen ceiling, Blood soaked the concrete. The console, however, remained stubbornly intact, its holographic display still pulsing. Caleb didn't give the pulped remains a second glance. At least one less problem.

His only focus was you. He reached for the console, his hand hovering over the glowing icon, a moment's hesitation before the inevitable. Then, with a decisive thrust, he plunged his fingers into the light.

He had to get to you. He turned and ran, the image of you, vulnerable and possibly suffering, burning in his mind. He had to know if you were safe. If you were alive. And if that serum had touched you… he didn’t even dare finish the thought.

︶︶°︶︶

A violent surge of energy explodes tearing through the air with a deafening roar. A soundless eruption of pure, unleashed power. The shockwave rips through the building, slamming into walls and sending debris crashing to the ground. Steel beams shuddered, the ground beneath them buckling as the full impact of the blast tore through the building’s core. The boxes in the hall were explosives, which had further increased the shock wave. Flames ignite in the corners, curling up the walls, the heat suffocating. The ground shakes violently, and the ceiling cracks, chunks of concrete and metal falling to the floor.

None of the guards or Wanderers in the blast radius survive. Their bodies are torn apart, some vaporized on impact, others shredded by debris or crushed beneath the collapsing ceiling. Blood stains the floor before it’s swallowed by fire. The creatures never stood a chance. Not against that.

The force of the blow launched Sylus across the room, his body crashing against the ground with a sickening thud. For a moment, he doesn’t move. His ears ring. His vision doubles. The back of his skull throbs with sharp, pulsing pain. He groans, dragging himself to his elbows. 

What the hell just happened?

Sylus stumbles to his feet, wincing as his shoulder protests violently. A deep gash split the skin above his brow, blood spilling in slow, relentless rivulets that smeared down his temple and into his eye, blurring his vision. For anyone else, surviving an explosion like that would be a miracle. Even Sylus, with a body built to endure hell, has taken real damage and healing will take time. His jacket is torn at the seams, scorched and ragged, barely hanging on one side. Smoke curls from the charred fabric, revealing fresh cuts and bruises beneath. 

He ripped off what was left of his jacket, the scorched fabric falling from his shoulders. His shirt beneath was no better, ripped, soot-stained, and clinging to him in damp patches from sweat and blood. His crimson eyes, shadowed beneath blood and ash, searched the chaos for one thing. You.

You’re still glowing in the center of it all, body trembling. The flames spread quickly, licking at the walls, the heat unbearable. The whole place is a firestorm now, with walls caving in and the air thick with smoke. Sylus feels the heat on his skin as he tries to get back to you. He’s barely able to move before another wave of Rudy's men burst in, weapons drawn, and the chaos only escalates. Wanderers are also not giving a break. 

The building is coming apart, fire spreading in all directions. The rain that fell wasn’t enough to quench the hell that had broken loose. Seeing the number of enemies that are piling up, a retreat would be the most logical option. This just escalated beyond anything Sylus had prepared for. He glances back at you, lying unconscious on the ground. His heart clenches and his mind reels. He’d felt the moment it changed when your body twisted with pain, when something inside you fractured… and then detonated. This came from you . From deep inside your chest. The shockwave, the surge, the impossible energy of your aether core.

He doesn’t understand how or why. Surely, you’re not supposed to look like that, too still, too pale, eyes dazed and body swaying in the firestorm. Sylus cradles you in his arms, his grip desperate yet impossibly gentle, as if holding you too tightly might shatter what little remains of your fragile state. His mind screams at him to fix it, to make everything right. Your life hangs by a thread, and he feels it slipping through his fingers. His blood boils. His chest tightens. He should’ve known. He’s the one with half of your soul. The one who’s supposed to feel these things before they happen.

“Y/N…” he whispers, his voice breaking, raw with emotion he’s never allowed himself to show. The words tremble on his lips, his heart shattering with each syllable. “Open your eyes.”

But there’s no response. Your skin grows pale, the faint warmth that once comforted him now barely perceptible against the coldness of the moment. His heart drops into an abyss. You weren’t supposed to die like this. Not in his arms, not with ash in the air and your blood on his hands. Not when he had just gotten you back.

He pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand cradling your head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You’re not allowed to leave him. Not after everything.

The anger, sorrow, and bloodlust churn inside him, an unbearable storm that demands release. Sylus has waited lifetimes for this, for you. Burned through empires. Spilled oceans of blood. All to get to you to share a future together. 

“My beloved…” His voice is barely there now. He kissed your temple. “Don’t do this...”

Something inside breaks. Sylus, the man one who has conquered with nothing more than his calm demeanor and his cold, calculating presence. The one they all feared. But now, as he stands in the wreckage, there is no cool detachment. There is no indifferent strategist. His expression is tight, his jaw set with a fury that has never before surfaced. His right eye, glowing like a dying star, reflects the turmoil inside him. Anger, sorrow and bloodlust twist together in a blinding maelstrom.

His evol built a shield around him as gunfire echoes through the space. The screams of the fallen mingle with the guttural roars of the Wanderers, their twisted forms wreaking havoc as they tear through what remains. 

The color of life drains from your body, and Sylus feels your soul slipping away. The unbearable realization rips through him like the swore you once put through his heart. His hands tremble as he pulls you tighter, pressing his forehead against yours, as if proximity alone could will your heart to keep beating. Your blood stains his clothes, seeping into the fabric, marking him with a reminder of the choices he’s made. He should’ve known better. Made Luke and Kieran drag you out the moment things went wrong. He should’ve blown Rudy’s empire to hell the second he found it and killed him the moment he laid eyes on you. He should’ve protected you.

His world tilts, and for the briefest moment, he sees nothing but darkness. A guttural, bestial roar erupts from his throat, raw and uncontained. The sound echoes through the crumbling warehouse like a harbinger of doom. 

“I let them see what a true fiend is.” 

When Sylus rises he doesn't rise as a man. He rises as wrath made flesh. Black and crimson mist swirled around him, tendrils of darkness coiling and writhing, punctuated by violent bursts of static electricity that snapped and crackled like miniature lightning storms. The atmosphere around him began to ripple, distorting with an unnatural, oppressive energy. His already tattered and battle-scarred clothing tore apart, shredding as if assaulted by unseen claws, as massive, obsidian wings erupted from his back.

They burst forth with terrifying force, their edges jagged and sharp, like shards of volcanic glass. Black horns, sharp and menacing, twisted upward from his skull, their base glowing faintly with the heat of his rage. Black scales cover part of his body and face. His eyes burned with a fearless, deathly glow, a crimson so vivid it seemed otherworldly. His gaze was void of humanity, carrying the weight of a predator awakened. A monster. A dragon.

The wings unfurled, stretching wide, their sheer size eclipsing the flickering flames that danced around him, casting long, ominous shadows that swallowed the light and plunged the warehouse into a terrifying twilight. 

Flames surged higher, licking at the steel beams and threatening the stability of the structure. Smoke and embers choked the air as debris began to rain down. Sylus raises his gaze from your face slowly, though still human in shape, his transformation into a mythical creature, a being feared throughout the history of humanity, was undeniable. 

The cacophony of gunfire falters. The armed men, ruthless moments ago, now freeze in terror. They stare at him, their weapons trembling in their hands. Through the blaze and destruction, Sylus appears like a wrathful deity descending into their midst. They can’t believe what they see, but it won’t matter. They won't live to share their story. Doom’s day has arrived, and it wears the guise of Sylus. 

Inside the building, the screams are like a twisted symphony, something out of a nightmare. Blood streaks the floors and walls, pooling around bodies that are barely recognizable. The smell of burnt flesh is everywhere, impossible to ignore. No matter who they are, humans or wanderers, everything must be annihilated until not a single being remains.

Through it all, Sylus never lets you go. You’re still in his arms, your fragile body limp against his chest. One arm holds you close, shielding you from the chaos. He holds you with all the gentleness he has left, while with the other he tears through anything that dares to get close.

It’s hard to tell how long it’s been. Time feels meaningless in the middle of this chaos. Sylus doesn’t stop to think or hesitate; he’s a blur of rage. There’s no satisfaction in it for him, no enjoyment in the bloodshed. Even as blood splashes across his face and claws, even as the flames climb higher, he never lets go. The massacre isn’t vengeance. It’s desperation, pure and unrelenting.

The hatred inside him feels like it’s eating him alive, fueling every swing, every strike. All he can think about is you, lying against him. He can feel the faint pulse of your heartbeat, and it’s the only thing grounding him, the only thing keeping him from completely losing himself.

Part of him wonders if fate is playing a cruel trick on him, once again drenched in blood, slaughtering everything in sight just to keep you alive. He prays with every ounce of his being that history won’t repeat itself. That he won’t lose control again. That the dragon’s curse won’t devour what’s left of his humanity and force him to relive the same doomed ending. 

Luke and Kieran were locked in their own brutal skirmish in the far corner of the building when they heard the roaring. 

"Is that…?" Luke started, his voice barely audible over the massacre as he hurled a knife, embedding it perfectly in the skull of an approaching enemy. Kieran, a few paces behind, drove his elbow into the throat of another, crushing it before slamming the body into a wall with a sickening crunch. 

The twins sprinted through the labyrinth of burning corridors, lungs searing as smoke clawed its way down their throats, the heat pressing in from all sides like a living thing.

When they reached the threshold of the main hall, they skidded to a halt, blocked by a searing wall of heat.

“Shit,” Luke hissed, shielding his face with his arm. “We can’t get through!”

The firestorm raged ahead of them. Smoke billowed upward, churning with glowing embers. Through the haze, distorted by heat shimmer and ash, they saw him. A towering silhouette cloaked in smoke and glowing blood-red eyes.

“Boss?” Luke asked, his tone edged with equal parts awe and apprehension. “Is he...?”

Kieran took a single step back, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck me…” he muttered, eyes wide. The rumors, the whispers, Sylus’s true nature wasn’t just legend to them anymore. From the heart of the inferno, they watched his black form move. The shadows bent around him. Every Wanderer, every guard who dared approach was torn apart, reduced to ash and splintered in seconds.

Sylus was done. The chaos, the screams, the blood, it was all taking too long, and he was done wasting time. His patience had run dry, and the growing inferno in his chest told him it was time to finish this. Completely.

Through the smoke and slaughter, his sharp eyes caught sight of Luke and Kieran slicing through the last wave of resistance. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Good.

“Luke, Kieran” Sylus called, his voice cutting through the madness like a blade. The twins turned to him immediately. “Blow the place. If the Colonel is still inside, get him out.” His voice was steel and fire. “She’ll never forgive me if he dies here.” He said, his tone leaving no room for argument. A beat passed. Just enough time for the gravity of his words to settle. “You know what to do” 

Kieran gave a mock salute, while Luke raised his thumb in approval.

“Got it, boss!” Luke said, taking the detonator out of his pocket, already setting the timer.

“This is the best part,” Kieran added, his excitement almost childlike as he looked at the detonator. “Fireworks time!”

Sylus didn’t linger to watch them work. With you still cradled in his arms, his wings unfurled in a massive sweep, scattering ash and debris. With a powerful leap, he took to the air, rising through the collapsing roof of the warehouse. Flames licked at the edges of his wings as he flew higher, his grip on you protective yet firm.

Luke and Kieran sprinted through the smoke-filled corridors, weaving between collapsing beams and scorched debris. The heat was rising, and time was running out. Luck or something close to it was on their side. As they rounded the corner of a fractured hallway, they nearly ran straight into Caleb. The colonel stood like a statue, framed by flickering firelight, soot streaking his cheek, eyes locked on something distant and unseen.

“Oh, there you are,” Luke said casually, like they'd just bumped into him in a grocery store.

Kieran offered a lopsided grin, casually flipping the detonator between his fingers. “We’re about to blow up the entire party. So unless you’re feeling nostalgic about your last brush with death, you might wanna move your ass.”

Caleb didn’t answer. His eyes were distant, locked on the burning horizon where Sylus had taken flight. Where you had disappeared. He definitely needs to get his head checked, what he just saw must have been an illusion. Caleb shook his head. He didn’t have the patience for snar. 

“Where is she?” His voice was low, hoarse like it had been dragged through gravel.

