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#my theory was right but at what cost…
wraithscratch · 9 months
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finished the finale.
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luck-of-the-drawings · 11 months
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been followin slimes POV of the qsmp since it started but mMY GOOOODDDDD i never expected to fall so in love with it... I LOVE THE TRADGEDY OF A COMEDIC CHARACTER! so funny so silly, who could ever take him seriously? when the reaction to grief can be so overblown and strange, its hard not to laugh! because wheres the line, really? we're just here to have fun! i look forward to the day this guy snaps! its gonna be REALLY FUNNY i tell ya hwat!!!
(CREDIT TO A COMIC I REFERENCED UNDER THE CUT)
something about this comic makes me so so emotional, and its so well framed. to discover something by the end of a comic, to follow the same line of thought as a character within a drawing, to either come to the same conclusion, or the dramatic irony of figuring it out first. it was made by the talented Lynda Barry, and she has a wonderful shop here https://drawnandquarterly.com/books/greatest-marlys/
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#q!slimecicle#qsmp#qsmp fanart#qsmp slimecicle#NOT MY FIRST TIME DRAWIN SLIMECICLE BUT ITS DEF BEEN A WHHHIILE. THIS IS HOWEVER MY FIRST TIME DRAWIN THE OTHERS#LIKE ive never drawn philza or cellbit or pol or bbh before. i looked up MINIMAL refs and went off their minecraft skins. hope yall like em#FUN FACTS! i gave q!slime the green flannel (but the green plaid is silent) bc of katastrophics design for him#he also has the 3 hearts n the Bra'ad sash bc OFFCCC u just cant see that gay lil bag here#maybe one day ill draw a qslime with more detail#IN OTHER NEWS ! this series fascinates me SOOO MUCH! THE FEDS AND THE CODES N THE EGGS AND WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAANN???#I HAVVEEE theories abt juanaflippa. SPOILER WARNING IG BUT IM ABT TO RAAAAMBLE!!#SO this totally isnt flippa right. like this is someone else. this is one of the code beasts piloting either a costume or a corpse#BOTH INTRIGUE ME. but nonetheless. this thing is NEW and it is LEARNING and it LOVES ITS DAD#ITS NOT FLIPPA BUT OHH HOW NICE IT IS TO BE FLIPPA! TO BE FED AND HUGGED AND LOVED SO SO SO MUCH#AND YET SOMETHING IS SO TERRIBLY WRONG. SOMETHING IS BLEEDING OUT AND INFECTING THE AIR AND SOIL AND SPACE#AND ITS HURTING CODEFLIPPAS DAD! ITS TURNING HIM INTO SOMETHING ELS.E. HE DOESNT CARE BUT CERTAINLY SOMEONE ELSE DOES#MAYBE THE PEOPLE AROUND HIM. BUT MOST CERTAINLY IT MUST BE EATING AT THIS POOR LITTLE CODE#THIS POISONOUS LITTLE THING. THIS DISEASE. THIS VIRUS. IT JUST WANTS TO BE HELD A LITTLE LONGER. BUT AT WHAT COST?
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The rescent riots in the UK are despicable (but sadly not surprising).
Yes, what happened to those little girls is a tradgey, but the person who was responsible wasn't an asylum seeker, and even if he was, that would NOT excuse the racism displayed these past few weeks.
The people taking part clearly don't care about the safety of children as they're, scaring other people's & indoctrinationating their own into perpetuating racist acts.
Seven years is a lot, though! Then don't fucking join a hate group.
But the non white people are being violent too! Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you attack people. I'm not going to hate on people for standing up for themselves.
They're taking our jobs! Why do you believe that those jobs are YOURS? Are you actually qualified & able to make a good impression on bosses, or do you think just being white should be enough.
They don't work! Well Asylum seekers litrually aren't allowed to until their case gose through but plenty of other POC have jobs (I know you've seen them though it must be hard to make them out through that fog of hatred) & I've met plenty of white people who don't want to (no hate to those who can't because of disability or mental health issues) or loose jobs because they're just overall terrible employees (some of the shit I've seen middle aged white people do at their jobs is crazy).
They're all criminals! Well, that's just not true now is it plus it's been proven multiple times that the biggest factor in crime is poverty, NOT race & again I've encountered plenty of white people who've broken the law yet most didn't seem to get more than a slap on the wrist (if that). Strange, that isn't it?
Well, "those kinds" of men hate women! Ahh, yes, because there's never been white rapists, woman killers, stalkers or harrasers. Its been proven that hating women is a problem in all races & and sadly, the biggest threat to us is usually our own partners or family, not some random aylsum seeker (who if they do hurt women tend to go after the ones from their own community).
They're not from here! Ok, so I don't know if anyone told you, but you can actually be born here without being white and you can't ban people from a country just because of the colour of their skin. Also, neither was half my family, yet we never get told to go back to our own country. Hmm, I wonder if our white skin could possibly have anything to do with that.
They can't speak English! A lot of them are multilingual, actually (& you make fun of their accents) & for the ones who can't well you seem to hate them getting anything (such as English lessons) for free. Also, how many Brits go abroad despite refusing to learn absolutely anything about other countries (there's a reason we're known as disrespectful, violent, sex obsessed, drunks by most of the world).
Also sooner or later we are going to have to accept that a lot of the issues that make immigrants flee their home countries are caused (or at least made worse) by ours & other Western governments.
This country definitely has problems, but we should be taking them up with politicians & their rich mates. Who are the ones actually hording wealth made from the exploitation of the poor, not random people of colour who are just trying to live their lives.
#uk#uk race riots#uk racism#uk riots#riots#racisim#I wanted to post about this straight away but my job has been taking a lot out of me#my phyical & mental health has not been great#rescently (due to unrelated personal stuff) & I wanted to make sure I worded my thoughts as fully & appropriately as possible.#so even though it's later than it should have been (which I apologize for) I thought I should still comment on the situation#Especially as a white person who was born outside the uk but has lived here bassically my whole life#Lastly I wanted to let my followers know where I stand#i know i reblogged something about whats been happening a while back but it felt wrong not to give my actual thoughts on the matter#my heart gose out to any poc struggling right now#i wish i could say this isn't my country but there's always been a racist underbelly to the UK#& unfortunately it seems to be bubbling up more & more these past few years#i think social media is partly to blame (thanks to vice in misinformation & conspiracy theories)#obviously covid plays a part as well (people have lost so much & need somewhere to put their anger)#but the biggest cause (other than personal choise of course as I don't ever wanna erase the accountability of biggits) is our government#cost of living crisis mixed with low wages & little effective financial help#of course jobs are gonna be scarce#add on top of that our failing infurtructer#& no wonder the uk is a mess#but again people need something more tangebible to blame#& the torries (+ all right wing media) have wasted no time in turning migrants into the ultimate scapegoats#& unfortunately people keep falling for it#even my dad has started in on the “woke mob” stuff & its like i still love you & i know you’ve had a hard life but#god is it upsetting to hear#like he was never very PC but he was pretty radical#now he's becoming more & more like his dad (who was apparently a fascist) & i know younger him would hate that
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loverboydotcom · 11 months
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the 'i want to do my masters in writing so i can teach writing at university level' to 'i'm starting to believe creative writing should not be a degree that you can get at all' pipeline
#not in a shaming individuals who have or plan to get writing degrees way. i mean im still considering it#like from an academisation of writing pov....#i dont think a writing degree should have the weight that it does with the barriers it creates#the thing is my dream job/state of existence is things that would only be possible to keep me afloat#if i did writing postgrad and go the right connections at the right time#but i dont like anything that turns writing into an institution and creates barriers for access#i dont think writers esp vulnerable writers should be taught that to get certain levels of access they need#to put themselves through a system that is so sexist misogynistic homophobic transphobic racist ableist bigoted etc#and that's if they can even GET in the programs in the first place#i got offers for my dream MA two years in a row and the only thing that stopped me was costs#and now if i apply again i wont be able to use my writing teachers as references because they have to have taught me in the last two years#SO WHO TF DO I USE!!!!#i think there needs to be more cultivation in spaces that study and share writing theory and create workshop and connections without#the academic institution of it all#idk im starting to be like what will a writing MFA give me except connections and access#also i was wondering why im slower at writing short fiction than i was last year BITCH!! YOU WERE IN A CREATIVE WRITING CLASS#you literally HAD to write stories so you might as well submit them!#the only reason i have a pushcart nom and a writing grant is bc of the stories i had to write for that class
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stinkbeck · 2 years
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i hate you, 95 pages i have to read by tomorrow.
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boreal-sea · 3 months
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Look.
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I have made you a chart. A very simple chart.
People say "You have to draw the line somewhere, and Biden has crossed it-" and my response is "Trump has crossed way more lines than Biden".
These categories are based off of actual policy enacted by both of these men while they were in office.
If the ONLY LINE YOU CARE ABOUT is line 12, you have an incredible amount of privilege, AND YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT PALESTINIANS. You obviously have nothing to fear from a Trump presidency, and you do not give a fuck if a ceasefire actually occurs. You are obviously fine if your queer, disabled, and marginalized loved ones are hurt. You clearly don't care about the status of American democracy, which Trump has openly stated he plans to destroy on day 1 he is in office.
EDIT:
Ok fine, I spent 3 hours compiling sources for all of these, you can find that below the cut.
I'll give at least one link per subject area. There are of course many more sources to be read on these subject areas and no post could possibly give someone a full education on these subjects.
Biden and trans rights: https://www.hrc.org/resources/president-bidens-pro-lgbtq-timeline
Trump and trans rights: https://www.aclu.org/news/lgbtq-rights/trump-on-lgbtq-rights-rolling-back-protections-and-criminalizing-gender-nonconformity
The two sources above show how Biden has done a lot of work to promote trans rights, and how Trump did a lot of work to hurt trans rights.
Biden on abortion access: https://www.cnn.com/2022/07/08/politics/what-is-in-biden-abortion-executive-order/index.html
Trump on abortion access: https://apnews.com/article/abortion-trump-republican-presidential-election-2024-585faf025a1416d13d2fbc23da8d8637
Biden openly supports access to abortion and has taken steps to protect those rights at a federal level even after Roe v Wade was overturned. Trump, on the other hand, was the man who appointed the judges who helped overturn Roe v Wade and he openly brags about how proud he is of that decision. He also states that he believes individual states should have the final say in whether or not abortion is legal, and that he trusts them to "do the right thing", meaning he supports stronger abortion bans.