Luke gave a half-shrug. “Boss took care of her. We’re kind of in the middle of blowing shit up, though, so…”

“Where?” Caleb snapped, the fire back in his eyes, fury crackling at the edges of his voice.

Kieran looked over to his brother and then back to Caleb “Uh, we saved her, big guy. A thank you wouldn’t kill you.”

“Sure…” Caleb growled.

Unbothered, Luke pulled the detonator from his pocket and checked the timer. “We’ve got ninety seconds. You staying here to play martyr, or are you coming with us?”

Caleb exhaled slowly, dragging his hand down his face but he followed the two. 

“Man’s got issues," Kieran muttered.

“Yeah,” Luke muttered, eyes still on the timer. “We’ve got bigger ones if we don’t move.”

The three ran out as fast as they could, when they were far away enough to not get hit by the shock wave. Luke and Kieran stood by, both laughing like kids at a carnival. The warehouse erupted in a deafening explosion, fire and debris shooting into the night sky like a macabre display of fireworks. The twins watched the destruction with gleeful awe, reveling in the sheer chaos of it all.

“I love this job” Kieran said, brushing soot from his face.

“Best boss ever” Luke replied with a laugh, already heading for the exit.

︶︶°︶︶

You started to open your eyes a bit. You're not feeling good at all, the harsh wind confuses you.

“Sy...lus,” you whisper weakly. You don't know if your dreams have become intertwined with your reality. His face hovers above yours but half of it is cloaked in dark, glimmering scales. Something stirs deep inside you, rising like a tide through your body. You simply smile.

“Don't talk,” he says softly, his voice strained with emotion.

Sylus soared through the night sky above the N109 Zone, the wind howling past his ears as the ruined city sprawled beneath him. His eyes locked onto the distant glow of Philip’s Odd Workshop. His landing is gentle at the back of the building. The massive black wings folded once, then dissolved tendrils of red-black mist curling off his back, twisting like smoke in the cold air before vanishing into nothing. The claws, the fangs, the otherworldly edges gone in an instant. There he stood once more, just a man.

Still cradling your limp form in his arms, he burst through the back entrance. He cleared a space on one of the cluttered worktables with a brutal sweep of his arm, tools, gears, and strange half-finished contraptions clattered violently to the floor. He laid you down gently, but his hands trembled. Sylus could have flown you to Akso Hospital, to your doctor but he had the feeling that icy Zayne wouldn't be able to fix this. This wasn’t a wound of flesh.

“Phillip!” 

The man rushed out from the back room, the sound of Sylus’s voice having shattered the late-night quiet like a bomb. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the blood, the smoke still clinging to Sylus’s ruined clothes, and you motionless, pale.

“Mister Sylus?”

“I need your help. Now.” Sylus’s tone was sharp, near frantic, something rarely heard from him.

Phillip blinked, trying to make sense of it all, but the moment his eyes landed on you, recognition snapped into place. He was across the room in seconds, rounding the table, checking your vitals. 

“What happened?” he asked, already scanning the extent of your injuries. Phillip’s hands worked with speed that betrayed his age. 

“An explosion. It could be her Aether Core.” Phillip’s eyes widened. 

Philip started to move around with urgency. Cabinets slammed open. Wires were uncoiled. Electrodes and diagnostic panels were yanked from drawers and wheeled across the floor. A cold sweat glistened at his brow as he pressed the final electrode gently against your sternum, just over the faintly beating heart in your chest. 

“Why did you bring her here? She should be in the hospital.” Phillip muttered, mostly to himself. “Under twenty-four-hour critical monitoring…”

“She won’t make it to a hospital,” Sylus cut in. “And you should know how to fix this.” Sylus replied hoarsely.

Phillip hesitated, visibly rattled. “Miss Josefin was the one who designed the failsafe systems. I... I wasn’t cleared for full access, but—” He exhaled sharply, steel slipping into his gaze. “Okay. I can try to stabilize the core… if there’s still time.”

His fingers moved swiftly across the panel, inputting commands, rerouting surge lines, recalibrating energy conduits on instinct and partial schematics.

“It’s bleeding into her cellular network, overclocking the nervous system, fusing with her neural patterns. Her whole body is trying to evolve past what it can sustain.” Phillip swore under his breath. Your heart rate was erratic. Your heart rate jumped, then dropped. Spiked again. Vital signs flickered like a failing lightbulb on the edge of burning out.

Philip paused. His hands stilled. He looked up slowly, eyes shadowed, voice suddenly very quiet. 

“Mister Sylus…” he swallowed for a moment. “You’re asking me to patch a falling star with duct tape.” Philip hesitated, then added, softly like the truth might kill him just by saying it. “The last time I saw her vitals like this… she died.”

Sylus wants to cry, but the tears won’t come. It’s been millennia since they last did. The weight of his failure presses down on him, a corrupting force that leaves him feeling torn apart inside. He couldn’t protect you, and the guilt is unbearable. He sat down next to you. He reached for your cold fingers, pressing them between his hands. Sylus bowed his head, his forehead brushing the edge of the table, his breath shallow.

You stir faintly, your fragile movements drawing his attention. His head snapped up, eyes burning as they locked onto yours. Your lashes fluttered. Your breathing was shallow but you managed to open your eyes. The world around you swam in fractured light and shadow, but his face was clear. The way his gem-like eyes searched yours like a man clinging to his last hope.

You felt cold and hot all at once. Your skin clammy, sweat dampening your hairline, and yet inside of you, everything was burning. Melting. Breaking apart. The sparkle he always admired in your gaze was barely there now, dulled and fading.

“R...resonate with me,” you whispered. 

“No!” He shook his head immediately, torn from his chest as if it physically pained him. You pressed his hand weakly. You want to feel his warmth, to remind yourself you’re still here, even as your body grows colder.

“Please...” The word was barely a breath. 

Sylus hesitates, torn by doubt. Granting you this wish is too dangerous, you have no energy left to spare. The thought of you using the last bit of strength in you terrifies him. Philip, who had hovered nearby, opened his mouth, concerned with sharpening his tone. 

“Mister Sylus, that’s not—”

“Leave us alone for a moment....” he cuts Philips, took a deep breath and added “...please.” 

Philip hesitated, glanced between the two of you and then nodded, retreating into the shadows of the workshop with silent urgency. Sylus leaned closer, brushing a strand of damp hair from your forehead. His breath trembled against your skin.

“If I resonate with you now, you could die...”

His eyes squeezed shut, and for a timeless moment, the chaos around you both faded. There was only the fragile warmth of your skin against his, the shallow whisper of your breath against his cheek. He breathed you in, a silent act of devotion, memorizing the feel of you, the scent of you, the very essence of your fading presence. 

“Trust… me, please.” A single tear escaped the corner of your eye, tracing a lonely path down your temple. “Can you do that?” Another tear followed, and then another, silent testament to the fear and the desperate hope clinging to your heart.

Finally he lets out a sigh. Reluctantly, he intertwined his hand with yours, his grip firm but gentle. A faint, fragile smile flickered across your lips. With the last shred of strength you can muster, you push your energy through your hand, trying to show him... You weren’t sure what he’d feel. You only hoped he’d understand.

Sylus finally yielded, his fingers tightening around yours as the resonance began. A wave of heat floods your body, flowing from him to you, and vice versa. It's overwhelming, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety and comfort. It feels so good, so pure. For a moment, the pain subsides, replaced by an all-encompassing feeling of love. You can sense it in every fiber of your being: his devotion, his desperation, his refusal to let go.

And if this is the last time you will feel this way, if this is your final moment... then it’s worth it. Spending the last remnants of your energy to share this connection with him, this fleeting perfection it’s enough. You let yourself sink into the sensation, the world around you fading as his warmth becomes your entire universe.

As the resonance deepens, the warmth flooding through you brings clarity, and with it, memories long buried. Fragments of another life, your life with him, begin to surface. Images, emotions, fleeting moments of joy and sorrow, all coming together like a puzzle you didn’t know was incomplete. More tears slipped down your cheeks.

Your heart aches, not just from the pain, but from the overwhelming realization that you’ve loved him all along, not just these past months, but lifetimes ago. A love so enduring it has transcended time, waiting patiently for you to remember. 

Sylus’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face as he pulled back just slightly, just enough to see you, to make sure what he felt wasn’t some cruel illusion. His gaze searched yours, stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just felt. Whatever you had just given him, it hit something buried deep inside. And it shattered him. His breath hitched.

You struggle to speak, your voice trembling but determined. “Sylus…” you take a ragged breath “I...I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Everything we had… you sacrificed… yourself.”

His eyes widen slightly even more, searching for the meaning behind your words. His grip on your hand tightens, the raw emotion in his eyes betraying the composure he tries so hard to maintain.

“I’m sorry for being so greedy” you continue, “I loved you so much, I couldn’t- I couldn’t let you die.”

Your free hand weakly moves to his face, brushing against his cheek. He leans into your touch like a man starved for it. His warmth grounds you, and though you’re so tired, the weight of those words lifts something heavy from your chest. For a fleeting moment, everything feels right, as if the universe itself pauses to acknowledge your truth.

His face twists. He presses your hand, shuddering breath escapes him. And for the first time in centuries, Sylus cries. His shoulders trembling as the tears silently streamed down his face.

“You remembered” Sylus's voice grows hoarser. You wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

“Sincere feelings are hard to forget... you said that.”

His hand moves to cradle your face, his touch impossibly gentle despite the storm of emotions raging within him. For a man who always seemed unshakable, the vulnerability in his gaze is staggering. Without hesitation, Sylus pushed his power surging through you like a tidal wave. The warmth intensifies, and for a moment, it feels as if the very essence of his soul is pouring into you. Your injuries begin to mend, the pain receding as his energy knits your broken body back together. The fractures, the wounds, even the exhaustion, everything is erased as if the damage had never existed.

Sylus’s face is pale, the strain of using his Evol to such an extent evident, but he doesn’t stop. His only focus is you. “You’re not allowed to leave me then,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Ever.”

As the last of your injuries heal, you feel a strange mixture of relief and guilt. He’s given so much of himself to save you, and the depth of his love is almost overwhelming. You want to tell him everything, to promise you’ll stay but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you made a small, almost imperceptible movement, a silent attempt to rise. Instantly, he was there, his strong arms scooping you up, cradling you against his chest. A soft smile touched your lips, your fingers brushing against his chest. The warmth of his touch and the depth of his love lingering in your fading awareness. But the world around you begins to blur, the colors fading to a dull haze. You feel tired, incredibly tired, and you wish you could extend this moment a few more moments. A desperate longing bloomed in your chest, a selfish wish to stretch this moment. Just a few more breaths held in his arms, a few more heartbeats echoing against yours.

“My beloved dragon…” You whisper, your voice barely a breath. “I’ll always… be… with you.”

Your vision dims further, the light in your eyes vanishing as exhaustion overtakes you. Everything goes dark, a void swallowing you whole. The last thing you hear is Sylus’s voice, frantic and filled with desperation, calling your name. And then, softer, closer, a broken confession whispered against your hair, carried on trembling lips.

“I love you.” 

The words echo in the emptiness as you slip away, an inevitable pull of the darkness claiming you completely.

Six weeks later.

It’s a rainy day, the kind that turns the world into a grayscale painting. The radio murmurs in the background, its words cold and distant:

“After weeks of investigation, the police have officially closed the case on the death of Miss (Y/N). Her untimely passing during a critical mission in the N109 Zone marked the end of an extraordinary life…”

The radio clicks off abruptly. The soft patter of rain against the car window fills the silence, a maddeningly persistent sound. He sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. His gaze was fixed on the water cascading down the glass. Finally, as if pulled by an invisible string, he reached for the door handle. He stepped out into the downpour, the cold rain instantly soaking his clothes, the umbrella lying forgotten on the passenger seat. He stood there, exposed and vulnerable, the gray world mirroring the desolate landscape of his heart.

The path to the graveyard is narrow, slick with mud and rain. He carries a bouquet of flowers, their vibrant colors muted in the dreary light. Each step feels heavier than the last, his shoots sinking slightly into the wet ground.

He reached your grave, nestled beside your grandmother's. Gently, reverently, he placed the flowers against the cold stone of your headstone. His hands lingered there, trembling almost imperceptibly, his shoulders hunched as if bearing an unbearable weight. “I couldn’t…” The words were a broken whisper, torn from a throat raw with grief. His heart felt equally shattered. “I told you to be careful…”

He clenches his fists tightly, his knuckles white as the storm rages around him. The words escape in a choked growl, swallowed by the rain. The man kneeling before your grave was a shadow of his former self. His black coat clings to his soaked form, water dripping from his hair onto his hollow cheeks. The once vibrant green of his eyes, usually sharp and knowing, was now muted, dimmed by the dark circles that spoke of countless sleepless nights haunted by your absence. His expression, usually unreadable, is cracked open, revealing a pain he hasn’t allowed himself to feel fully.

He wants to cry, to let the dam break and let the anguish consume him, but he’s terrified. If he starts, he may never stop, not in hours, not in days.

The sharp ring of his phone cuts through the rain, jarring him back to the present. Slowly, he pulls it from his pocket, his voice cold and distant once more.

“Yes… I see. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Prepare the OR. Thanks.”

He lingers for a moment longer, staring at your name etched in stone before forcing himself to rise. Zayne hasn’t been the same since your death. The cracks in his carefully built facade are growing, but there’s no time to break. Duty calls. He walks back to the car, carrying the silence you left behind.

In the distance, the studio is in chaos, canvas after canvas leaning against walls, discarded paint-streaked brushes scattered on the floor, and a maddening array of half-finished portraits covering every surface. Each one is the same: your face.

Rafayel hasn’t stopped. Day and night, he paints obsessively, as if capturing you on the canvas might somehow bring you back. The smell of turpentine and oil paint lingers in the air, mixing with the suffocating weight of his grief. Yet, despite the feverish pace, there are moments when he sits in the corner, staring at the wreckage of his art, torn between the drive to create and the overwhelming desire to quit everything altogether.

At your funeral, he couldn’t bring himself to step closer. He stood at a distance, his broad frame cast in shadow, hands buried deep in his coat pockets to hide their trembling. The ceremony unfolded before him like a surreal play, his vision blurring as people wept and spoke of your life.

When they lowered you into the ground, Rafayel turned his face away, unable to watch. His heart felt like it was being wrenched from his chest. He stayed in the background until the last of the mourners departed, the sound of his uneven breaths lost to the wind. He would wait for you once more, waiting for the moment you will be reborn.

Xavier disappeared the moment your death was confirmed, leaving no trace, no explanation. It was as if he vanished into thin air. He didn’t attend the funeral, didn’t show up to any memorials or gatherings. No one knew where he went, not even the Hunter Association. He simply left, as if the world had become too much to bear after your loss.

Rumors spread, some said he was on another mission, others whispered that he had broken, retreating from the world to grieve in isolation. The truth was far different from what anyone had assumed. Xavier hadn't disappeared to grieve in silence, he had thrown himself into his work, desperate and consumed by a single goal. He was holed up in his spaceship, working tirelessly, but with no success. Every day, he scoured the endless streams of data, searching for a way to bring you back. He refused to believe the official story, that your death was just the result of a mission gone wrong. To him, it was all lies for the public. The idea that your death was a simple accident, part of a mission, felt like a betrayal of everything he knew about you. 

The N109 Zone had always been full of secrets, and Xavier was willing to sacrifice everything to uncover the truth, even if it meant losing himself in the process. But no matter how many leads he followed, no matter how many hours he spent in the darkness of his ship, the answers eluded him. Every failure, every dead-end only pushed him further into obsession. But he wouldn’t stop. 

The news of your death hit Caleb with denial and desperation. No. Not you. It can't be. He clung to the fragile hope of a terrible mistake, a cruel rumor that would soon be proven false. His love for you, a possessive tendril that had wrapped around his heart since childhood, twisted into a burning resentment. Someone had to be held accountable for this unbearable void in his world. And his gaze, sharp with suspicion and fueled by a desperate need for retribution, immediately landed on Sylus. He had taken you from him, either through direct action or by the mere fact of his existence in your life.

The Professor observed Caleb's devastation with a cold, calculating gaze. The raw, unraveling grief of his prized subject was a temporary setback, an inconvenient detour on the path to his grand design. While a flicker of annoyance might have crossed his features at the disruption, his mind quickly pivoted. Caleb's emotional fragility was a liability, a delay in his meticulously crafted plans. Other children, other evolvers – they were out there. He simply needed to find them, mold them, and continue his work. He would simply find another, perhaps even more potent, component to take its place. The grand experiment would continue.

The world kept spinning, relentlessly moving forward, and even for Sylus, life had to go on. Standing in the kitchen, he let the weight of the past few weeks settle on him, but the familiar routine of making coffee offered some small comfort. Since your death, everything has been more complicated. Cleaning up the mess after the shit show with Rudy was a massive effort, one that drained him more than he cared to admit. He took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth for just a moment.

Every piece had to be placed perfectly, from the fake mission briefing on your hunter watch to the carefully orchestrated setup of your death. Nothing could ever lead the investigation back to him or Onychinus. He couldn’t afford any loose ends.

Sylus sighed and poured himself another cup, this time filling it with tea. The calmness of the hot liquid briefly soothed him before the weight of the situation came crashing back. That night was more than a horrible nightmare. No matter how many times he reviewed the facts and the scenario, he always arrived at the same terrible conclusion: even if he had known about the serum and Ever’s experiments earlier, it wouldn’t have changed much. Even if he’d killed Rudy long ago, with Ever Group lurking in the shadows, the risk would’ve still been there.

He carried the two cups into his office, the ceramic clinking softly in the quiet room. From the old speaker in the corner, Chopin’s Waltz in A Minor played faintly, the delicate piano notes curling through the air like smoke—melancholy and timeless. He sank into his familiar chair, the leather creaking softly beneath him.

The faint light caught the exhaustion etched into his features, the shadows beneath his eyes a testament to the sleepless nights haunted by your memory. Healing from that night also took a long time. He had been forced to rely heavily on Luke and Kieran, entrusting them with responsibilities he would normally have shouldered himself. Despite their sometimes airheaded nature, they are loyal employees.

“We should not do that again,” Sylus murmured.

A small laugh came from across the room, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Why not? It worked, didn't it?” your voice teased, a familiar spark of mischief in its tone.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that spoke of both exasperation and a grudging admiration. “Sweetie,” he said, “you are breathtakingly reckless but... I must say, you never stop surprising me.”

“You were the one who so poetically declared I should go beyond the confines of light and shadow ,” you countered, a playful glint dancing in your eyes, mirroring the earlier mischief in your voice.

Sylus snorted, a short, almost disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Indeed,” he replies with a smirk. “My dramatic pronouncements do have a tendency to come back and bite me. However,” he emphasized, his eyes narrowing slightly, “I distinctly recall the phrasing step beyond, not faking your death .”

You settled deeper into the warmth radiating from the teacup cradled in your hands, a soft, almost contemplative expression on your face.

“It was necessary, Sylus,” you said quietly, the playful edge in your voice slipping away. “Ever won’t be looking for a corpse. This buys us time. Besides,” you added, putting the cup down again, your gaze lifting to meet his. “I didn’t exactly fake my death. I was dead.”

A shadow flickered across Sylus’s features, a momentary eclipse of the earlier amusement, as he straightened and moved with swift purpose to the sofa where you were curled. Without a word, you shifted into his embrace, a silent seeking of comfort and reassurance in his familiar presence. His arms closed around you, a protective embrace that spoke volumes of his fear, a tangible manifestation of his terror at the thought of losing you again.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “Even if I’m glad you came back,” he murmurs “we still don’t know how that was possible.” You leaned into his warmth, the steadiness of his heartbeat a soothing rhythm against your ear. 

“My Aether Core.” you say, your voice quiet but steady. “The power it has... I want to work with Phillip. Understand it.”

Sylus tightens his hold on you slightly, his gaze serious as he studies your face. “I won't let you play with it. It took twenty days for you to wake up from that coma.”

You nod slowly, eyes distant. Thoughts still tangled in the dark. “It felt like… like something inside me refused to let go.” Unsure how to finish the thought, you trail off. “I never thought I would do the same as Caleb.” you whisper finally. “Disappearing and visiting my own tomb.”

Sylus didn’t answer right away. He just held you tighter. You felt his breath against your hair, uneven. 

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I won’t leave you.”

When you finally opened your eyes, Sylus didn’t breathe. Twenty days. Twenty days of silence. Of your still hands and shallow breaths. The sorrow. The weight. His past, bleeding into yours. The sorceress and the dragon. It sounded like a myth. A girl cloaked in light, and a monster cloaked in fire. You had once tried to tame the beast with nothing but kindness and bare hands. And he had once promised to protect you, even as his world turned to ash. He’d failed before. He wouldn’t fail again. Even when something had changed in you after waking up. 

“Sylus…” Your voice, normally a melody of warmth and kindness, had now a sinister undertone. “What if… I want to destroy the world?” You moved a bit in his embrace, resting your temple against his, feeling his familiar warmth. When you looked into his eyes, the depth he saw there was no longer the clear pool of your soul, but a swirling vortex of shadow and greed. You didn’t blink. “Would you still stand by my side?”

He had glimpsed this nascent darkness in the moments after you awoke, a seed of something powerful taking root. Now, it was blossoming, and a strange sense of acceptance settled within him. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips, a mirror to the storm gathering within you. “You’ll always be free to do whatever you want when you’re with me.”

“It might be dangerous,” you warned.

He cupped your face, his thumbs tracing the delicate curve of your cheekbones, his gaze locked on the unsettling brilliance of your eyes. “I can handle it, kitten.”

Then you smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of your lips, and your left eye flared with a crimson intensity that echoed the same intensity that ignited in Sylus's right. In that shared incandescent flash, the truth resonated, undeniable and profound. The seal in your mind shattered. Your souls were no longer separate entities but two halves of a singular, formidable whole, every nuance of feeling laid bare. 

The sorceress had risen, and her dragon would unleash hell itself before letting her slip away again. A dark promise, a twisted vow whispered between two souls bound by a love that now embraced the shadows. They would let the world burn, and they would stand together in the ashes. After all, you and Sylus were the same.

True kindred spirits.

Navigator to MASTERLIST: SYLUS FANFICS

It’s been a long journey coming to the end of this story. Thank you for walking through the fire with them. For reading. For feeling. For staying until the very end.

This story came alive because I once read a short fic about a kidnapping, like month ago. It stayed with me and I thought, what if the rescue wasn’t short? What if it was messy, long, painful... and full of love and mystery. And so, "Let the World Burn" was born. I enjoyed it a lot.

Writing this meant more to me than I can explain. To everyone who read, commented, or quietly felt something along the way, you helped to bring this story on this platform. And for that, I’m endlessly grateful.

If you haven’t subscribed to my page yet, feel free to do so. One-shots and short stories will still pop up now and then and if you enjoyed this insane, sprawling fic, maybe you’ll find joy in the little ones too. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

With love, Salem

[lvmimis]

cw: japanese words interspersed, please correct me politely if there are mistakes. mild angst. reader is a doctor and does not speak Japanese well.

You sit cross-legged, back straight, facing the man before you who wears many hats when it comes to your relationship, some part savior, some part overlord, some part possibly friend, and other parts undefined. For tonight, he plays the role of language instructor, and as usual, you come with a list of words mulling in your head that you want to learn to better help you communicate with your patients. 

Soap. Wash. Cut. Break. Tear. Hungry. Stomachache. Tired. Lonely. Scared.

Tsukasa repeats the words to you in Japanese, then writes the words in Kanji, using the sharp edge of a rock and etching it gently into the stone floor between you. You watch him carefully every time, attempting to commit each stroke to memory. As if it matters. You don’t know when you’ll have paper, a chalkboard, a keyboard to record this writing.