Biden on environmental reform: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2021/10/07/fact-sheet-president-biden-restores-protections-for-three-national-monuments-and-renews-american-leadership-to-steward-lands-waters-and-cultural-resources/
Trump on environmental reform: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/climate/trump-environment-rollbacks-list.html
Biden has made major steps forward for environmental reform. He has restored protections that Trump rolled back. He has enacted many executive orders and more to promote environmental protections, including rejoining the Paris Accords, which Trump withdrew the USA from. Trump is also well known for spreading conspiracy theories and lies about global climate change, calling it a "Chinese hoax".
Biden on healthcare and prescription reform: https://www.hhs.gov/about/news/2023/06/09/biden-administration-announces-savings-43-prescription-drugs-part-cost-saving-measures-president-bidens-inflation-reduction-act.html
Trump on healthcare reform: https://www.cnn.com/2024/01/07/politics/obamacare-health-insurance-ending-trump/index.html
I'm rolling healthcare and prescriptions and vaccines and public health all into one category here since they are related. Biden has lowered drug costs, expanded access to medicaid, and ACA enrollment has risen during his presidency. He has also made it so medical debt no longer applies to a person's credit score. He signed many executive orders during his first few weeks in office in order to get a handle on Trump's grievous mishandling of the COVID pandemic. Trump also wants to end the ACA. Trump is well known for refusing to wear a mask during the pandemic, encouraging the use of hydroxylchloroquine to "treat" COVID, and being openly anti-vaxx.
Biden on student loan forgiveness: https://www.ed.gov/news/press-releases/biden-harris-administration-announces-additional-77-billion-approved-student-debt-relief-160000-borrowers
Trump on student loan forgiveness: https://www.forbes.com/sites/adamminsky/2024/06/20/trump-knocks-bidens-vile-student-loan-forgiveness-plans-suggests-reversal/
Trump wants to reverse the student loan forgiveness plans Biden has enacted. Biden has already forgiven billions of dollars in loans and continues to work towards forgiving more.
Infrastructure funding:
I'm putting these links next together because they are all about infrastructure.
In general, Trump's "achievements" for infrastructure were to destroy environmental protections to speed up projects. Many of his plans were ineffective due to the fact that he did not clearly outline where the money was going to come from, and he was unwilling to raise taxes to pay for the projects. He was unable (and unwilling) to pass a bipartisan infrastructure bill during his 4 years in office. He did sign a few disaster relief bills. He did not enthusiastically promote renewable energy infrastructure. He created "Infrastructure Weeks" that the federal government then failed to fund. Trump did not do nothing for infrastructure, but his no-tax stance and his dislike for renewable energy means the contributions he made to American infrastructure were not as much as he claimed they were, nor as much as they could have been. Basically, he made a lot of promises, and delivered on very few of them. He is not "against" infrastructure, but he's certainly against funding it.
Biden was able to pass that bipartisan bill after taking office. The Bipartisan Infrastructure Plan that Trump tried to prevent from passing during Biden's term contains concrete funding sources and step by step plans to rebuild America's infrastructure. If you want to read the plan, you can find it here: https://www.whitehouse.gov/build/guidebook/. Biden has done far more for American infrastructure than Trump did, most notably by actually getting the bipartisan bill through congress.
Biden on Racial Equity: https://www.npr.org/sections/president-biden-takes-office/2021/01/26/960725707/biden-aims-to-advance-racial-equity-with-executive-actions
Trump on Racial Equity: https://www.axios.com/2024/04/01/trump-reverse-racism-civil-rights https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-us-canada-37230916
Trump's racist policies are loud and clear for everyone to hear. We all heard him call Mexicans "Drug dealers, criminals, rapists". We all watched as he enacted travel bans on people from majority-Muslim nations. Biden, on the other hand, has done quite a lot during his term to attempt to reconcile racism in this country, including reversing Trump's "Muslim ban" the first day he was in office.
Biden on DEI: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2021/06/25/executive-order-on-diversity-equity-inclusion-and-accessibility-in-the-federal-workforce/
Trump on DEI: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/trump-tried-to-crush-the-dei-revolution-heres-how-he-might-finish-the-job/ar-BB1jg3gz
Biden supports DEI and has signed executive orders and passed laws that support DEI on the federal level. Trump absolutely hates DEI and wants to eradicate it.
Biden on criminal justice reform: https://time.com/6155084/biden-criminal-justice-reform/
Trump on criminal justice reform: https://www.vox.com/2020-presidential-election/21418911/donald-trump-crime-criminal-justice-policy-record https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2024/05/trumps-extreme-plans-crime/678502/
From pardons for non-violent marijuana convictions to reducing the federal government's reliance on private prisons, Biden has done a lot in four years to reform our criminal justice system on the federal level. Meanwhile, Trump has described himself as "tough on crime". He advocates for more policing, including "stop and frisk" activities. Ironically it's actually quite difficult to find sources about what Trump thinks about crime, because almost all of the search results are about his own crimes.
Biden on military support for Israel: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/national-security/biden-obama-divide-closely-support-israel-rcna127107
Trump on military support for Israel: https://www.vox.com/politics/353037/trump-gaza-israel-protests-biden-election-2024
Biden supports Israel financially and militarily and promotes holding Israel close. So did Trump. Trump was also very pro-Israel during his time in office and even moved the embassy to Jerusalem and declared Jerusalem the capitol of Israel, a move that inflamed attitudes in the region.
Biden on a ceasefire: https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/world/2024/06/05/gaza-israel-hamas-cease-fire-plan-biden/73967659007/
Trump on a ceasefire: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/trump-israel-gaza-finish-problem-rcna141905
Trump has tried to be quiet on the issue but recently said he wants Israel to "finish the problem". He of course claims he could have prevented the whole problem. Trump also openly stated after Oct 7th that he would bar immigrants who support Hamas from the country and send in officers to American protests to arrest anyone supporting Hamas.
Biden meanwhile has been quietly urging Netanyahu to accept a ceasefire deal for months, including the most recent announcement earlier in June, though it seems as though that deal has finally fallen through as well.
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altruistic-meme · 6 months
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how dare they steal my car and not even tell me what's wrong
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rizsu · 11 months
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he's married ?! nanami kento.
sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?
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nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.
in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.
"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.
the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.
guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.
"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.
"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.
it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.
"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.
nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"
there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.
"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.
tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"
nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.
nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.
"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.
he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.
"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.
nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.
he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.
nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."
his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.
"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.
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saintobio · 2 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. (final part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)
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in the painful memory of what once was, sylus learns that love can't be bound where it was never meant to stay.
♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader
♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+
♱ tags. sylus's pov, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus might be ooc, main story spoilers, razor's dance spoilers, nightplumes spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), espionage, jealousy, brief smut, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation kink, mentions of accidents, suicide attempt, injuries, blood, usage of guns, usage of knife, killings, death, my own theories incorporated into the lore, sylus groveling bcos yall want him to
♱ notes. 9.5k wc. l&ds!mc is referred to here as 'diana'. THIS IS A REPOST of the original post i accidentally deleted. i already posted this several hours ago, so if you’re seeing this new one again, blame my dumbass 🤧 oh well life is life.
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Sylus had a part of him that wished things could be different. 
Ever since he turned away and left you that night at the alleyway, he didn’t really realize the chain of events his decision would set into motion. He simply underestimated how strongly your threats were backed by the grudge you had on him for bringing the hunter girl from Linkon into his base.
After all, you were just an assistant of his. And her, she was everything to him. It wasn’t just about the Aether Core, too—their bond stretched back into his distant past, into another planet where two of them ruled before the inhabitants of Philos came to ruin everything. Him and Diana had a connection he couldn’t sever no matter how much you had come to mean to him. And he spent years, centuries even, just to search for her. 
So, how could a mere assistant he had known for less than a decade have such entitlement to her role in his life? 
Eventually, days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. With your prolonged absence from the Onychinus base, Sylus’s business transactions and illicit deals had become increasingly unruly. He had grown too dependent on you as his right-hand woman, relying on your meticulous management to ensure all his illegal activities ran smoothly. Yet now, without your oversight, things were falling apart.
And while he was contemplating how to fill the void your absence had created, the office door slammed open. A subordinate soon rushed in, breathless and wide-eyed. “Boss, she’s betrayed us!” Luke exclaimed. “She’s gone to the Hunter’s Association. We got word that she was a high-ranking intelligence agent there!”
“A.K.A a spy!” yelled the other twin, Kieran, who looked equally hurt at your betrayal. “She fooled all of us. And here, we treated her like family.” 
That was how Sylus learned that you had left the N109 Zone, seeking refuge in Linkon City, and had exposed critical intel on Onychinus. At the time, rage naturally exploded within him. Didn’t he take good care of you while you were here? He had given you everything, trusted you, and you had thrown it all away. Four years of falling into his trap. Four years of being his partner in crime, his right-hand woman, his lover. People even saw you as the modern day Bonnie & Clyde. Sylus couldn’t understand the root of your betrayal, couldn’t imagine how letting you slip away from his grasp would cost him so much in return.
When you vowed to do everything in your power to kill Diana, was this just a part of your grand scheme? What other machinations were you orchestrating in your pursuit of revenge?
“She’s a wild animal on loose.” Sylus looked up at the twins, maintaining a calm yet ruthless mien as he sat on the couch. He might be idly tossing a coin like he didn’t care, but inside his brain was chaos ensuing. “Where’s she now? Any news?”
It was Luke who shrugged in response. “She hasn’t been seen anywhere, boss-man.”
“We suspect the Association is hiding her,” Kieran added. 
The hunter girl, Diana—the very girl you were jealous of, was sitting next to Sylus throughout the conversation. Their hands were connected by a strong energy linkage that was seemingly ignited by the Aether Cores in their bodies. They couldn’t separate themselves even if they wanted to. And God forbid you would have lost your mind tenfold had you seen their situation right now. 
“That g-girl,” gasped the hunter girl, eyes wide in bewilderment at what she was hearing. “Sylus, your assistant. She did all that? She was a spy from the Hunter’s Association?” 
Luke tilted her head at the girl, his beaked mask mocking her. “Oh, miss hunter! Haven’t you heard about the HIS? You should know them better than us.” 