Tsukasa enjoys this task he’s taken on more than you’d expect from looking at him. He doesn’t smile by default, his beautiful features kept at neutral, something which had previously made you afraid to ask too much of him, and kept your voice low and your words few, but you realize quickly that he smiles easier than you expected.The first time was at the curse you whispered sharply under your breath when you recalled the word Rabbit ( usagi ) wrong, saying Eel ( unagi ) with confidence. The second was the first time you traced your name in the katakana he wrote before you, and your eyebrows furrowed as you pressed harder to make the same marks and let out a sigh at the effort. The third was when you asked him to teach you the word for candy, and he taught you ame-chan , like he and his sister called it as children, you none the wiser as you repeated the word innocently. 

It’s odd that he chooses to do this and not Ukyo, you think, but Tsukasa’s fascination with you is nothing new, present practically since the day you were freed from stone. Tsukasa’s eyes flit often from your eyes to your lips as you speak, and you wonder if he thinks of more than just the way your teeth and tongue handle these new phonemes or if he thinks of something less innocent.

Innocent is not the word you’d use to describe him anyway. 

“Atama ga itai desu. I have a headache.” Tsukasa says.

You repeat after him. 

There’s a pause as he writes, and when he looks up again, you’re looking carefully at him, warily. He can’t read your expression, you’re trying very hard to conceal your feelings to him, but he can see the twitch of your lips as you contemplate your next words.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Question?” he asks.

He watches you swallow saliva, bracing yourself, then nod.

“Teach me the word for kill.”

The air grows cold seemingly quickly, or perhaps it’s just him. Your facial expression flickers, and your hands rest in your lap less comfortably. He already knows that you’re asking more than just the question. You have a way of speaking indirectly to prime a conversation that intrigues him, but he’s not sure how he appreciates the tactic used on him.

“Korosu. To kill.”

The words echo through the cave for some reason, and it’s almost comical to Tsukasa, that the word he likes less and less the more he talks to you seems to be the only one that wants to bounce off the rocky walls.

You nod.

Tsukasa scribbles the word that looks out of place with ‘headache’ and ‘fish’ then looks up at you expectantly.

“Will you repeat it?” he asks.

When you open your mouth next, it’s not what he asks you to do. Instead, you ask directly and firmly, “Tsukasa, have you ever killed a person?”

His heart sinks. His first impulse is to lie, your closed lips are quivering yet again, but he knows he cannot lie to you.

“Yes.”

He writes the word ‘dead body’ on the ground before him. Your eyes still bore into his skin as you watch him.

“Who?”

The question makes bile rise in his throat.

“You don’t need to know.”

He doesn’t look at you when he says it; he has the feeling you already know. You and Yuzuriha work side by side often, practicing your stitching in case of emergency. His stomach churns at the thought of you knowing, then he remembers that he rules this empire of might, it should come with the territory. 

You can’t judge him for doing what he has to.

And yet, as he watches you keep your lips pressed together, and the curl of your fingers against your palm, containing yourself, he wants so badly to tell you the opposite.

Your next question isn’t why. 

“Do you regret it?”

Tsukasa’s heart skips a beat. Your eyes meet his, a small shine to them in the dim light. You sit perfectly still. The word ‘kill’ and ‘dead body’ look larger than the rest of the words he’s written tonight. 

The truth is he does. The correct answer for who he is and what he means to portray is that he doesn’t. The answer he wants to give you the truth, it’s the answer you want to hear.

But right now he is your lord, not your friend.

“No,” he lies evenly. “It was necessary.”

He can see a flicker of mistrust in your eyes, and then you’re back to the same neutral face. He recognizes that mask well, he wears it often himself. Beneath both of your held expressions is an agitated pool of emotions. 

You want to call him a liar but you have no proof except a micro-expression and a moment of hesitation. 

Tsukasa killed Senku, his opponent, and will kill again, if necessary. Even if he smiles at you, even despite the furtive glances he thinks you don’t see, even if his voice is softer when he speaks to you, even if his hand envelops yours gently and warmly as he helps you write with the makeshift tools this sad age has to offer you.

You breathe in evenly.

“Can you say the phrase for heartache again?”

Tsukasa knows the word was headache. You don’t meet his eyes looking carefully at all the words he’s written and trying to commit them to memory.

“Kokoro ga itai desu ,” he says, anyway, and can feel the squeeze as if casting a spell on himself.

“Kokoro ga itai desu ,” you repeat. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

[four-loose-screws]

Etie Personality Analysis - Original Japanese vs. English Localization - Fire Emblem Engage

I've received 2 anons in regards to Etie, so I decided to do a full reading and analysis of her support conversation chains!

Even if I've seen her supports translated elsewhere, I'll still add my own commentary to be thorough, and just because I like to talk about FE support conversations that much.

First, I'll cover this anon.

I think the description that Etie speaks more formally, and like an 'ojou' type, in Japanese is pretty accurate.

Here's some notes I took while reading her support conversations (Not going to go into too much detail here, hopefully I describe enough that those without a basic understanding of Japanese can follow along well enough.):

She always ends her sentences with desu and masu. Sometimes even de gozaimasu. (For those who don't know much about the distinct difference between formal and casual Japanese speech, sentences in formal Japanese almost always end with either desu or masu tacked on. Informal Japanese drops them.)

Her 'I pronoun' is atakushi. (For those who don't know much about 'I pronouns' in Japanese, atakushi is not inherently for noblewoman only, but noblewomen tend to use it.)

She ends everyone's name with the suffix san (Equivalent to calling everyone "Miss/ Mrs." or "Mr.").

She ends many of her sentences in wa (わ) - not inherently formal or feminine - but is a common speech trait of noble ladies. Maribelle (from Awakening) is another character that stands out to me as using sentence-ending wa frequently.

She sometimes uses the 'polite' version of a word when one exists, like okata. (Kata is a general word meaning "person." Often used like a pronoun. Adding prefix 'o' makes the word more polite.)

This is not an exhaustive list by any means, but gets the point across.

In conclusion, I agree that Etie speaks more formally in Japanese, but mostly in ways that just don't directly translate into modern English, so something getting lost in translation was inevitable.

In English, there's no equivalent to ending one's sentences with desu and masu. There's no longer a formal and informal "I" pronoun. There's no "sentence endings" in English grammar that quite compare to those in Japanese. Etc., etc.

That being said, the localization could have made other word and voice acting choices to make up for the ENG / JP differences, but I don't think they really did. Characters like Maribelle (from Awakening), and Clair (from Echoes), are identifiable noblewomen pretty quickly based on how they speak in localization.

It's hard to tell exactly what direction the Engage localization staff were going in with Etie without official commentary. Maybe she comes off as more casual on purpose, maybe not.

I hope that all made sense, even to those who don't know much about Japanese! Please let me know if you have any further questions!

-----------

Now, for the 2nd anon!

This anon is much more general, so there's nothing specific to respond to. I'll just lead into my full support analysis here.

In short, Etie really is as much of a workout and muscle building fanatic in the Japanese as she is in the English. She feels like an extreme final evolution of Effie's (from Fates) dedication to training. Where Effie being a workout/ muscle buff was more of a side result of her dedication to training to better serve Elise, and the localization played up the workout obsession part a bit; Etie's character leans hard into that angle straight from the original Japanese into English.

Aside from working out and building muscle, Etie's supports are also often centered around her tendency to rush to conclusions, then walk off before the other person has time to explain themself. The rest of the support chain is spent leading up to Etie realizing she made a mistake. With the misunderstanding cleared up, she happily becomes close friends with her conversation partner.

In my analysis of each conversation, I'll focus on discussing whether or not Etie herself and her personality come off as any different; but while we are on the topic, I'll briefly note anything else different about the convos as well.

Etie / Alear

Note: When I use they/them pronouns for Alear, it is to communicate that what I am discussing is true for both male and female Alear.

There's no big notable differences throughout Etie / Alear's C-A supports. Etie herself is the same in Japanese and English.

But as Etie is one of the playable characters under 18, there are several little tweaks to the Ring / S conversation that downplay romantic connotations.

Neither Etie nor Alear explicitly say they are in love in the Japanese by any means, but the use of words and phrases like 告白 (confession) and 離れずに (never be apart) still communicate that the Japanese conversation is more romantic. Still, the changes are very subtle. The main points of the convo are the same in Japanese vs. localization.

Here's my translations of the snippets slightly altered to be less romantic:

#1:

Localization #1: Alear: I’d really like for us to partner up. Japanese #1: [リュール] (Alear) …エーティエ。(...Etie.) 私のパートナーになってもらえないでしょうか…？▼ (I was wondering if you would become my partner…?)

#2:

Localization #2: Alear: Well…that’s not exactly it. Alear: I meant supporting each other no matter what. That’s why I’m giving you the Pact Ring. Japanese #2: [リュール] (Alear) あっ、ええっと、そちらではなく！▼ (Ah, um, that’s not it!) 私と特別な絆を結んでほしいんです。(I want you to make a special bond with me.) この『約束の指輪』を持つ、パートナーとして。▼ (And have this Pact Ring, as my partner.)

#3:

Localization #3: Alear: I’ve been wanting to bring it up for a while now, but I was afraid you’d say no. Japanese #3: [リュール] (Alear) 想告白しようと思ったのですが、(I’ve been thinking of confessing, but) 断られることが怖くて…▼ (I was afraid you would turn me down…)

#4:

Localization #4: Etie: From now on, we’ll always jog together. Etie: You and me are gonna run side by side for a million laps before we’re through. Japanese #4: [エーティエ] (Etie) これからは二人一緒に走りましょう。▼ (From now on, let’s run as the two of us together.) 人生という名の道を、片時も離れることなく。▼ (On this road we call life, we will not part for a single moment.)

#5:

Localization #5: Etie: Then let’s get moving. Last one back to the Somniel is a rotten egg! Japanese #5: [エーティエ] (Etie) さあ、参りましょう。神竜リュール様。(Then let’s go. Divine Dragon Alear.) あたくしたち、ずっと…離れずに、走り続けましょうね。▼ (Let’s continue running together forever… and never be apart.)

Etie / Clanne

No notable changes to Etie's personality here.

There's just a couple minor edits, such as this one in the C support...

Localization: Clanne slept with the pickles under his pillow.

Japanese: He chanted a wish that they would become delicious and exactly how she would like them.

There's a specific childish chant in Japanese, that people will sometimes sing to make something they are cooking come out more delicious. Equivalent to when people say "I made it with love." With that not translating over directly into English, the localization team switched up exactly how Clanne showed his dedication to making Etie a good batch of pickles.

Etie / Alfred

No notable changes to Etie's personality here either, nor to the convo itself. The localized conversation is a pretty direct translation of the Japanese.

A fun little trivia fact though: the Japanese specifically states that the weight Etie adds to her teacups... is lead. Actual lead. Yikes! I have no way of knowing if the localizers wrote that out on purpose or not, but it's understandable if they did.

Localization:  Etie: Well spotted. I did add some weight, in fact. Japanese:  [エーティエ] (Etie) 以前よりも鉛を大幅に足しましたの。▼ (I did add more lead then before.)

Etie / Céline

No notable changes to Etie's personality here either, nor the convo itself. The localized conversation is a pretty direct translation of the Japanese.

Etie and Céline really do just talk this much about tea.

This is the biggest change in wording I found, but it still conveys the same meaning. Etie is getting stronger, and had to have a new teacup made to keep getting stronger.

Localization:

Etie: I had it specially made. The old one wasn’t enough of a workout anymore.

Japanese:

[エーティエ] (Etie) 職人に頼んで作っていただいたんですの。(I requested an artisan to make it.) これでさらなる強化が期待できますわ。▼ (With it, I expect that I will get even stronger.)

Etie / Boucheron

So in the Japanese, Etie asks Boucheron if he's drinking any kind of supplements (like protein shakes or something like that) to get so muscular. She does not believe him when he answers no, leading her to assume he must be doing something more extreme, like steroids... In the localization, Etie instead accuses him of using something a little less controversial: magic (At least, I suppose magic is less controversial than steroids. I think there's room for debate there honestly, ha ha.)

#1

Localization #1: Etie: Ready to tell me what you’re mixing into your food to get those muscles. Boucheron: Hahaha, not this again. I’ve told you before that it’s got nothing to do with my diet. Japanese #1: [エーティエ] (Etie) あなたの筋肉についてですわ。(I’m talking about your muscles!) ブシュロンさんはどんな筋肉増強剤をご愛飲で？▼ (What kind of muscle supplement do you like to drink?) [ブシュロン] (Boucheron) あはは、またその話か。(Ah ha ha, this topic again?) そういったものは飲んでいないぞ。▼ (I don’t take anything like that.)

#2

Localization #2: Etie: So I assume that whatever you’re doing on the sly really works! Japanese #2: [エーティエ] (Etie) 何か素晴らしいものを飲んでいるに  違いありませんわ！▼ (So there must be something really amazing you are drinking!)

#3

Localization #3: Etie: Wait, are you using magic? Unbelievable! The lengths you’ll go just for some muscles! Japanese #3: [エーティエ] (Etie) まさか！　危険な薬物ですの！？ (No way! It’s a dangerous drug?!) だとしたら厳罰ですわよ！▼ (If so, that’s basically criminal!)

But as for Etie's personality, she's no different in the localization vs. the Japanese. This convo is another classic situation where she runs with an assumption her brain makes up entirely on its own, until clearing up the misunderstanding in the end and admitting she was wrong. And the entire convo is focused around body building, that is also very much like her.

Etie / Jade

This conversation was so directly translated in localization, that I have nothing to say about it!

Etie / Lapis

On the topic of Lapis, in the A support:

In the localization, Lapis says “taters,” then corrects herself to “potatoes.” In the Japanese, in this specific convo, Lapis does not start speaking in a remote dialect, then correct herself to hide her rural upbringing. She just speaks her line and does not correct herself on anything. However, Lapis does make attempts in other convos to hide where she is from - so I don’t see this as a change exactly, but the localization making efforts to reinforce established character traits, where English allows the wordplay.

Back to Etie herself, this conversation has no changes. Actually, it has a couple of examples that prove she really is this much of a devoted muscle-head in the Japanese as well!

From the C Support:

Localization: Etie: For me, bodybuilding is life. Japanese: [エーティエ] (Etie) あたくしにとって体作りは、(To me, bodybuilding is) 命と同じぐらい大切なものですわ…▼ (something of the same importance as life…”

From the A Support:

Localization: Etie: Dried potatoes? From a remote part of Brodia? Is that what I think it is? Etie: The high-calorie, low-fat starch that’s every musclehead’s dream?! Japanese: [エーティエ] (Etie) ブロディアの田舎の干し芋？(Dried potatoes from rural Brodia?) それってもしかして…▼ (Could it be…) 脂肪がつきにくく、腹もちがいいと 鍛錬通の間で噂の！？▼ (The rumored food that burns fat, and makes you feel full, spoken of by bodybuilders?!)

Etie / Yunaka

The localization plays up Yunaka's flavor text a bit. Here's an example from the C Support:

Localization: Etie: Hey, Yunaka. Mind doing me a favor? Yunaka: Whatcha need, pumpkin-seed? Japanese: [エーティエ] (Etie) ユナカさん。(Yunaka,) 少しよろしいですか？▼(May I have a moment?) [ユナカ] (Yunaka) なんですかな？▼ (What is it?)

This is not a change exactly, more of an addition; as Yunaka also had a unique greeting in the Japanese - "Yoropippi" instead of "Hiya papaya." To play up that trait of Yunaka's a bit, the localization chose to add more catchy sayings for her here and there. (I haven't read enough of her JP support convos yet to know if she says anything else like "Yoropippi" in JP.)

But as for Etie's personality, again, she was very directly translated in localization. She creates a misunderstanding that has to be cleared up so she and Yunaka can be friends by the end of the A support, and the first thing she's interested in about Yunaka is her muscles.

Etie / Goldmary

So there's a LOT that could be talked about with this support chain overall, more so than almost any other support chain in this game probably.

But staying focused on the topic of Etie's personality? There actually isn't much to say when you get right down to it.

She's the same as ever in the C Support. Her emotions get heated quickly, and she immediately defends herself as the person who should rightfully get to eat the potato/ root vegetable.

In the B Support, tensions are still building, and Etie and Goldmary personally attack each other even more. In Japanese, they fight over who's more attractive to men. In localization, they insult each other's priorities in this time of war. But the core theme is still the same: after getting off on a bad start, they now have an antagonistic relationship and fight over who's better than the other.

In the A Support, both Goldmary is the first to state that she wants to clear things up between them. Etie has an open mind to do so and put the past in the past, so the two can grow to become good friends. While the localization changed exactly what parts of their bodies Etie and Goldmary were... touching, the localized version of the conversation stays true to the overall point this time as well. The two don't have to despise each other for their differences and fight over who's better. Even total opposites can understand each other and come to be... friends. ...Or more. Up to interpretation I think.

So in short, there's no notable personality changes for Etie in this support chain either, I don't think.

Due to the localized and JP convos being so different, I also did a full translation of them. If you'd like to read them, they are linked below:

C Support - B Support - A Support

Etie / Fogado

No changes to discuss here either!

Instead, I have yet another support snippet proving that Etie is as much of a bodybuilder in the Japanese as she is in localization. A workout party is truly the best type of party to her:

Localization: Etie: Desserts are the opposite of a party. Fogado: Huh… I’ve never met anyone who hated dessert. Etie: Hate’s a strong word. I just love my muscles too much to load up on empty calories like that. Etie: What do you say to a workout party instead? Fogado: What kind of party is that? Etie: It’s where a bunch of people get together and do nothing but tone their muscles. Japanese: [エーティエ] (Etie) お菓子は…あたくしの敵ですわ。▼ (Sweets are… my enemy.) [フォガート] (Fogado) エーティエはお菓子が嫌い？▼(You hate sweets?) [エーティエ] (Etie) 嫌いではないですが、筋肉を愛する者にとって、(I don’t hate them, but for those who love muscle,) 余分な肉の増加は許せませんので。▼ (we cannot allow ourselves to gain excess fat.) それより、鍛錬の会なんて如何です？▼ (How about a workout party instead?) [フォガート] (Fogado) それって、何をするの？▼ (What do you do there?) [エーティエ] (Etie) みんなで集まって、(Get everyone together, and) ひたすら筋肉鍛錬をするのです。▼ (focus 100% on building muscle.)

Etie / Panette

And now for the last Etie support, according to how I listed them here!

This one is also very directly localized, so I have little to say. It's another example of Etie brashly rushing to a conclusion - in this case, that Panette is acting like a fake noblewoman - leading the conversation to be about the two clearing things up. In the end, Etie explains that she just wanted to know if Panette is also a commoner who rose to a higher social rank, and they sense they will be good friends from now on.

...And that's the end of Etie's supports!

I think the question as to whether or not Etie's personality is any different in localization is a good one. Many of us in the FE fandom know that Effie was played up to be a bit more of a bodybuilder/ gym girl in Fate's localization.

But almost any one of Etie's support chains quickly proves that her being obsessed with bodybuilding and muscles is no exaggeration in localization - it is all part of the more cartoon-y tone of Engage, even in the JP version.

And while she speaks more like a noble or "ojou" type in Japanese, making her English sound more casual, the otherwise direct localization of her support convos does not make her seem too different in localization. Overall, I'd rate her as faithfully translated into English from Japanese.

Thanks to all who read this far! I hope that was super informative for you, and if you have any further questions or would like to see a full support chain translated, just send me an ask!

[blubushie]

the one thing i don't understand is why the nazis fetishizers don't just find a movie or a band or a tv show to obsess over like normal people or make some ocs to fill that void. literally anything other than making thirst posts who people who were more than likely responsible for the suffering of your ancestors and would have killed your ass for not being a pure aryan german if they were still around today.

Iunno people can't really "pick" their interests, this goes double for mental disorders like autism where you can't pick your special interests/hyperfixations. I personally don't much care for the phrase "like normal people" cuz "normal" is extremely subjective and often incredibly ableist. "Why can't you be normal" can be said for anything, any behaviour or any "weird" interest. Autistic kid like trains a bit too much? "God why can't you just have a normal interest that's socially acceptable, like a band or something, and not talk about fucking trains all the time. Why do you have to be autistic, why can't you mask and act normal to meet my standards of what normal is."

My issue isn't with their interest. I know quite a bit about Third Reich-era Germany and about WW2 because it was also a hyperfixation of mine for a long time—see my previous posts for why, but it boils down to "those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it". I'm a history nerd, and WW2 has played a VERY large role in our recent history and the after effects still echo today. And those who don't know their history are doomed to repeat it.

The issue I take is with them romanticising these people. That's where "interest" crosses into "idolisation", which is when you start having problems and start making excuses for the things they've done. That's what breeds white supremacists and makes these people seek out neo-Nazis, and that's what the actual problem is here. If Reichblr was just people geeking out over history and exchanging historical theories or discussing events or something, I wouldn't have an issue with it. What I have an issue with is people woobifying war criminals into kawaii-desu anime boys.

[doyoulikethis-vocaloid-song]

🎼 FEATURED SONGS (1-39)

Wonderful Nippon! by kagomeP

Fool by john

I Don't Care Who, Somebody Go Out With Me! by TakyuP

START by LeftyMonster-P

Aura by Ghost and Pals

Fear Garden by Chaa

Big Toy Box by Hikaruringo

Milk Crown on Sonechka by YUZY

Tiny Me by masarada

Dancing☆Samurai by Kanimiso-P

I'm Glad You're Evil Too by Pinnochio-P

Why I Hate You by Naminé

Fools are Attracted to Anomaly by Utsu-P

Datte Boku wa AI by Yukitsuki

Love Love Nightmare by kiiichi

World is Mine by ryo

ggrks- Go Google It- by AhmingP

Go to Daitokai by Tsukiri

今夜もパンタレイ by Yuuki Haruno

Kimi to Mita Sora no Uta by TAKU1175 & Ryota Kikuchi

A Crow's Trial by Vane

Blessed Messiah and the Tower of AI by teamOS

Matryoshka by Hachi

Rainy Bunny by Suyi (人形兎) Yu Li (雨狸) and OQQ

Manimani by r-906

Earphones and a Chorus of Cicadas by Orangestar

Higurashi Moratorium by TOTAL OBJECTION

Remote Control by WONDERFUL★OPPORTUNITY

Doping Dance by STEAKA

hitomania by Sasuke Haraguchi

Senbonzakura by Kurousa-P

名の無い星が空に堕ちたら by Subete Anata no Sei Desu

URUSaaA愛 of YM

I Don't Wanna Know by SEDO Sounder

Stop Nagging Me! by Owata-P

arson by SUB MARINE

Echo by Crusher-P

Ringo Uri no Utakata Shoujo by yukkedoluce

Dreamless Dream by Harumaki Gohan

And a Youtube Playlist so you can listen to them all! I'll continue to update this as the polls finish up! 💚

[the-art-of-sanshoku]

Misc thoughts on Agito eps 9-10 (spoilers for eps obv)

So is Agito a title kind of like how Kuuga means "warrior" rather than being a specific entity. It's an inoue show though so the chances of this line being explained is definitely not guaranteed lol

So when they made the jokes about Shouichi not seasoning the food I thought there was some biological thing behind it but I guess he just doesn't like doing it since he seems to enjoy other food like this

I like how the amnesia aspect is used in Agito, it feels very well integrated into the show and doesn't feel like just a plot device. These episodes had a big focus on what Shouichi wants to do and be in the future and I wonder what direction the show will end up leaning toward.

Like i can see them going the route of supporting Shouichi's views of taking life day by day, enjoying the present and all the little joys of life like watching your plants grow and not needing to life your life for the sake of some future you want. Also how we need not be defined by our past actions. But it's kind of interesting to see his views on memories in contrast to like Den O which is all about how memories are time and its your relationships with others etc, etc. so I could also see the show working towards trying to teach Shouichi that.

I try to see how it goes by looking at the secondary characters but the cops and ryo dont really pull on these thematic threads that ive noticed so far. Mana echoes shouichi sometimes in that there are things she doesn't want to actively remember, but her memories are also the only ties to her father and are clearly important to her.