“Well.. what is the HIS?” 
“Hunter Intelligence Services.” Sylus was the one who answered, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his temples. “They’re top secret. Regular hunters wouldn’t have known about them, because they only deal with people like me.” 
Diana looked between him and the twins, rubbing her wrist before moving closer to the boss of Onychinus. Her close proximity allowed him to smell her familiar sweet scent. “Is she… after me? But I don’t understand. If she’s part of the Hunter’s Association too, then shouldn’t we be colleagues?”
Kieran cleared his throat. “Ever since you came—”
“Place a bounty on her head,” Sylus interrupted the twins, and also ignored the question of the girl next to him. She didn’t need to learn the history behind you and him, or why you chose to target her. “Make sure to bring Y/N back to me. Alive.” 
“Roger that, boss!” 
It was his last desperate attempt to draw you back to him. Now that you had the Hunter’s Association protecting you, Sylus knew that locating you wouldn’t be as simple. Otherwise, he would have easily captured Diana long ago. He convinced himself that the bounty was to punish you, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn’t bear to lose you to his enemies completely.
~~
It took you a year to return to the N109 Zone.
Did you forget he had eyes and ears everywhere? He was the boss of that infamous No-Hunt Zone. Even if you leaked intel about his residences and the Onychinus base to the Hunter’s Association, Sylus still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had hideouts in places that even you weren’t aware of, and the residents of the N109 Zone were loyal to him. Too loyal that they wouldn’t give any information to anyone no matter the consequences. 
And how foolish were you to forget about Mephisto’s existence?
“Caw! Caw!”
The mechanical crow’s eyes glowed with the same red hue as Sylus’s as it landed on his arm, projecting visions of you entering the underground fight club disguised in an Onychinus uniform. It was almost farcical that you thought you could infiltrate a place Sylus frequented unnoticed.
But then, the vision shifted to you speeding on a motorcycle with a truck in hot pursuit. Sylus quickly recognized the truck’s decals—it was the hitman he often employed for dealing with his enemies, now terrorizing you in a high-speed chase. Without hesitation, Sylus grabbed his leather jacket and mounted his own bike, racing to your location in sixth gear.
He arrived just a minute too late. And what was meant to be a dramatic reunion turned into a scene of you lying unconscious and injured on the road, while the hitman grinned nearby with an expression of triumph. If it hadn’t been for your helmet, Sylus would have been met with the gruesome sight of your shattered skull.
“Mr. Sylus!” the hitman exclaimed, jumping out of his truck with arms outstretched in petty victory. “Can I get the $500,000,000 in cash?”
As Sylus’s gaze fell on your unconscious, injured body sprawled on the ground, a surge of anguish overwhelmed him in ways he couldn’t understand. But it was quickly replaced by seething rage—rage that made him summon his black-red mist, enveloping the hitman in its dark tendrils.
“I said not to harm her,” Sylus growled, his red eye glowing ominously against the desolate highway backdrop. “You failed your task.”
“P-Please, Mr. Sylus! I thought you—”
Without another word, Sylus scooped you up in his arms while his mist dealt with the hitman behind him. The hitman’s desperate cries were soon drowned out by the expanding tendrils, which tightened around him until he was engulfed. Then, in a violent burst, the mist exploded, reducing the hitman and everything around him to dust.
Sylus brought you to his underground hideout immediately after. And an unfamiliar—or perhaps strange—pang tugged at his heart as he gently laid you in bed, his gaze lingering on the road rash you obtained from the crash. The injuries were severe, with patches of skin nearly stripped away in the most brutal fashion he could think of. He could only imagine the burning pain you had to endure as soon as you skidded along the gravel, and Sylus felt his own frustrations knocking at the door knowing that he didn’t have the power to extend his fast-healing abilities to you.
“Tch. My kitten’s reckless as always, riding without the proper gear,” Sylus grumbled, looking at your unconscious body. “You’ve never been one to follow the rules, have you?”
To make up for his inability to save you on time, he applied a potent medicinal ointment all over your body and placed you in an anesthetized state while you healed. His mist enveloped you like a protective shroud the entire time you laid in bed unconscious. Every single day, Sylus tended to your wounds, changing your clothes and bandages, and applying the ointments over your bare body. He even took special care to ensure the twins did not enter your room without his permission. 
Despite the care he showed, a persistent question echoed in his mind: Why am I doing this for you? You were his enemy, a traitor, and a woman who had betrayed him. It didn’t make sense. 
That afternoon, feeling suffocated from this internal conflict, Sylus decided to leave you in the care of Luke and Kieran while he went to Linkon. He knew he needed space to grapple with the feelings that were driving him to care for you in the first place.
He needed to see the real woman he should be caring for. 
Because you had not only exposed intel on Sylus and Onychinus to the Hunter’s Association, you also asked for them to isolate Diana so she would have no way to see or contact him. Who knew that mere feelings of jealousy would spark you to do such trivial things? 
Frankly, you were insane. You were dark and twisted like him. 
But in a way, it only underscored how similarly deranged the two of you were. Perhaps, in your madness, there was a strange compatibility—one that Sylus found unsettlingly fitting. The suggestion of you two being more a suitable pair than he and Diana gave him an unease that he couldn’t simply shake away. 
It should be her. Her. Just her and her alone. He dedicated his whole life into finding her, yet you came into his life to ruin the foundations he had built to meet the person he was supposedly destined for. He had repeated it over and over in his mind like a broken record—the voices in his head telling him to let you go, to hurt you, to make you suffer. 
However, as he stood across the pedestrian crossing, watching Diana from afar, a realization hit him like a cold gust of wind. There she was, oblivious to his presence on the other side, but the spark that once ignited in his heart whenever he saw her was gone. Now, his pulse remained steady and his heart stayed still.
With a wary glance around, mindful of any watchful eyes, he decided to pick up his phone and ring hers. It was a good thing he was able to seamlessly blend into the crowd, with his practiced nonchalance making him invisible among the throng of people. After all, he was Sylus Qin, the mastermind of Onychinus—disguise was second nature to him.
“Sylus?” Her voice came through the line, tentative and filled with a mix of emotions as she scanned the faces on the other side of the crossing.
“According to the conditions set by the Hunter’s Association, we shouldn’t be meeting again.” His voice was steady, almost detached, as he kept the phone pressed to his ear. “Or if not, you will be marked as a Tenebra.” 
Her eyes eventually found him amidst the walking crowd, keeping an expression on her face that showed both longing and forlornness. “Not the first time someone has been marked a Tenebra because of you,” she managed to slip in a snarky remark in her worried expression. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” 
“Are you worried about me?” he nonchalantly asked, watching as she stepped off the curb when the light turned green. Each step was a step closer to him, but nothing changed the pace of his own heartbeat like it should have. Nothing stirred within him as it once did.
“You have the audacity to use a phone when you’re right in front of me,” she snapped, frustration flaring as she yanked the phone from his grasp. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm, dragging him along with her to escape the dangers of being seen in public. They ended up in an alleyway, a place hidden from prying eyes, an irony that made Sylus chuckle under his breath. The alleyway. Why has that become such a memorable place to him? “Sylus, what’s so funny? I was so scared something happened to you! You couldn’t even call me back or text me the past few days?”
He remained expressionless as he observed her outburst. Strange. In her frantic worry, she reminded him of you, and it was a discomfiting parallel that sent chills down his spine. “I said I’d need to disappear from your life completely, so I have to tie up loose ends,” he began, each word seemingly a dagger to her heart. “We haven’t been able to resonate either way, sweetie. There’s no reason for us to keep meeting.” 
“No!” she adamantly denied the thought, pulling him into an embrace. “No, you’re not allowed to disappear just like that! We need to find a way to get—”
“It’s a dangerous gamble to be caught in my world,” he said in a low voice. 
But she was stubborn. “I’m already caught in it! So, please, Sylus, take me with you. Take me to the N109 Zone or wherever you’re hiding. I want to be where you are.” And in spite, she uttered words that made Sylus think twice about his perception of you. “It’s her fault that this is all happening. She’s a traitor to you and to the Association. Her loyalty isn’t with anyone but herself, Sylus. She’s the one who needs to disappear!”
~~
Back at his hideout, Sylus was careful to ensure that Diana remained oblivious to your presence in another room. He was already grappling with how to manage the situation—torn between the woman he loved and the woman he had wronged who, ironically, were both now under the same roof. The thought of you two crossing paths was a nightmare he didn’t want to deal with, so he gave strict orders to the twins, notorious for their loose lips and loud mouths, to keep Diana far from you.
Because when Sylus returned to your room, he knew you were awake. The dark classical music playing from the vinyl record had likely stirred you from unconsciousness. It had been nearly a week since the crash, but thanks to his meticulous care, your wounds had mostly healed, leaving only faint scars behind.
“You can’t hide from me forever.” Sylus hovered over you to whisper into your ear, summoning his protective black-red mist to slowly release you. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.” 
When you finally opened your eyes after what felt like an eternity, Sylus told himself it was natural to feel relieved, that it was only right for his heart to soften at the sight of you returning to consciousness. But as you awoke, the voices in his head—the damned, relentless voices—grew louder, mocking him, provoking him, and luring him into darker thoughts. His right eye began to glow like a flickering candle, and when he saw the fear on your face, the words that followed weren’t his own. They were driven by the unforgiving side of him he couldn’t control, a side that thrived on your terror. The beast that couldn’t be tamed. 
She’s a traitor.
Punish her. 
Hurt her. 
Devour her. 
While in a heated, dramatic exchange with you, Sylus was spewing words he didn’t mean. He was doing actions without regard. He was mocking your pain. Your jealousy. Your heartbreak. The drive to hurt you was strong in his head, but he fought desperately against it. The demon inside him that tried to consume his every thought. He tried to battle his own self just to protect you. 
“I betrayed you because of her!” 
His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened, replaced by the wicked smile on his face that enjoyed seeing you suffer. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”
You tried to move away, but Sylus pressed his foot firmly on your wrist. She betrayed you, Sylus. Punish her. 
“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with corrupt satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”
It wasn’t until you reached for the gun on his nightstand, pointing it at yourself, that Sylus snapped out of his dark trance. The horror in his eyes was a stark contrast to the sorrowful shine in yours as you stood there, sobbing in front of him. Each word you spoke was tailed with the pain of a heart shattered by everything he had done and said. 
“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment, but your heart had already been blown into smithereens. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”
Even as his gaze softened and a flicker of regret passed across his face, you had already made your decision when your finger tightened on the trigger. The recoil jolted your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. Instead of ending your life, the bullet shattered a window, ricocheting off the glass and disappearing into the night.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his voice a thunderous mix of fury and disbelief.
You were barely responding to him as he cupped your cheeks and forced your lachrymose eyes to lock into his crimson ones. It was as though you had already resigned yourself to reality, that ending your own life would have been a better option than being with the man you hopelessly loved. 
“Y/N,” Sylus tried to shake you awake, desperate for you to look into his eyes. “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.” 
“...I was never playing one with you.”
Sylus was overwhelmed by a profound, indescribable pain that pierced his chest. It was a pain that mirrored yours but was infinitely more intense. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me,” he said in a low, softened voice, “It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe. Why don’t you listen?” He longed to pull you into his arms, but the crushing reality was that he only now realized how deeply he cared for you. It was devastating that his awakening had come at the cost of your near-suicide, forced by a love he was unable to return.
Was it truly too late for him to come to terms with his feelings for you? Was it too late to accept that he had fallen in love with you rather than the woman he believed he was meant to be with?
His answer came in the form of a gut-wrenching realization. It manifested in the frantic voice of Diana—the woman he believed he loved, piercing through the haze of his thoughts by yelling, “Sylus, step back!”
“No!” he shouted, his black-red mist swirling to intercept the bullet.
But his efforts came too late. The bullet had already been set in motion, and it tore through the side of your head. 
It penetrated your skull with a cruel precision, not just once but twice. And the warmth of your blood seeped through his fingers as he caught your head before you fell onto the floor. 
Sylus’s mind raced with the enormity of what had just happened. His face grew ashen as he looked at your bloodied head and lifeless eyes, a wave of acid welling up his chest until he couldn’t breath. But the reason for his suffocation was because of his own guilt and grief. It was at the force of a sledgehammer when he was hit with the admission that he had always been in love with you. All along, despite your tangled mess, it was you who had captured his heart in this world.
His chest tightened, his breaths coming in ragged, broken bursts, while he held you close in his arms. And your last three words, your very last words of “I… love… you…” as you stared despairingly at him was icing on this bitter cake. 
No… no! 
He couldn’t fucking accept it. He was losing his mind, he was going insane. He was plunging into madness. Utter hysteria. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking as your eyes, once full of life and light, were now glazed over with the sheen of death. “Don’t leave. No, I can’t let this happen!” For the first time in a long time, he once again felt hot tears leaving his eyes. It was an emotion so rare it only ever showed toward the people he deeply cared about. “I love you too,” he struggled to say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said back there.”
Sylus held you close, disregarding the blood staining his clothes while he was consumed by agony and regret. He had driven you to this, pushed you away, and then drawn you back into his orbit only to lose you forever. 
Though he may have conquered your heart, in doing so, he had only destroyed the both of you. The memory of your love and the warmth of your touch would haunt him for the rest of his days. And as he held your lifeless body, he knew that he would never be whole again.
But it shouldn’t be too late. No, it shouldn’t! He didn’t know if it was the hysteria or adrenaline kicking into him, but he had thought of an idea—no matter how immoral—that would return you back to him. He just couldn’t weigh which strong emotion he had to deal with first; should he grab the gun and shoot Diana out of anger? Or should he ignore her presence entirely and just focus on you?
Sylus chose to proceed with the latter as he carried you through the corridors of the base, his steps heavy with guilt and his shirt drenched in blood as you remained unconscious in his arms. The hunter girl had followed him in his spiritless steps, her eyes wide with confusion over his anguish.
“Sylus, why are you doing this?!” she demanded, grabbing his arm to halt his progress. “She would’ve killed you. That girl’s a traitor!”
Although he stopped in his tracks, he couldn’t really return her gaze. His eyes could only look at your lifeless ones. “That girl you shot in the head,” he spoke low and in despair, “is my woman.” 
Diana was horrified. “But… but you never said—” Before she could finish, the twins intervened, holding her back from pursuing Sylus further. “What about me?”
He had already turned away. “I’ll fulfill my promise to protect you from afar, but this is where our paths part. Do not come near me again.”
~~
Sylus stood over your unconscious body, his eyes bloodshot and tears-streaked, while his heart pounded with a mix of grief and desperation. He had summoned Philip and the finest surgeons he knew to his hideout, where you lay in a medical bed, exposed and vulnerable, as if you were a subject in a desperate experiment.
Philip arrived with a grim expression, his eyes scanning the scene with both skepticism and professional detachment. Sylus could barely contain his desperation as he demanded, “Do everything you can to save her. Even if it means infusing a high-grade protocore in her brain.” After all, he had plenty of that. Sylus had all the resources, protocores of the highest grade, each with their own purpose and capabilities.
Yet Philip hesitated, his face contorting with concern. “Mr. Sylus, you know I can’t do this. She’s gone. The best thing to do is accept—”
That was when Sylus’s composure cracked. He kicked the nearby chair out of rage, tears streaming down his face as he begged, “You’ve done it before. Do it again! Please, I need her to live!”
The sight of Sylus, usually so imposing and dominant, breaking down in front of him was shocking. Philip felt a pang of sympathy toward the Onychinus boss who was willing to do everything for a woman who was already dead. His hands trembled as he spoke, “I-I can try. But I’m warning you, Mr. Sylus… even if she survives this, there’s zero chance her memories will be the same. They may even become altered, and it will be out of our control.”
Sylus’s gaze never left you. “I don’t mind. Just do it.”
~~
Weeks later, Sylus found himself in a secluded alleyway, meeting with a deepspace hunter who was also an enemy of his from another planet. Of course, the atmosphere was tense as both men stood in front of each other, eye-to-eye, carrying a defensive stance from one another. 
They were never friends. But that day, they weren’t enemies either. 
“How’s she?” Xavier broke the silence first. 
Sylus answered with a low voice. “She hasn’t woken up, but she’s stable.”
“Why’d you ask to meet?”
“I want you to look after her,” the Onychinus leader began, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of desperation, “Speak to the Association about taking Y/N back and forgiving her for her betrayal. In return, I’ll step away from Diana’s life. She’s all yours. I just want Y/N to return to her normal life.”
Xavier’s expression was serious. “You’re forgetting you still have a bounty on your head.”
“And you’re forgetting you and your backtrackers destroyed the planet where I was living,” he replied in equal disdain, but only enough to trap Xavier into a wall of guilt and obligation.
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Lumiere—or, in his current form, the deepspace hunter, Xavier. “The HIS will be easy to convince. But what if she wakes up and wants to go back to the N109 Zone?”
Sylus felt a tug of deep sadness pulling at his heart. “She won’t. Her memories of me are gone for good.” 
~~
If this was his karma for hurting you, then it was definitely the worst kind. 
Sylus maintained a distant watch over you after you returned to Linkon, observing from afar as you rejoined your life with the support of the Hunter’s Association and former colleagues. Each day, he sent Mephisto to monitor your whereabouts, carefully tracking your interactions and daily activities. The mechanical crow often returned with glimpses of your life, which Sylus scrutinized with intense focus as if he were watching a movie. Each glimpse offered him a sense of relief, happiness even, at knowing how easy you were settling back into your old life. 
You had been officially dismissed from the Hunter’s Association due to a medical condition that rendered you unfit for duty, but they continued to cover your pension and provided free lodging—likely thanks to Xavier’s persuasive influence over the Association. The official story was that you had been sent on a dangerous mission where a Wanderer had placed you in a life-threatening predicament. The narrative praised your honor and dedication to the end. There was no mention of Sylus, Onychinus, or the N109 Zone. No hint of the life you had once led or the truth behind your memory erasure. 
Yet, in a bitter twist of irony, perhaps the story you were told may not actually be farther from the truth.
After all, Sylus was the dangerous monster that sent you to that life-and-death situation.
But at least now, you were well cared for. So much so that Sylus fought to contain his jealousy whenever Mephisto’s eyes relayed visions of you sharing lunch with a physician named Dr. Zayne. He struggled to mask his irritation as he saw the man drape an arm around your shoulders while guiding you out of the hospital or wrapping a scarf around your neck to keep you warm. He would often even drive you home and send you gifts that were masked as tokens of “recovery.”
Bullshit.
Sylus clenched his fist, his thoughts of jealousy consuming him. My girl, he thought in despair, my beautiful girl is cherished by other men, while he remained imprisoned in the desolate shadows of the N109 Zone, longing for you.
Eventually, Sylus felt an overwhelming urge to see you in person. After discovering that you had taken a job at a café in Bloomshore District, he convinced himself that observing you from a distance wouldn’t cause harm. He just wanted to be near you, to ensure your safety, and to protect you from any potential threats.
As he sat on a nearby bench, Luke joined him with a comment. “Boss, you said we needed to disappear from her life.”
Kieran, taking a seat on Sylus’s other side, added, “Do you think she’d recognize us if we walked into that café? If she doesn’t, I’ll give her a hard time with my orders ‘til she remembers us!”
“Ha ha! Let’s do that!” 
“Boss, let’s go!” 
“Leave her be.” Sylus took a deep breath, adjusting his sunglasses and setting aside his newspaper—part of his disguise—as he watched you through the café window. He noticed the subtle traces of familiarity in your actions, but the connections that once bound you were now distant memories. “...I’m just here to make sure no one’s bothering her.”
The truth was, he wrestled with his emotions each time he visited the café you were working at. He wanted to approach you, to speak to you, but he hesitated each time because of the fear of rejection and the pain of seeing you not remember him holding him back. There were so many what-ifs in his head that it drove him insane to think about. 
Because if anything, what if you were already seeing someone else? What if you were already in a relationship with that scumbag doctor from the Akso Hospital? 
It was petty jealousy that drove Sylus into stepping into the café. And the first time your eyes met since you resurrected, his heart initially froze, then raced uncontrollably. His heart swelled with hope as you looked up at him, but it was quickly replaced by the lack of recognition in your eyes the moment you spoke from the counter. 
“Hi. What can I get you?” you asked, treating him no differently than any other customer. 