I find Shouichi answering the phone with just "Hi ive got the phone (denwa o karimashita)" rather than something a lot more common like "Hai Shouichi desu" or something kind of interesting. Clearly these episodes have alluded it's not his "real" name and im assuming it isnt, but having shouichi choose not to identify as it here says something about shouichi (I think hes introduced himself as such earlier in the series but i still think this choice here is intentional and maybe shows some of shouichi's anxieties) his action here and his general personality again kind of make the amnesia feel more integral than just a plot device and is again appreciated.

strikes me as a line that will be more literal in 30 episodes

Is it just me or is the show giving Hojo a lot of unique little musical stings. There's this one, the hojo G3 fight had a different insert song than usual, and there was one other hojo scene i think that i was like "hey haven't heard this one before", just a random thing i noticed

[takashimakato]

Welcome to the Family

(Photo Provided by @ceofjohnlennon on twt)

After years of marriage, Yoko and John found themselves standing at the doorstep of her parents' home, a significant moment marking John's long-awaited introduction to his in-laws. With a firm grasp of Japanese now under his belt, he was poised and eager for this encounter.

As the door creaked open, John greeted Isoko Ono in their native tongue, "Konnichiwa, Ono-san. Ogenki desu ka?" (Hello, Mrs. Ono. How are you both?)

Isoko smiled, her eyes lingering on John for a moment before she stepped aside, saying, "Kutsu wo nugutte kudasai. (Please take off your shoes.)"

John complied, neatly placing his shoes beside Yoko's and their son's, his hand finding Yoko's for support as they ventured further into the house.

In the midst of the household's lively ambiance, they approached Eisuke Ono, seated calmly with a cup of tea. "Konnichiwa, Ono-san," John greeted, extending his hand.

Eisuke, surprised by John's fluency, shook his hand with a warm smile, "Konnichiwa. Nihongo jouzu desu ne." (Hello. Your Japanese is very good, isn't it?)

As John and Yoko settled into the living room, the sound of children playing filled the air. Yoko's mother, Isoko, glanced at John, her eyes softening with approval. "You've learned Japanese quite well, John-san," she remarked, her tone warm with appreciation.

John nodded gratefully, his nerves slowly dissipating in the comforting embrace of their familial setting. "Arigatou gozaimasu, Ono-san. I've been practicing diligently," he replied, his voice infused with sincerity.

Meanwhile, Sean, their son, dashed off to join the other children, his laughter blending harmoniously with their playful banter. Yoko squeezed John's hand affectionately, a silent acknowledgment of his efforts to integrate into her family's culture.

Across the room, Eisuke Ono observed the scene with a proud smile, his eyes twinkling with paternal affection. "Yoko has chosen well," he mused aloud, raising his cup of tea in a silent toast to their union.

As the afternoon unfolded, conversations flowed effortlessly, bridging the gap between languages and generations. John found himself immersed in tales of family traditions and cherished memories, each anecdote drawing him closer to the heart of Yoko's heritage.

By the time they bid farewell, John felt a newfound sense of belonging, his bond with Yoko's family strengthened by their shared moments of laughter and warmth. And as they stepped out into the evening, hand in hand, John knew that he had not only gained a deeper understanding of Yoko's roots but had also found a second home within her family's embrace.

As they stepped out into the evening, the golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky with a sense of serenity. John glanced at Yoko, a soft smile playing on his lips, his heart brimming with gratitude for the day's experiences.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, they walked hand in hand, the echoes of laughter and familial bonds lingering in their hearts. With each step, John felt a sense of belonging that transcended language barriers and cultural differences.

And as they disappeared into the embrace of the twilight, John knew that his journey to meet Yoko's parents had not only strengthened their bond but had also opened the door to a future filled with love, understanding, and the richness of their shared heritage.

[aulianm]

Mission BlodOfRevold

Kota yang Terbelenggu Dornesk bukan sekadar kota. Ia adalah labirin baja dan neon yang dijaga ketat oleh pasukan cybernetic Vermillon. Setiap sudut dipenuhi kamera pengawas, drone pemantau, dan algoritma prediktif yang mampu membaca niat seseorang sebelum mereka bertindak. Namun, di bawah permukaan kota, di antara lorong-lorong kumuh dan jalur bawah tanah yang terlupakan, sebuah api kecil menyala. Ecliptica—sebuah perlawanan rahasia—bangkit melawan dominasi Vermillon. Mereka bukan hanya sekumpulan pemberontak, melainkan harapan terakhir rakyat Dornesk.

binar seorang rakyat biasa yang dituntut untuk bergabung di bawah perlawanan rahasia yang disebut ecliptica. didalam sana terbagi menjadi beberapa bagian kelompok tetapi dia memilih untuk masuk ke jajaran echoes, yaitu pemimpin yang menyuarakan pemberontakan untuk melawan vermilion berharap mereka bisa musnah dengan tangan kecil yang menyuarakan suara kesakitan rakyat dornesk. dan disisi lain terdengar desas desus bahwa salah satu anggota ada yang menjual informasi ke pihak lawan dan salah satu dari kami adalah pengkhianat....

Dalam konteks fraksi Echoes, yang dikenal sebagai pemimpin pemberontakan, tugas utama mereka biasanya mencakup:

Tugas Fraksi Echoes

1. Menyuarakan Perlawanan – Menginspirasi dan menggerakkan massa untuk melawan tirani atau sistem yang mereka lawan.

2. Menyebarkan Propaganda – Menggunakan komunikasi untuk menyebarkan pesan pemberontakan dan mendapatkan dukungan.

3. Merekrut Anggota Baru – Mencari individu yang bersedia bergabung dalam perjuangan mereka.

4. Menyusun Strategi dan Taktik – Mengatur serangan, sabotase, atau tindakan lain yang melemahkan musuh.

5. Mengamankan Sumber Daya – Mengumpulkan senjata, perlengkapan, dan informasi penting untuk perjuangan mereka.

6. Melindungi Identitas dan Keamanan Anggota – Mencegah infiltrasi dan menjaga kerahasiaan operasi mereka.

Cara Membasmi Pengkhianat di Dalam Fraksi

1. Investigasi dan Intelijen – Menggunakan mata-mata atau teknologi untuk mengawasi anggota yang mencurigakan.

2. Interogasi dan Uji Loyalitas – Menguji kesetiaan anggota dengan misi berisiko atau pertanyaan jebakan.

3. Eksekusi atau Pengasingan – Jika ditemukan pengkhianatan, hukuman bisa berupa eksekusi langsung atau pengusiran.

4. Penyamaran dan Perang Psikologis – Menyebarkan informasi palsu untuk menjebak pengkhianat.

5. Peningkatan Keamanan Internal – Mengubah sistem komunikasi, kode rahasia, dan pertemuan rahasia untuk mencegah kebocoran informasi.

[fightingthetides]

What if they kissed [8059, i dunno if you reblogged or not buuuuuuut I wanna see Yama reaction if okay]

((No, I didn't reblog the meme, but I know the one you are referencing. I'll allow it because you want it)) || @thehandworld

Note: I'm not familiar with the way you'll be writing this verse of Gokudera, so this really is more like a mini fanfic excerpt. Just treat it as Neo playing around.

-

“Hahi? Oh…OH…is that how it is? Hm…” Haru tapped her chin while deep in thought, “Haru isn’t really sure what to tell you. Haru would think that you should trust in your instinct, because that’s probably what your heart believes.” “So just trust in my instinct?” She tilts her head to the side, “Haru would think so? Reborn-chan said that Yamamoto has good instincts, so surely, they won’t lead you astray?”

Those words kept echoing in Yamamoto’s head for some time. He was deep in thought when Haru found him sitting alone on a park bench. There was a baseball in hand, but he wasn’t doing anything with it, which made it peculiar enough that Haru come over to talk to him out of concern.

Yamamoto holding a ball in hand and not throwing it? That’s an emergency-desu!- or whatever it was that she was probably thinking. She’s a silly one, sometimes, and that’s a part of her charm.

He told her about what was on his mind without any filter, and Haru accepted things pretty easily. She didn’t judge him or try to convince him that he was wrong or that he was merely ‘confused’.

If he thought that he may have some feelings for Gokudera, then it was probably true, but she didn’t have any ideas for him on how to really determine for sure if what he felt for Gokudera was… love. Yamamoto thought that maybe Haru would have ideas for him, given the fact that she had dealt with a one-sided love for years, but he supposes their situation is a bit different.

He did ask her about how she felt when she realized she loved Tsuna, and what it was like. In hindsight it was a bit insensitive to ask, but she was kind and let it pass as a guy who was really lost and needing all the help he could get.

She did explain some of her experiences, which was a nice reference point. So, Gokudera was helping with homework as he had a bit of time to help them. Tsuna went to get some more drinks and it was just the two guardians left in the room.

Gokudera said something about how he’d noticed that Yamamoto kept peeking at him. Though he did try to be discreet about it, Gokudera was probably sensitive to that kind of thing. He always was the wary one of the bunch.

Just goes to show how much he cared and how protective he was of everyone.

“Reborn-chan said that Yamamoto has good instincts, so surely, they won’t lead you astray?”

Instead of answering Gokudera’s question, Yamamoto leaned in to press his lips against Gokudera’s. The kiss lasted maybe a second or two, but at the sound of footsteps approaching, Yamamoto pulled away with a smile.

He got his answer, but Gokudera was probably left with many questions.

“Welcome back, Tsuna. Whatcha got there?”

“Ah! Mom made some onigiri for us to snack on. Here, have some!”

[valerings]

𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎.

݁ᛪ༙ summary: after millenia of being sealed away in an underground cave with copious amounts of gold and jewels known as the 'Abyss', an unexpected visit from a certain dragon hunter didn't seem all too bad.

݁ᛪ༙ warnings: nsfw content, unprotected sex, monster fucking, marking (biting, claw marks, etc), creampie, attempted double penetraion (his tail), mild choking (reader being choked), fingering, riding, begging, teasing, praise, degradation, sylus being possessive, ooc sylus, dragon hunter! reader, fem!reader (Imk if i missed anything!)

݁ᛪ༙ authors note: first time writing for sylus but the brain rot from his new myth card is getting to me.. so apologies if he seems ooc :( reader doesn't have much dialogue because i find it a little awkward so apologies for that too. dividers and warning credits go to @cafekitsune !!

tags 🏷️ ~ @lunacielooo @chaieanne @stxrrielle @theimmortalbuns @kamisatomay018 @bbieainee @reika-desu @loraleiii @cecesilver @brekkers-whore @pirana10 @liz9898 @monster-effer @lunaizhere @pastelpeachess @sohavaa @itsizumiiii @krikalovesstay @jayhyunglover @celestialforce

"Before you tried to kill me," his deep voice rings in your ear, pulling you out of your pleasure induced state. his bare chest pressed against your back, the red gem carving its mark onto your skin. his large hand holding your head up by your jaw, long and dragon-like claws gently scratching the sides of your face. "Did you consider that it'd end like this?" he taunts, his other large and clawed hand firmly gripping your hip, his grip almost bruising your skin as he kept you pinned down against the gold riddled ground.

truthfully, this hadn't been what you imagined when you took up that bounty.. an impossibly huge reward would be given to whoever was brave and or stupid enough to bring back the head of the wicked creature that had been sealed away. maybe it was your pride that led you to accepting that bounty, or your greed that whispered in your mind once your eyes laid upon the prize money. though, you wouldn't say you were too upset about being split open and ravaged by this supposed 'wicked' creature. if your mind wasn't overwhelmed with pleasure, you'd be humiliated by the loud and wet sounds that echoed through the cavern whenever he pumped his fingers into your sopping hole.

"You're so wet.. if it weren't for your weapon, i would've thought you came here for another kind of 'reward'." he teases, almost like he's mocking just how wet you were while his lithe fingers were knuckles deep into your pussy. your cheek pressed against the cold gold coins on the ground, his long scorpion like tail teasingly caressing your calves before slowly inching up to your thighs, pulling away to run down your legs once more when the sharp tip barely grazes your heat. even with your back turned to him, you could feel the smug smirk on his face as he laps up soft gaps and low moans that gradually slipped out your lips.

"Is this what you really wanted, miss hunter? What a dirty girl.. was the bounty just an excuse for you to venture down here?" a choked out moan clawed its way out your throat as his clawed fingers curled upwards against the soft spongy spot inside of you, his reaction more amused than anything. so that's where you liked it..