Sylus was caught off-guard, but he knew he had to play the part. “I, uh, I’ll get an Americano. Large.” 
“Alright, sir. And your name, please?” you asked, following your routine without any real interest in the man before you. 
But in a way, this was a relief for Sylus. It confirmed that the protocore embedded in your head was functioning as intended, and that any dark memories from the past had been completely erased, even if it meant he was no longer part of your life. 
“Skye,” he said with a soft smile. “That’s my name.”
~~
There wasn’t a single day Sylus missed visiting the café. 
At first, he worried that his constant presence might seem odd, or that you might think of him as a stalker. But as the days passed, seeing you became an essential part of his routine. A day without catching a glimpse of you felt incomplete, almost maddening. Seeing you was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
Initially, you found his regular visits a bit strange, but gradually, the small interactions between you two evolved. Sylus began to appear at the café just when you needed him most—whether it was fixing a broken coffee machine, addressing rude customers, or simply offering a helping hand. These acts of kindness somehow transformed your view of him. What started as a customer-service relationship slowly became more personable, and in recent days, you often greeted him warmly and smiled whenever he walked in. If only you knew how badly it warmed his heart that he got to do things for you without making him feel like he was intruding in your life.
And to be honest, Sylus even felt like he might be—as Luke termed it—foolishly ”crushing” on you. 
“Who knew our boss-man could be a hopeless romantic~?”
There was a time when he visited the café, only to find out from your manager that you called in sick from work. Sylus knew where you lived, but going to your place uninvited was a different story. He had to put some boundaries no matter how worried he was for you. But that was when Mephisto became useful; the mechanical crow would simply fly off to your place and observe you from outside. Then, an idea to drop a box of medicines and chocolates at your balcony was something he had thought of at the last minute. 
Back in the N109 Zone, Sylus anxiously looked at his crow. “Are you sure she didn’t see you?” 
“Caw! Caw!” 
“Did she eat the chocolates?” he asked, exhaling a deep breath he didn’t think he was holding.
“Caw! Caw! Caaaw!” Mephisto responded, fluttering its wings as if to reassure him.
~~
And then, that day happened. 
The day Sylus finally gathered the courage to ask you out, fate had other plans. And what began as a simple gesture to offer you a ride home during a stormy night quickly escalated into something far more intense.
Because one moment, he was offering you a ride. The next, he found himself in your bed, having the most passionate sex he had ever had with someone. He wasn’t even sure if he could call it that, because it felt more like he was making love to you, even if to you, he was probably just an attractive guy you unexpectedly hooked up with. 
So, he had to make himself known. He had to hear his real name leaving your lips. “Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curves, “Call me Sylus, kitten.” 
That night, he was an insatiable man who could only be satisfied by his woman. 
When he was buried far too deep inside you, he enjoyed the sight of ecstasy on your face and lavished at the sounds of your titillating moans with his every thrust. Not only did he miss the feeling of your walls tightening around his shaft, he also remembered how badly you used to want him to cum inside you. 
And so, he did just that. At his climax, he released hot spurts of seed into your womb, fulfilling a wish from the past that he used to deprive you of. 
But as the night progressed and the heat of the moment faded, the conversation shifted to a more profound and emotional terrain. Sylus wrestled with the urge to reveal the truth about his true identity—every painful detail and the secrets he kept from you. Yet, he knew that doing so would only complicate matters further and risk causing you more pain. The idea of hurting you again, after such a meaningful connection, was unbearable to him, especially now that you were still fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any moment. 
“Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?” 
“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he pressed, forcing you to believe the narrative with his rueful eyes staring back at you. “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.” 
“Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” He caressed your back as you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”
“Please don’t.” He shook his head, crestfallen as he thought of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.” 
~~
Your relationship with Sylus remained unclear since that night. And it seemed as though the roles had reversed—now he was the one left wondering where he stood in your life. Because on the surface, it did seem like you were willing to work on building a relationship with him again, but every encounter you two had were always physical rather than emotional. 
Sylus found himself at your apartment frequently, three or more times a week, engaging in intense, passionate encounters. He had lost track of how many times you two could do it in a single night, exploring every possible position, in every corner of your home. He had tried his hardest to make you feel like he was the only man who was more familiar with every inch of your body than anyone else. Yet, despite the physical closeness, he sensed that the emotional barriers between you remained intact.
No matter how deeply intertwined your bodies became, the walls around your heart remained firmly in place, and Sylus knew that there was a part of you he still couldn’t reach.
That, and the fact that he was still seeing you interact a little too closely with that doctor from Akso. 
It somehow didn’t surprise you when Sylus’s car showed up outside the hospital to pick you up, and you got on with a guarded look. 
“How’s it for my kitten today?” Sylus asked as he secured your seatbelt, his lips brushing against yours in a quick peck. “You didn’t mention you’d be at the hospital.”
You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Oh, I just... didn’t think I needed to inform you of my whereabouts.”
Dammit. He knew you weren’t officially together, but it hurt more than he cared to admit. And it didn’t help that Sylus’s pride couldn’t naturally take it, so he probed more. “That doctor. He’s not your neurologist, is he? It seems a little inappropriate for him to always be around you like that.”
“Well, I’ve known Zayne for a long time,” you merely replied, eyes focused on the view outside rather than the driver of the car. “I’d also appreciate it if you'd be less territorial over me, Sylus. I know you said we have a history together, but I don’t remember a thing, so… I hope you won’t rush me.” 
The Sylus you knew back then would have been enraged. Who were you to order him around? Who were you to tell him what he should and shouldn’t do over someone he rightfully owned? But he was a changed man now, and it was all because of you. You were the beauty that tamed him into a powerless beast.
“I understand,” Sylus replied, swallowing his pride as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. “I apologize.”
He heard you sigh beside him, and a part of him wondered if it was out of sympathy. But before he could dwell on it, you spoke up, your tone more serious. “I was at the hospital today because I had a pregnancy scare.”
Sylus hit the brakes at the red light a bit too abruptly, his heart racing in excitement. “Are you?”
“No, thank God,” you breathed out in relief. “But... can you please stop doing it inside? I really don’t like it. It’s not smart for me to get pregnant by a man I barely know.”
His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t describe. The old you nearly begged him for a baby so he could be yours forever, but he was aware that this version of you right now was not the same. It never would be, and that was the price he had to pay for love. 
“I won’t do it again.” Once again, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry.” 
You still invited him to sleep at your apartment that night, and your reason being to work on the memories of him you had lost. Time and time again did Sylus tell you it was better you didn’t remember them, but he could also understand your dilemma when you told him that you always felt like a piece of you was missing ever since that “accident”. 
“And this ugly scar on my temple,” you pointed it out, settling into your side of the bed. “What kind of Wanderer did I fight for me to get a traumatic brain injury?”
Sylus placed a tender kiss on your scar. “Perhaps it was a heartless monster more terrifying than a Wanderer.” 
Like me. 
“Oh, well.” You pulled the sheets over your body, suggesting you two would have no action tonight. “Good night, Sylus.” 
“...Sleep tight, kitten.” 
You didn’t need to worry, though, because he wouldn’t have touched you even if you had explicitly asked him to. After hearing your words that afternoon—about not wanting to get pregnant by him and asking him to stop being so territorial—Sylus felt the need to pull back and be more cautious in his actions toward you. Your words had cut deep, but he understood you were only protecting yourself from a man who was, essentially, still a stranger to you.
And despite the sting, he had promised himself that he would be patient for the only woman he cared about.
~~
However, that same night was a different story. 
No, it was actually way past midnight when Sylus woke up from an agonizing scream that pierced the silence of the night, chilling him to the bone. Instinctively, his hand reached out to the side of the bed where you should have been, but the sheets were cold and empty. And then panic gripped him, forcing him to leap out of bed, his mind racing with a single horrifying thought: the protocore.
He darted outside of your bedroom and deeper into your apartment space, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The image of you, eyes wild and frenzied, ravaged by the effects of the protocore, haunted him.
What if it’s happening now? What if I lose her for good?
The horrifying thought of the protocore making you berserk like a wild Wanderer was always there.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw you on the kitchen floor, curled up, your body wracked with sobs. Relief washed over him to have found you, but it was fleeting, replaced by a deeper, more insidious fear. He tried to approach you cautiously, his voice soft as he placed his hands on your shoulders, “Sweetie, are you okay?”
You flinched at his touch, and when you turned to face him, the sight made his blood run cold. Your eyes, usually so warm, were now wide and filled with tears—tears of terror, of anger. And in your trembling hand, you held a knife, its blade gleaming in the low light as you pointed it directly at his throat.
“Don’t come any closer!” you cried, your voice breaking at every word. Sylus froze, his breath catching in his throat as your sudden hostility surprised him. The knife’s tip hovered dangerously close to his skin, but it wasn’t the threat of violence that shook him—it was the raw, unfiltered pain in your eyes.
“Kitten, let’s talk about it calmly.” His voice was laced with cautiousness. 
“Stop calling me that!” You swallowed hard, your grip on the knife tightening. “You! I had a nightmare... about you. But it felt real, like a memory. You were torturing me at your base, laughing... and then, you shot me in the head.”
Sylus’s heart dropped into his stomach at hearing your altered memory. He felt his soul tear apart at the edges as he stared into your tear-streaked face. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real, kitten.”
But you weren’t listening. “But is it also not real? That you…” You uttered each word with a threatening voice, “are the boss of Onychinus?”
The question hit him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words were stuck in his throat and refused to form. He was trapped. The situation felt like a dead end—he could deny that your dream was a real memory, but admitting he was the leader of Onychinus would only validate that lie.
His silence alone was an answer to you. And your expression crumbled into one of betrayal at that. “You lied to me! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”
The anger in your voice enforced the stillness of Sylus’s breath. He knew he had no saving grace from this situation, but still, he took a step closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you—”
“Get out!” you screamed, the knife shaking in your hand. The sight of you so broken, so shattered, tore him apart. “Get the hell out of my sight! I don’t wanna see you ever again, you monster!”
But Sylus couldn’t leave—not like this, not when you were hurting because of him. So in his desperation, he lunged forward, grabbed your wrist, and forced the knife into his own chest. The sharp pain radiated through him as he plunged the blade in and stabbed himself repeatedly, his face twisted in agony, but not from the physical pain. This was nothing compared to the torment of knowing he was the source of your suffering. Again. 
“Even if I can’t die,” he choked out, his voice ragged as he tried to absorb the stinging ache in his chest, “I’ll take all of this pain away from you.”
His own blood soaked his fingers, staining your hands as he released his grip on the knife. It fell on the floor as he stepped back, his heart aching more than his wounds ever could, but those wounds easily healed. The pain of losing you again, on the other hand, would never heal.
He looked at you one last time, seeing his monstrous reflection from your frightened eyes, before turning away. Sylus walked out of the apartment with heavy steps, feeling his soul crushed from your antagonism. He knew he had lost you—perhaps forever—and the realization was more than he could bear.
~~
A haze of cigarette smoke and the clink of glasses filled the air of the bar. Sylus sat alone at the counter, his new glass of whiskey untouched as he stared blankly into the amber liquid. The sting of alcohol was nothing compared to the numbness that had settled in his heart after that agonizing night with you. Every swallow of the hard liquor was a desperate attempt to drown out the torment of recent events, but the pain lingered, and it was damn persistent and unforgiving.
As he poured himself another drink, the muffled sounds of conversation around him blended into a dull roar. That was until a familiar voice cut through the haze—someone he wished he hadn’t come across.
“Sylus?” 
He looked up, squinting against the dim light, to see Diana standing before him. He hadn’t seen him for the past year or so. And surely, her presence was unexpected, but he felt a sudden tinge of irritation at the sight of her. While her, she looked both apprehensive and determined, as if she had just made a hard decision to confront him. 
“H-How have you been?” she asked the question as a conversation starter, but Sylus could see the faint hint of unease in her eyes.
He then straightened up, and his posture became stiff and defensive. “I told you it’s not wise for us to cross paths,” he said curtly, his voice slurred from the alcohol but still holding a note of finality. He didn’t want to engage, not with her, not tonight.
On the one hand, Diana’s eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps. “I… I wanted to say sorry for what happened with Y/N. I didn’t realize how much she meant to you. Xavier… told me everything. About you and her.”
The apology was genuine, but the mention of your name was a fresh wound, and he felt the anger and sadness surge again, bubbling beneath his carefully maintained exterior. He wanted to lash out, to blame her for everything, but he swallowed the words, knowing it wouldn’t change a thing. In the end, this was all his doing and he couldn’t point fingers over the mess that he alone had created.
Sylus tried to stand up, the room spinning slightly as he steadied himself. “I’m leaving.”
But Diana stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to stop him. He simply brushed past her, his movements unsteady but undeniably distancing from her. The desire to remain composed was slipping away, replaced by the harsh reality he faced every day since you were taken from him.
He made his way to the exit, pushing through the bar’s heavy door with a forceful shove. Sylus’s next move was to lean against the wall outside as the cool winter breeze blew on his face. 
“Boss.” Kieran’s voice held a note of concern as he and his twin steadied Sylus by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “We’ll take you home.”
Luke glanced at his brother with a sad glint in his eyes before leading Sylus toward the car. “Maybe it’s time to let her go, boss.”
~~
February nights were the coldest. And it was supposedly the day for lovers, too. 
Unlike the couples that littered the riverside, Sylus stood alone, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. His dark coat offered little protection against the biting wind, but he stayed committed, his gaze fixed on the empty expanse before him. Four hours had passed since he had sent you the message, and each minute he stood there waiting for you felt like an eternity. The biting cold gnawed at him, but he was determined to wait even if he’d end up getting frostbite. It was the least he could do.
The frozen river’s surface glistened with a thousand points of light as the moon cast its silver glow over the landscape. And for the next thirty minutes that passed, he was still alone. 
She won’t be coming, said the voice in his head. Give up. 
As he prepared to leave, the ache of disappointment settled in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, standing cautiously across him, your eyes wide and filled with both curiosity and trepidation. The sight of you, despite waiting in the cold for hours, instantly warmed his freezing body. 
“Thank you for coming.” He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “I won’t keep you long.” 
You maintained your distance, wary of his next move. “Why did you want to meet?” 
With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to peel the scarf from around your neck, and he felt a prick in his heart seeing you flinch. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He waited until you allowed him to proceed, his fingers brushing against your skin in a touch that was both gentle and reverent. You looked at him with confusion, the chilly air fought by the warmth of your breath. Sylus was just carefully replacing the scarf with the necklace he had given you long ago, the red Beryl crystal catching the light and sending soft, radiant glimmers into the night. 
Do you even recognize it? 
“I’m just returning a gift, kitten.”
As he fastened the clasp behind your neck, he pressed a tender kiss to the nape of your neck, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened. That small gesture of his was actually carried by the depth of his affection and regret. And, if you may, it was his silent apology for all that he did to you.
“Sylus…” 
His red eyes shimmered, intensified by the bloodshot whites. Sylus stared at your face with a mixture of love and ruefulness clouding his expression. He was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, with his voice breaking as he feathered the snowflakes that rested on your hair. “Take care of yourself. Always lock your doors at night and stay warm.” He took the scarf Zayne gave you, and pulled out a new one from his coat. It was a silly scarf with kitten prints all over it, that he soon carefully wrapped around your face and neck. “Wear that whenever you can.” 
Your own eyes were large and rimmed with tears as though you were also hurting inside. “Why are you saying this?” you asked, keeping the weakness inside. “You sound like you’re saying goodbye.” 
Sylus’s gaze was suddenly directed back to the river, but it was only because he had to avoid looking at your eyes or he would lose it. “The Association managed to track me here in Linkon and they’re still after me. I just managed to escape, but I can’t stay here,” he explained calmly, “I only came back to this city because of you… But now, I have to disappear, so don’t worry about having me around. I won’t bother you anymore.”
Your eyes widened in shock, and the tears that had been pooling your eyes finally spilled over. “Are you crazy?” you cried, seemingly unable to comprehend the words he was spewing. “You’re leaving me?”
Sylus’s heart broke at the sight of your tears, but he had to restrain any weakness by giving in. Instead, he reached out, and his hand trembled as he wiped a tear from your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.” He wanted to be the first one to say it this time. “Even if you regain all your memories of me—good or bad—I want you to know that I regret every pain I caused you. Even if you hate me, I’ll still love you. Today, tomorrow, and in our next lives.”
Sylus took one last, lingering look at you, his eyes filled with a sorrowful haze that nearly blinded his vision. He turned slowly, walking away from the river’s edge, with each step causing distance from the love he was leaving behind.
And you, you stood there, the necklace around your neck feeling heavy as you watched him disappear into the night. A surge of emotion overwhelmed you, and without thinking, you sprinted towards him. You took quick, long strides just to reach him, pulling him into a tight embrace, and crashing your lips against his in a bittersweet kiss.
Both of you cried as the kiss deepened, and you were encasing each other’s lips in a tight lock. The intensity of your emotions poured out in this poignant, intimate moment. And frankly, Sylus had never been this emotional. No one had ever seen this fragile side of him that he had always kept hidden. After all, what dominant, cruel boss of Onychinus would spill tears over a woman?
But they wouldn’t understand it. They never would. 
When you finally pulled away, your eyes were red and swollen from tears. “Be careful,” you sniffled, barely unable to catch the breath you needed for the next. “Keep in touch if you can. And when I’m ready, I’ll find you.”
Sylus’s eyes were also filled with tears, but he managed a forlorn smile as he nodded. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle despite the heaviness of the moment. “I’ll wait,” he promised softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
“Until we meet again.”
As he stepped back, the distance between you seemed impossibly vast, but the promise in your eyes and the love in his heart made the separation bearable, if only just. And when Sylus turned away, his heart was heavy but full of the hope that one day, you would find each other again. That one day, this distant love would become a cherished memory that you would look back on as you grow old and wrinkled, yet insurmountably happy and content with the life you had lived. With or without him.
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PREVIOUS PART
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stevieschrodinger · 1 year
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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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gabrielleyueerrrrr · 3 months
Text
A theory about Green and Purple's friendship
So, we all know that Green is the closest to Purple in the Colour Gang. He's one of the first to meet Purple (along with Blue) in AVM Ep.9 "The Villagers", the one that appeared to care about Purple the most in Animation vs LoL,
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the one who didn't give up on Purple even though Purple betrayed him and his friends again, and the one who ultimately turned Purple into their ally.
But why? Why is Green so insistent on Purple even when everyone thought Purple was the bad guy?
My theory is that Green saw himself in Purple.
We all know Purple wanted nothing more than to prove themselves to their father Navy and later to the King, which they saw as their parental figure. From trying to obtain the Enderdragon egg to stealing the Minecraft icon, he desperately wanted to appear "strong", "powerful", "competent", so that their parental figures could be proud of them. Even if the cost is their friendship and more importantly, their conscience.
As for Green, although he doesn't have daddy issues like Purple, he also strives to act his best in front of others. He is very competitive, maybe even the most competitive one out of his friends.
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He's also a perfectionist.
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What's more, he is a great show-off,
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and that often came with a price.
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But beneath Green's "cool dude" exterior, he is a soft and gentle stick who cared deeply about his friends,
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and who always saw the best in other people.
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So of course Green is the one who can tell that what Purple appears to be isn't their real self. Beneath their double-crossing, power-hungry facade is a scared kid who just wants to be seen and loved.
When Green comforted Purple on that mountain top in the Note Block Universe and told them to be their true self,
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maybe that is also what he learned by spending time with the Colour Gang too.
Even if you didn't always do the right thing, even if you are not the best at everything you do, even if you are not as cool or as strong as you seem to be, true friends would love you just the same.
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kismetlotts · 6 months
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-`♡´- John Price fingering you in front of the mirror x afab femreader
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cw: mirror kink, “good girl”, reader gets fingered
John Price was a mad man; a fucking machine. Built like a superhero, covered in dirt with that sexy beard of his but god damn you’d let him do the unspeakable to you.
He could fuck for hours, for nights- you swore if he had enough energy he could go on for days. But one thing he struggled to do was finger you.
You felt a bit embarrassed to ask why as you always assured him it felt good but the disgruntled expression and sigh he makes when he pulls out of you made you worry. You began to wonder if it was something wrong with you and that’s the reason why.
In your head it made sense, him making it plainly obvious he didn’t want to do it every-time it was over but your mind always made something up to contradict your theory.