"Don't think i'll let you go that easily, sweetie. After your little attempt at trying to kill me, i think a punishment is warranted, no?" he whispered lowly into your ear, his lips moving further down before hovering above the side of your neck. he can practically hear your blood pumping, fear and arousal coursing your veins as his sharp teeth neared your skin. the tightness in his pants worsens as you let out a surprised gasp that slowly turned into a soft whimper when he sunk his teeth into your skin, creating the first of many marks to come.

"Don't forget. If i apply anymore pressure at this very spot.. Your heart will never beat again." he murmured into your ear, his hand moving down your jaw to hold your neck while his thumb applied gentle pressure to the bite mark he made on your neck. his fingers uncharacteristically gentle as they apply small amounts of pressure to your throat, enough to make you feel slightly lightheaded and dazed. the said mark forming an intricate design, black markings taking place on your skin. he can feel your slick drenching his fingers, letting out an amused huff as you whined when he slipped his fingers out of your heat.

he brings his hand up to your mouth, your slick coating his long fingers as he placed the pads of his middle and ring finger on your bottom lip. "Suck." he commanded, satisfied with your response when you open your mouth, tasting yourself on his fingers as you licked them clean. "Good girl." he praised, teasingly nibbling on shell of your ear. he tensed a little when he felt the subtle rub of your ass against his bulge, his long and sharp tail wrapping around your thigh in a warning to hold still.

"Such a greedy little thing.." he almost scoffs, in a particular merciless mood today. "If you want it so badly, beg for it. Beg like the good slut you are." he ordered, his tail uncurling itself from your thigh before he shifted off of you, his tall frame saunters back to where he was originally sat when you entered the cavern. he looks down at you expectantly, his dragon wings tucked behind his back while his tail curled slightly. it pissed you off how he acted like you were the desperate one in this situation when you could clearly see the bulge in his pants.

you swallowed your pride, shifting to your knees before inching closer to where he was sat before looking up at him with an expression akin to a kicked puppy to gain some sympathy points from the man. "Please..? I apologise for intruding on your space, just please.. i need it." you don't miss the way his smirk widened as you begged, seemingly satisfied as he patted his lap as an invitation for you. you rose to your feet, gasping in surprise when his tail yanked you down onto his lap, his bulge right by the entrance of your wet pussy.

"Go on, since you 'need it' so badly. Prove it, sweetie." he taunted, cocking his head to the side as he watched you fumble with the buckle to his belt. he keeps his eyes on your face as you unzip his pants, sucking in a little hiss as you pulled his boxers down, his thick cock slapping his stomach. as expected of a dragon, he was huge.. even just looking at his cock made you nervous.

"Don't tell me you're getting nervous now, where was all that sass when you first came down here?" he scoffed, leaning back a little as he observed your nervous expression. were all humans as cute as you?

"Screw you.." you murmured in a fit of embarrassment and frustration at his taunts, which didn't go unnoticed by him at all.

his eyes darkened at your words, though still maintaining his smirk. "Oh? Well then.." before you could even react, his large hands gripped your hips before hoisting you up, positioning your body right above his hard cock before letting go of your hips. a gasp escaped your lips when his tail wrapped around your waist to push you down on his cock, letting out a sharp moan as you felt his cock stretching your hole. the tip of his cock nudged against your sweet spot, your eyes screwed shut as you tried to adjust to the sheer size of his cock.

"Come now, is this all you can handle? You said you 'needed it', no?" he snickered, a hand snaking up to your hip, a false comforting touch as his sharp claws dragged against skin, leaving red marks in their wake. your slick started to pool and drip down his cock, coating your inner thighs. despite how unbothered he seemed, you could feel the subtle twitch of his cock inside of you whenever you shifted on his cock. your hands came up to grip his shoulders, your back arched as you lifted your hips up before bringing them back down on his cock, a few experimental bounces. a thin coat of sweat covered your body from the searing heat of his thick cock inside of you.

"Don't tell me this is all you've got, miss hunter.." his teasing voice brought you out of your concentration, the way he merely smirked as you glared at him pissed you off. his tail wrapped a little tighter around your waist, seemingly tired of being patient. his tail gripping your waist pushed you down on his lap, eliciting a cry from you as his cock plunged impossibly deeper into your cunt. before you could process it, his tail brought your hips up into the air before slamming you back down on his cock, again and again until it formed a steady rhythm.

"There we go, good girl.. That's it." he praised, red eyes raking over your body as sharp moans escaped your lips whenever his cock nudged against your sweet spot continuously due to the sheer size of his cock. he didn't mind the feel of your nails digging into his broad shoulders, only letting out a low growl when he felt your walls clench around him. his tail guided your movements, bouncing your body up and down on his cock. a whimper escaped your mouth as you felt the sharp tip of his tail graze your cunt, your body twitched as he teasingly rubbed your clit with the tip of his tail.

"You think it'll fit, sweetie?" a low chuckle came from him as you immediately shook your head, if his cock was enough to get you panting and struggling to take him all the way, there was no way his tail would fit inside your tight cunt. "Shame, humans are always so fragile.." he hummed, sucking in a hiss as he felt your walls tighten around his length once more. his own hips bucked up into your heat, matching the way your body bounced on his cock due to his tail guiding your body.

he could feel the way your body twitched and tensed, your pupils wide while your mouth hung open, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips. he doesn't miss the way your body gradually leaned against his, your chest heaving against his while your nails dug into his shoulders. "close— i'm close.. please, please let me cum.." you moaned, feeling your muscles tighten as his cock continued hitting that sweet spot inside you while his tail rubbed sharp circles onto your clit.

"Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Fuck..." he cursed under his breath, harshly thrusting up into your tight cunt as he felt your walls clench around him. your walls spasm around his cock, your moans becoming more frequent as the tight knot in your belly came undone, 'thank you's spilling from your lips as his tail helps guide your high. his cock twitched inside of your walls before shooting his cum inside your cunt, his hot cum spilling out of your abused hole.

his tail uncurled around your waist, using his hands to help you off his cock instead. his gaze drifts down to your hole, sticky and slick with both of your releases. if it was up to him, no jewel could compare to the eye candy you gave him, though as much as he loved the sight of his cum seeping out of your hole, he couldn't let it go to waste now could he?

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when you felt something snake up your thigh before plunging back into your cunt, something much longer and sharp than his cock. "There we go.. See? It does fit." he snickered into your ear, using his tail to plug his cum inside of your tight hole.

[ao3feed-undertale1]

One shots Echo en 10 minutos (Speedfics) (TenVerse)

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51094150 by Jackson1234 como dice el titulo, simplemente yo escribiendo en 10 minutos oneshots cracks en situaciones estúpidas, ridículas fuera de personajes. solo es para mi diversión. Words: 227, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Español Fandoms: High Guardian Spice (Cartoon), Undertale (Video Game), New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Adventure Time (Cartoon 2010), Bluey (Cartoon 2018), Johnny Test (Cartoon), Infinity Train (Cartoon), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, The Owl House (Cartoon), Total Drama (Cartoon), My Little Pony Generation 4: Friendship Is Magic (Cartoon 2010), QSMP | Quackity SMP, South Park, Multi-Fandom, The Amazing Digital Circus (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series), OMORI (Video Game), Five Nights at Freddy's, Gravity Falls, Inside Out (2015), 古見さんはコミュ症です。 | Komi-san wa Komyushou Desu | Miss Komi Can't Communicate (Anime), Rick and Morty Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F Characters: Sans (Undertale), Freddy Fazbear, Luz Noceda, Amity Blight, blast ketchup, Sunny (OMORI), Sage (High Guardian Spice), Rosemary (High Guardian Spice), Bluey Heeler, Jake the Dog, Monokuma (Dangan Ronpa), Pinkie Pie (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic), Ripper (Total Drama), Midoriya Izuku, Riley Andersen, Komi Shouko, Uraraka Ochako, Frisk (Undertale), Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty) Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda Additional Tags: crackfic, Don't Take This Seriously Please, SpeedFic, One Shot, TenVerse, Other Additional Tags to Be AddedNavigation and Actions, Humor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fetish, many are boring meaningless, Character Death, Female Frisk (Undertale) read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51094150

[yridenergyridenergy]

I just watched Shinya's takoyaki video and what a fucking disaster that was hahah.

No difference between 1/3 and 1...

There might be a reason for that instruction hahah. 

ERK. How about using an actual whip or even a fork rather than a spoon to mix hah?

Just when I thought that he would be reasonable and get the condiments to go on top of his really bare takoyaki for presentation and taste, he goes and does... this?!

By the time he went to the grocery or convenience store, meticulously cut those pieces to form “Cheburashka”’s face and properly stuck them together, his takoyaki were definitely cold. 

What the hell is up with Shinya hahah. 

[wftc141]

Commission art by @ignitioncrisis and @ashirogifan

Name: Britney Eckhart Code-name: Echo Call-sign: Shadow-1-3 Sex: Female Nationality: Caucasian American Date-of-Birth: May 28, 1980  Height: 5’ 7” Weight: 135 lbs Bio: Britney Ashley ‘Echo’ Eckhart, Born in February 4, 1983, she is a former United States Marine Force Recon. She is an expert in hand-to-hand combat and a demolition expert. She is also a great asset to the CIA as she and her unit has done successful Black Ops missions for them where they recruited her and a few of her teammates to the Paramilitary Operation unit of the CIA.

[6okuto-moved]

LIAR!

gn!reader | established relationship, reader teasing hajime, just some fluff in bed :-)

iwaizumi wishes the effect you had on him wasn’t so maddeningly obvious.

it would have been one thing if only he knew, or if everyone but you knew—he could deal with the knowing looks and playful nudges from his friends every time he mentioned your name in passing. but unfortunately for him, you were just as aware as the rest of the world that iwaizumi hajime had a soft spot for you and only you.

this was true from the moment you met and he stuttered while introducing himself, to the first date where he let the door slam his fingers at the sound of your laugh, to right now as he forced himself not to look at your pleading face. he knew—the both of you knew if he did, there was only one possible outcome.

“hajime.” your voice calls from the other side of the bed.

hajime tenses slightly before replying with as level a voice as he can muster, “babe.”

“just once? please?”

he lets out a breath. “this won’t work on me.”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” liar.

“liar,” you echo his thought, amusement clear in your voice.

hajime almost laughs.

the mattress dips behind him, and the blanket is loud in your otherwise quiet bedroom as you shift closer. “are you sure?”

this time you’re only met with silence.

your boyfriend was a terrible liar around you, and no response was the easy way out.

“come on, haji,” you drawl, moving even closer. hajime can feel the warmth of your breath against his neck, and watches as your hands come to hold him from behind. they smooth the folds of his shirt and one runs up and down his side, pulling him even closer into your chest. his breath hitches when you squeeze his waist.

it’s when you press your lips to the nape of his neck and plant a soft kiss that he involuntarily groans, smushing his face into the pillow.

“pretty please?” you teasingly smile, and he can feel it—imagine it and the look in your eyes as if you were facing him instead. “i promise i won’t ask again.”

“now who’s the liar?” he scoffs and finally turns to look at you.

you snicker and press your lips together, fighting back a smile. getting him to turn around was 3/4 of the battle. “i don’t know what you’re talking about?”

"yes you do—babe, your hands are cold—" he laughs despite himself when you sneak your hands under his shirt. "god, okay, okay, okay."

your hands freeze where they are, and there’s an accomplished gleam in your eyes that he’s come to know well. “yeah, yeah, just this one time. now get your hands off and stop looking at me like that already—”

“‘m not looking at you any differently—”

“yes you are.”

“i’m looking at you with the same amount of innocence as always.”

“shush.” he huffs before pulling your head under his chin. he can feel your laughter against his skin, and when your hands come back to wrap around him again—over his shirt—he melts into your touch. 

“you’re so annoying,” hajime tells you, not an ounce of annoyance in his voice, but with an almost embarrassing amount of softness.

“i won’t ask again.”

“mhm.”

“promise.”

he squeezes your hip. “liar.” you might as well have put two crossed fingers in front of his face. but you kiss his collarbone, and he can't be bothered to complain again when you reply, “i know.”