If he hated it so much why did he enjoy eating you out? Why would he throw you in the bed, staring at your pussy hungry before attacking your clit fast and hard like the military captain he is? And if he hated fingering you so much why did he offer?
Why did he do that?
You stretched your legs out under your office chair before packing your bag and leaving work, on your way home. Tonight was the night you were going to ask him, embarrassing or not. You couldn’t let your dwelling and overthinking cluster up your head any longer, it was time.
You opened the gate to your rustic home and headed for the big door. The house you two had bought was quiet old and elegant and you’d loved it so much, decorating the decaying walls and overgrown garden and making it your own. You loved the style and it made you feel cozy, this was your dream house.
The door shut behind you and the farmilliar scent of vanilla candles and firewood cascaded through the walls as the fire cracked beside you. You hung up your coat and dumped your bag on the floor.
“Baby? Where are you?” You called and after hearing a couple strained grunts you heard Price yell back a ‘Here’ from upstairs. Curiosity flooded your mind and you jogged up the stairs and pushed open your bedroom door to see him crouched on the floor, tool kit sprawled behind him and a screw driver in his hand.
“What the fuck is that?” The laughter of your voice falling through as you store at the mirror nailed to the wall, it was huge. Something out of a ballet studio and you turned back to him, heavy breathing and whipping the sweat off of his pink face.
“Thought you’d like it, pretty big though.” Yeah, just a little. Head to toe taking all the room and right in-front of the bed, how amazing. Cant wait to wake up to my own reflection.
“Doesn’t exactly go with the rustic design of the house does it?” But all he did was laugh and pull you closer, giving you a sloppy but loving kiss on the lips as you tried to wriggle away. His hands clasped around you waist and you remembered what you were going to ask him. Your mouth fell ajar but before you could speak he was dragging along the wide wooden chair to sit on before placing it infront of the mirror and take a seat.
“Want to know what it’s for?” He asked, words laced with something you couldn’t put your tongue on but you hesitantly nodded, wondering why he bought this. It must’ve costed a lot, and it was rather beautiful, it was as clear as glass. Why did he get this.
Price smirked letting a deep chuckle through his tight lips before patting his laps for you to sit. You sat down hesitantly and glacéd in the mirror at you two, his hands around your waist, just above your black skirt and eyes locked onto you. His left hand trailed up towards your neck sending tingles down your body and dampening your panties again. His other creeping closer down and rubbed your thigh soothingly.
“When I finger you love, I struggle a lot. I know you notice and I want to let you know why I struggle.” His hand reached your neck just below your chin and he tilted your neck back so your head laid on his strong shoulder, still looking at yourself in the mirror, with him in control.
"I love to see my fingers inside you, your cum gushing out after i finger you, but i also love to see your little face. Your cute little scrunched eyes, mouth wide open out of pleasure.” You couldn’t fight back the small whimper you let out as his hands on your thigh slowly rose higher, slipping comfortably under your skirt.
“But darling i’m getting old now, aren’t I? It’s too hard to look up then down then up- I miss a few things and I don’t like missing.” His seductive grin send pools of lava to your stomach and your thighs tensed under his hands as his thick fingers grazed the soft fabric of your panties. Teasing you and loving every fucking second.
“But fuck, from this angle? I can see all of you, all of you at once. Your breathing, face, pussy, everything and I love it.” You shut your eyes in embarrassment and you felt your face burn while he slid your underwear down slowly and gently tapped against your precious sensitive skin.
Tracing slowly down your wet slit coating himself in your taste. He groaned at the feeling kissing your temple while his finger prodded into your entrance greedily. Next time he will take his time, next time he will have you begging for his fingers. Next time because god he couldn’t wait now.
The thickness of his finger stretched you out slightly as he thrusted it in and out of you, burning your hole slightly as he added another and another. Your moans and cries send sparks to his dick below you and you felt him harden more and more beneath you- he didn’t stop to fuck you though.
“Oh yeah darling look at you, fucking look at yourself.” His other hand stretched to your chin, tilting your face up and through tears you watched yourself be finger fucked by John. Tightening around his hand more and moaning louder as tears rolled down your cheek.
“Baby I’m going to-” You started but he shut you up shushing you quiet with a small kiss and rapid movements. His husky voice demanding you just to let yourself go.
“Come on, that’s it. Just let it all go, cum on my fingers. Good girl, oh my god you’re such a good girl.” As you came, cum squirting out of your abused hole and dripping down his sticky fingers. Your back arched and your legs started to shake and tremble against him and he just smiled. Pulling out of you and holding you for a moment, licking his fingers clean.
“Was that good darling? I loved it. So much better than usually fingering you.” You breathing calmed down slowly as you shakily nodded. John leant over giving you another loving kiss before chuckling.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to calm down and then we’ll go again, yeah?”
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reidswhre · 6 days
Text
spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: it’s silly and fluff
a/n: this is the intro of episode 7 from season 3, i founded it so funny so i made this blurb.
“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hypermatter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of the Earth.” You didn’t exactly know what Reid was trying to explain to Morgan, but he looked cute.
Emily looked at you mockingly.
“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Spencer looked at you.
“But if you look at The New Essential Chronology, there's a test bed prototype for a super laser that's been—” Morgan got up from his seat and headed toward Rossi’s new office.
“Where are you going?” Spencer asked Morgan, confused.
“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan replied, and Reid made a face.
“I was listening to you.” You shrugged.
“I know you were, you always do.” He smiled at you.
“Don’t you want to know about this guy?” Morgan asked as he walked up the stairs.
“I do.” Emily quickly got up from her desk.
“I don’t! Are you kidding? No, no—This is dangerous.” You followed them.
You were starting to panic a little. Not for nothing, but this guy was pretty mysterious, and even though you might sound a bit like a people pleaser, you were dying to make a good impression on Rossi, and if he caught you snooping around his office, you two weren’t going to become friends anytime soon.
“I've got it all memorized. His books, his bio,” Spencer replied to Morgan.
“Yeah, books that sold over a million copies.”
“So?”
“That’s a million reasons not to come back, if you know what I’m saying.” Morgan explained to us.
I mean, of course, he was right. Why would a guy who had already ended his career years ago suddenly come back? He wasn’t going to do it out of kindness. But that wasn’t your problem.
“Huh!” Morgan exclaimed as he entered his office.
“Taupe walls. That’s a negative color.” Emily was analyzing it. “Cold. Distant. You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and a desire to escape from the world.”
“I just figured the guy’s walls would be covered with plaques and commendations,” Morgan continued to Emily.
“Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of past victories. It’s a new chapter for him.”
Spencer and you peeked into the office, you clinging to his arm.
“Whatever happened to the moratorium on intra-team profiling, guys?” Spencer asked the group.
“Come on, Reid. Team? I don’t think this guy knows the meaning of the word.”
“Probably not, but—We shouldn’t be here. What if he sees us?” You were quite scared.
“I don’t think he will, don’t worry.” Spencer took your hand, and you both entered the office.
“I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original maybe, definitely expensive.” Morgan showed us a painting in a frame.
You wrapped your arm around Spencer’s and leaned on his.
“It’s Renaissance art,” you replied to Morgan, looking at the painting in Spencer’s hand.
“If that’s original…” Spencer followed your lead.
“Is it?” Morgan asked.
“It’s kind of hard to tell, I mean, he’s into the classics,” you continued.
“What else?”
“Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption.” Spencer was pondering over the painting.
“I believe in a lot of things.” You heard a voice behind you, and it almost gave you a heart attack.
You lifted your head off Spencer’s arm, stepping away from him entirely. He gave you a puzzled look due to the distance.
“Catholic, yes. Italian American, 52 years old. Strict upbringing? Not so much.”
We shared awkward glances between us. This couldn’t be happening.
“Now the artwork? That’s 15th-century original, it costs more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat, painters will come in and finish tomorrow.” He gave us an ironic smile.
You felt like you were about to die or something.
“Now, if you’re all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us,” he informed us. “Isn’t that how a team works?” This time he looked straight at Morgan.
You quickly ran out of there before the embarrassment swallowed you whole. Spencer followed right behind you.
“Hey! Wait for me.” You heard him behind you.
“Are you kidding me? I told you we shouldn’t have gone in! What a disgrace, I can’t believe it.” You turned to look at him. “What’s he going to think of me?”
“I don’t think he cares that much, really.” He took your hands in an attempt to calm you down.
“How could he not!? We snooped through his stuff! We profiled him! Oh, this is bad!”
Spencer laughed a little at you. “What are you laughing at!?” You frowned.
“I really don’t think it’s that deep, don’t worry.” He gave you a sincere look.
If you thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. He probably wouldn’t even mention it again, and it wasn’t like you did anything serious... at least you hoped so.
“You think so?” You looked back at him.
“Of course!” He smiled at you. “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee before we go to JJ and Hotch.” Spencer gave you a small kiss on the forehead, took your hand, and led you to the kitchen.
a/n: so this is how i was picturing Spencer and reader when they we’re watching the artwork.
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so cute i’m dying!!
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inkeyjay · 8 months
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🩸Blood & Honey 🩸
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With your descent through the layers upon layers of arches and stairs, the forgotten ruins of the city that is Arca begin to hum to an otherworldly song. A choir made of thousands of voices, lily white wings vibrating against each other as they collect the fuits of their labor.
Blood of gods, Ichor filtered from the very veins of mortals, dripping like honey. Tempting to surrounding lips, shuddering with anticipation. To consume is to thrive, may the cost be sweet.
So... The campaing I'm dming for my friends,,, Mystery of Blood and Honey... No longer a mystery. Reveals that had been planned like three years ago coalesced into what have been two sessions full of reveals, old loved (and hated) npcs appearing and a lot of stress and strong emotions. Super glad to have experienced the thrill of leaving clues for the pcs and watching how they fared elaborating theories. I cannot stress enough how fun this was and god, i wish i could share it with y'all sometime in the future in some way. Dnd, am i right?
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vbecker10 · 3 months
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Language (Part 2)
Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell or trick that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.
Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?
A/N: I'm so sorry @soubi001 lol and you know why. I've been kicking this idea around in my head for a while because I'm very aware that I swear way more often than a normal person lol hope you enjoy it 💚
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"I found a few spells I would like to try when we finish eating," he changes the topic a moment later.
"Think one of them will work?" you ask hopefully.