! gonna b so fr w u guys i never had a question in mind for what u asked. i did try coming up w smth but i see hajime saying yes to doing basically anything so. think whatever ud like my friends 🫶

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[trigunbookclub]

i'm a little late to join the party, so i'm doing my best to catch up! but i was taking a look at the schedule, and i see that it's sepearated into volumes. would you happen to know the schedule by chapters?

Hello! Not too late at all--anyone's welcome to join at any time! I had to dig a bit, but they have the chapters listed on Wikipedia! I'll copy and paste here in case it helps someone navigate it easier, but I'm throwing it under a cut because it'll be long. I also recommend checking out @trigun-manga-overhaul for the most accurate translations, and it's all separated by volume there :D (I've been reading their browser version since it's easiest for me to take screenshots) Okay, chapter masterlist:

Trigun 1

00.High Noon

01.The $$60 Billion Double Dollar Man

02.Looney Tunes

03.Hard Puncher

04.Popo

05.Assault

06.Die Hards

07.Rem

08.Duelist

09.Then, Between The Wasteland and Sky

10.Little Arcadia

11.Son

12.River of Life

Trigun 2

13.Blood and Thunder

14.Diablo

15.Fragile

16.Scars

17.Slaughter Cafe

18.Gathering of the Devils

19.Eye of Invisibility

20.Fifth Moon

Extra: Day In Day Out

Extra: Trigun Pilot

Trimax 1

01. "Hero Reborn"

02. "Lina" (リィナ, Rina)

03. "Bravo, Girls!" (ガールズ・ブラボー！, Gāruzu Burabō)

04. "Hero Returns"

05. "Dancing Revolver"

06. "Sin" (罪, Tsumi)

Trimax 2

07. "Return of the Blue Wing of Death" (死を運ぶ 蒼き風 再び, Shi o Hakobu Aokikaze Futatabi)

08. "Resume our Business"

09. "Samurai Showdown" (サムライショウダウン, Samurai Shoudaun)

10. "Wolfwood" (ウルフウッド, Urufuddo)

11. "Desperado"

12. "Home Sweet Home" (ホーム・スィート・ホーム, Hōmu Su~īto Hōmu)

13. "Darkness" (暗闇, Kurayami)

Trimax 3

14. "Reservoir Dogs" (レザボア・ドッグス, Rezaboa Doggusu)

15. "Cement" (セメント, Semento)

16. "No Escape"

17. "Emilio the Player" (エミリオ・ザ・プレイヤー, Emiro za Pureiyā)

18. "Long Goodbye"

19. "Families" (ファミリーズ)

20. "His Life as a..."

Trimax 4

21. "Countdown"

22. "Bluesy Killer Horn" (ブルージィ キラー ホーン, Burūji~i Kirā Hōn)

23. "Bottom of the Dark"

24. "Den of Thieves" (魔窟, Makutsu)

25. "Crying Wild Bullet" (クライング ウイルド ブリッド, Kuraingu Uirudo Buriddo)

26. "Those Who Stood Idly By" (かたわらに たたずむ ものたち, Katawarani Tatazumu Monotachi)

27. "Doomed Sinner" (絶望の罪人, Zetsubou no Zainin)

Trimax 5

28. "The City And Then The Banquet of Dogs" (街 そして犬共の宴, Machi Soshite Inudomo no Utage)

29. "Breakout" (ブレイクアウト, Bureikuauto)

30. "Loss" (喪失, Sōshitsu)

31. "Villain" (凶人, Kyoujin)

32. "Death Deal" (デス ディール, Desu Dīru)

33. "Let Us Walk the Path to Redemption" (せめて歩ませよ我が購いの道を, Semete Ayumaseyo Waga Aganai no Michi o)

Trimax 6

34. "The Gunslinger" (ザ·ガンスリンガー, Za Gansuringā)

35. "double team"

36. "Cross X Assassins" (クロスXアサシンズ, Kurosu X Asashinzu)

37. "Death Omen" (死兆, Shichō)

38. "Colorless Expression" (色無き相貌, Ironaki Sōbō)

39. "Seeds Voyaging to the Stars, A World Inside a Pod" (星を往く種子 莢の中の世界, Hoshi o Yuku Shushi Saya no Naka no Sekai)

Trimax 7

40. "happy days."

41. "Separate Ways" (セパレイトウェイズ, Separeito Uizu)

42. "The King of Loneliness" (孤独の王, Kodoku no Ō)

43. "Good For Nothing and the Blues" (ろくでなしとブルース, Rokudenashi to Burūsu)

44. "When They Arrived, It Was Already the Beginning of the End" (辿り着けばそこはすでに終わりの始まり, Tadoritsukeba Sokowa Sudeni Owari no Hajimari)

45. "Conflict" (コンフリクト, Konfurikuto)

Trimax 8

46. "Invasion" (侵攻, Shinkou)

47. Silent Ruin

48. "Counter-Attack!! (カウンターアタック！！, Kauntā Atakku)

49. "Escape (脱出, Dasshutsu)

50. "Separate Paths (それぞれの道, Sorezore no Michi)

51. Wolfwood Spin Off - Freed Bird ([外伝] FREED BIRD, [Gaiden] Freed Bird)

Trimax 9

52. Home

53. Gale

54. LR

55. Battle to the Death

56. Prostrate Demon

57. Fortitude

Trimax 10

58. Reckless Conduct

59. Sworn Friend

60. Sudden Change

61. Death Omen

62. Final Battle

63. Homecoming

64. Wolfwood

65. Final Farewell

Trimax 11

66. Zero Hour

67. Slap Sticks Days

68. Thunderstruck

69. Return of the Wicked

70. Get Ready, Get Set

71. Someone to Defend

Trimax 12

72. The Journey Ends - But Heavy Breathing Still Echoes

73. Corrosive Thunder

74. The Interceptor

75. The Gunslinger

76. + - 0

77. resonance

78. Run Livio Run

79. Lantern

80. Their Own World

Trimax 13

81. False Doppleganger

82. Double Duel

83. Demon Fire

84. Black

85. Battle of the Mystics

86. Tag in a Person

87. catch-as-catch-can

88. Apex Wings (尖翼)

89. VS

Trimax 14

90. When Conflict Comes to An End (相克果つる刻, Sōkoku hatsuru toki)

91. overkill

92. Side by Side (サイド・バイ・サイド)

93. Never give up! Never surrender!

94. Ticket to the Future (未来への切符, Mirai e no kippu)

95. Mind Games

96. Double Wings (双翼, Sōyoku)

97. Never Ending Song

[vashtijoy]

So, if I may be so bold to ask, what are "change of heart" and "psychotic breakdown" called in the Japanese version of the text? Also, what about Medjed's "catchphrase"?

what's a change of heart?

What we know as a "change of heart" is called 改心 kaishin in the original. It audibly echoes 怪盗 kaitou, the original name for The Squad, meaning "phantom thief" or "gentleman thief" - Arsene Lupin is a phantom thief, for instance, and Leblanc's original novel is called 怪盗紳士ルパン kaitou shinshi rupan (Gentleman Phantom Thief Lupin) in Japanese.

so what does kaishin mean?

Jisho has it as “conversion; reform; correcting someone���s conduct”. But ejje.weblio has it purely as “reform”: if you kaishin suru (do kaishin), you are penitent; you’ve mended your ways, turned over a new leaf. A kaishin shita hito (someone who did kaishin) is a reformed character, a changed man. All the sample sentences (of which there are many) talk about reform and repentance.

Most specifically: kaishin appears to be something you do to yourself. Someone else can’t kaishin you; they can only make you kaishin. You can kaishin saseru somebody, with the causative: “make them reform themself”.

As in many regards, the original Japanese is more concise and less colourful than the English localisation. That’s not necessarily bad! - I’m not equipped to interpret how colourful Japanese native speakers find the text. We certainly have expectations here that video game dialogue will be flashy; Persona 5 specifically is an extremely flashy game that deserves a flashy translation. ( @nardaviel suggests “Im so fucking glad its called a change of heart in english, reform is so boring”, to which I can only agree, lol.)

To highlight one thing: the phrase “change of heart” often appears in dialogue (e.g. Joker uses it to Yoshida), and it is not necessarily as suspicious as it appears. It’s not necessarily a deliberate hint that he’s a Phantom Thief (though it certainly could be, as kaishin becomes a meme, a Big Thing, right along with the Phantom Thieves). But it’s not a phrase; it’s a word. It has deniability. Something I’m noticing is that subtlety is often stripped from the localisation, which is a bit of a shame.

[more detail and examples below the cut than anyone could possibly want]

how did we end up with “change of heart”?

If you know any Japanese, you probably already noticed that 心 kokoro (heart) on the end of kaishin. 改心 literally reads as “change of heart”. That’s right: the idea of a “change of heart” is explicitly part of the Japanese word for “reform”.

It’s also often described as a “change of heart” in the original - because not everything that’s translated as “change of heart” is kaishin. Here’s Morgana, wondering if Sojiro is abusing Futaba. He uses 更生 kousei, "rehabilitation”.

Morgana 更生すべきはゴシュジンってことになる⋯ kousei subeki wa goshujin tte koto ni naru... Maybe the chief is the one who needs a change of heart...

Here’s Medjed’s warning to the PTs, quoted on TV. Futaba uses the idiom 心を入れ替える kokoro o irekaeru, “to replace one’s heart”, literally meaning “reform” - to change your ways, to turn over a new leaf.

TV Reporter 『心を入れ替えるのであれば、我々の傘下に入ることを認めよう』 "kokoro o irekaeru no de areba, wareware no sanka ni iru koto o mitomeyou" If you agree to a change of heart, we will accept you as our own.

Lastly, here’s Akechi bringing some shade, the first time we see him on TV. He uses 心を無理やりねじ曲げる kokoro o muriyari nejimageru - “to forcibly distort someone’s heart”. nejimageru has the sense of twisting something into a pretzel, of using excessive force to bend something from its natural state. Note that this isn’t the same word used for e.g. “distorted desires” - that’s 歪んだyuganda, “distorted”.

Akechi 第一、人の心を無理やりねじ曲げるなんて、人間が一番やっちゃいけない事ですよ。 dai-ichi, hito no kokoro o muriyari nejimageru nante, ningen ga ichiban yaccha ikenai koto desu yo More importantly, you should never forcefully change a person's heart. Most importantly, using force to warp someone’s heart is the worst thing you can do.

briefly dons akechi whisperer hat: think about third semester with that line in mind.

how is kaishin used?

Here’s Yusuke after Madarame’s palace, being nice and straightforward. “Is that his reform? Is that him reforming?”

Yusuke あれが⋯改心なのか? are ga... kaishin na no ka? Is that the change of heart?

Then there’s “trigger a change of heart”, “make someone have a change of heart”. Like we said further up with how you can’t actually kaishin someone directly, this is always the causative. Here’s Ryuji talking about Okumura. “If we make him reform”

Ryuji ま、改心させりゃ済む話だ。行くぜ! ma, kaishin saserya sumu hanashi da. iku ze! Well, if we change his heart that'll be the end of it. Let's go!

And here’s Sojiro talking to Futaba after her palace, with a passive-causative. “Did they force you to reform against your will?” Note that Futaba replies with her explanation that the Phantom Thieves saved her, which makes more sense when you know Sojiro is afraid Futaba has been violated.

Sojiro お前は、その⋯『改心』させられたのか? omae wa, sono... “kaishin” saserareta no ka? Did they... trigger a change of heart in you?

It really puts a new light on several events in canon, when you know that when someone talks about a “change of heart”, they’re really just talking about a reform, that could be any reform; it doesn’t need magic. Several characters in P5 undergo voluntary reform, voluntary changes of heart - Sae does, Mishima does, Akechi does.

Ask a simple question, eh?

what's a psychotic breakdown?

I'm going to try to give this one its own post, because I have Thoughts and Feelings about Call of Chaos, and that seems like a good place to dump some of them.

what's medjed's catchphrase?

I'm really glad you asked this, because I remember wondering on my playthrough, and then I forgot all about it. However, question 1 has gone so long that this will have to be a separate post as well.