"I certainly hope so," he says. "Of course, I could accidently turn you into a frog if something goes wrong."
"That's not funny," you tell him.
"I wasn't joking," he smirks.
You take a bite of pizza and as you chew, you respond by giving Loki the finger. In turn J.A.R.V.I.S charges you another fifty cents and you roll your eyes.
"Serves you right," he says and you can tell he is trying to sound serious but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "You are quite rude to me when all I am trying to do is be helpful," he places his hand over his heart, pouting to appear hurt by your gesture.
You ball up your napkin, throwing it at him but he deflects it easily back towards you, a smile spreading across the god's face. You stick your tongue out at the prince when the paper ball hits your shoulder and he laughs light heartedly. Loki's hand rests gently on your knee for barely a moment and he removes it almost before your mind can register the action.
He gets up abruptly, clearing his throat and you feel a sinking sensation in your chest at his sudden shift in mood. You had what you imagine is a rare glimpse of Loki's playful, mischievous side and you can't help but wish he wouldn't return to the cold, overly sarcastic demeanor he had when you first knocked on his door. Closing the pizza box, you decide to clean up the table and put the leftovers in Loki's fridge. It's a small but welcome distraction, keeping you from thinking about how much you enjoy Loki's company when he allows himself to relax around you.
"Thank you for the food," he says without looking up from his book. He sits crossed legged on the floor and holds the book a bit closer as his fingers trace the text across the page.
You smile then sit back on the couch, "You're very welcome... and thanks for trying to help me." He nods quietly in response as he continues to read.
Loki stands slowly a few minutes later, his eyes lowered as he reads the book in his hands. He walks towards you with the book still open and you suddenly become nervous as you realize this is actually going to happen. You are actually going to let him put a spell on you.
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"Okay... so what's this supposed to do?" you are almost afraid to ask.
Loki sits next to you and places the open book on the coffee table. "Well, in theory it should-" he starts to explain, his eyes meeting yours as he glances up from the book.
"In theory?" you ask, your voice shaking.
"Yes," he answers seriously. "This is not what the spell was originally intended to do but I should be able to adjust it slightly so that it will fix your issue."
"So... I'm starting to think maybe having someone put a literal spell on me is a really fucking stupid idea," you say and shake your head, ignoring J.A.R.V.I.S.
"I am not just someone," he says, it is clear from his tone he is trying to sound offended but he doesn't hide his smirk as well as he thinks he does.
"Right, you're an actual trickster god," you reply, gesturing towards him. "The title doesn't exactly inspire trust, you know?"
He shrugs, "It's not too late to change your mind and either give up swearing or simply ask for a raise."
You groan and sit back, crossing your arms against your chest, "Just promise me you won't turn me into a frog." His lips curl into a smirk and you sit up, quickly adding, "Or a snake or a bug or anything else not human. Please?"
"I promise you will remain a Midgardian," he says in a sincere voice. His eyes flicker from yours to your hand and his fingers move slightly towards you but he pauses then places his hand on his knee. He shifts a few inches closer to you on the couch but keeps his eyes focused on the open book. "Do you still want me to do this, Y/N?" he asks, glancing back at you.
"Yes," you take a deep breath and nod. "Yea, lets do this. What's the worse that can happen?"
He chuckles and without thinking, you put your hand over his mouth before he can say anything. His eyes widen when your palm touches his lips and for a split second, your brain registers how soft they are. Loki has a look of utter confusion on his face when you remove your hand quickly with a nervous laugh.
"Sorry, I just don't really want to hear all the horrible stuff that might happen if this goes wrong," you tell him, lowering your eyes to avoid looking at him.
"Nothing will go wrong," he promises, touching your arm lightly but he moves his hand the moment you look up. "Are you ready to start?" he asks.
"As ready as I'm gonna be," you tell him with a shrug, feeling slightly more confident in Loki than you had moments earlier.
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He flashes you a small smile then leans forward slightly towards the book, his fingers tracing the lines of text as he mumbles to himself. He nods confidently when he is satisfied with the spell and looks at you. "Stay still," he warns you gently then he holds his open palm inches from your neck. Your heart beats faster as he begins to read the foreign words, his voice just above a whisper. The green glow of his seidr slowly reaches out from his fingertips and you feel it's warmth wrap around your throat loosely. You force yourself to remain perfectly still, keeping your eyes focused on Loki.
When he finishes reading, he closes the book and looks at you. "Care to test it out?" he asks, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice unsuccessfully.
You clear your throat and say, "I hope this *silence* spell worked..." You look at him in shock when your voice goes suddenly silent as you swear. "What the *silence* was that?"
"Interesting," Loki says, opening the book again.
"I really *silence* hate when you say *silence* like that," you tell him, trying not to feel worried as your voice cuts in and out.
"The spell was supposed to block J.A.R.V.I.S from being able to hear you swear but it seems to have silenced your words completely," he explains, running his fingers through his long, dark curls as he leans closer to the open pages. "Ahh..." he nods as he flips the page.
"What the *silence* does that mean?" you look at the page over his shoulder.
"I seem to have misjudged the potency of this part here," he points to a passage from the book that you have no way of understanding. "Still, it seems as if it was successful," he forces a smile as he can tell you are unhappy with the results.
"Successful?" you ask, sitting back you put your hands over your face.
"The computer is not charging you," he reminds you. "Was that not the goal of this whole evening?"
"Yea," you agree. "I guess you're right."
"Than you should be thanking me," Loki smirks proudly. "Feel free to throw in as many compliments as you would like."
You can't help but laugh, "Thank *silence* *silence* *silence* *silence*..." Your heart sinks and you fill with dread as all of your words are soundless but Loki doesn't seem to notice as he closes the book again.
"I am waiting for the flood of complements I am owed and then you are free to leave," he chuckles and you swat his shoulder with the back of your hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and you gesture towards your throat as you open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out.
"Oh, no..." he shakes his head as he realizes what you are trying to tell him. "Okay, don't worry Y/N, I can undo the spell," he assures you as he opens the book. He mumbles under his breath as he flips through the pages quickly and you can only imagine he must be swearing in Asgardian. He finds the page he had been on previously and pulls the book onto his lap.
You tug on the sleeve of his shirt nervously and he looks at you. "I am going to fix it," he promises again, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "I just need a moment to think," he explains and you can't do anything but nod.
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"So that was awful," you laugh nervously a few minutes later when your voice is fully restored. You rub your throat gently and Loki frowns, holding your gaze for only a moment before he looks away.
"I truly am sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I have no idea why that went so wrong," he skims the page again, his fingers comb through his hair as he thinks.
"Do you think it's cause you messed with it too much?" you ask as he closes the book heavily and stands up.
"It may have been," he responds, placing the book in the pile of useless ones. He sighs and looks around at the books still remaining on the shelves.
"Can I ask you something?" you tuck your legs under your body and pick up one of his pillows to hold against your chest. He nods but doesn't face you, his eyes searching for the next solution. "How come you have to alter the spells? Wouldn't it be easier to just use the right type?"
"Ah yes, why didn't I just look in my hundred year old book of spells that deals with artificial intelligence?" he says sarcastically.
"Okay, that's fair," you roll your eyes. "I guess I didn't really think about that part. I just figured... well I'm not really sure how I thought your magic worked honestly."
"No one on the team is concerned with how my spells are created," Loki says over his shoulder then he picks up a thick, leather bound book and quietly adds, "So long as the spells work properly, my magic rarely interests anyone."
"I think it's cause you make it look so natural," you try to explain as you get up and walk towards him. "Like when you are on a mission, you don't sit around a read a ton of books or recite all these spells before doing anything, you just sort of," you wave your hand towards a stack of books and mime moving them to the table, "and stuff happens. Am I making sense?"
He chuckles, "Yes."
"So how do you do it?" you ask.
"Do what?" he looks at you confused.
"Make it look so easy?" you respond with a shrug.
"Roughly nine hundred years of practice," he answers.
"Nine hundred..." you say quietly and he nods. "I forgot you're like a thousand years old."
"One thousand fifty three," he smirks, "And I will assume you forgot because of my stunning good looks."
"You're not unfortunate to look at," you laugh, unable to admit he is completely correct.
"You wound me, truly, Y/N," he shakes his head but can't contain his laughter.
There is a loud knock on Loki's door and you turn towards it but Loki makes no move to answer it. He opens the book in his hand and you shrug then walk to the door.
"What are you doing?" he asks without looking up.
"Answering your door," you tell him. "It's what normal people do when someone knocks."
"I am still dealing with the consequences of the last time I opened my door to someone," he says followed by a heavy sigh but you can tell his annoyance is faked and you fight to hold back a smile.
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"Oh... hello Y/N," Thor says slowly, unable to hide his shock. "What are you doing in my brother's room?"
"Um..." you hadn't thought far enough ahead to come up with an excuse when you opened the door. "We were just- we're hanging out. Do you need him?"
"I was just wondering if he had seen my wallet," Thor says. "Or have you?"
"Brown leather wallet with a big script 'T' embossed on the front and a picture of Jane in the little plastic picture space?" you describe the wallet Loki had given you money from earlier.
"Yes, that's it," he says excitedly.
"No, sorry I haven't seen it," you tell him and instantly have no idea why you lied.
"Oh, okay well if you do, let me know. I had about two hundred dollars in it," he says.
Minus the money Loki already gave me, you think. "Will do Thor and I'll check to see if Loki's seen it," you tell him.
"Thank you, goodnight Y/N," he says as he leaves.
"Your brother is gone," you tell him when you close the door. You notice Loki is now sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the stack of books with one open on his lap.
Loki nods in response, his eyes scanning the open pages in front of him.
"He was looking for his wallet but I told him neither of us had seen it," you inform him.
"Mmhmm," he mumbles and nods again.
"Thor asked why I was here so late so I told him we've been secretly dating for months and we're madly in love," you say as you walk closer to the prince.
Again, Loki nods slowly, turning the page he hums, "Mmhm."
"I told him you are a really good kisser but you never know what to do with your hands," you smile as you stand right behind him.
Loki turns the next page and without looking up says, "I know exactly what to do with my hands."
"Oh-" you say in surprise. "You were listening to me."
"Yes," he chuckles. "I can read and listen to you lie at the same time."
"Right well..." you fidget with your fingers and try to think of something to say.
"Why are you standing so close to me?" he says finally looking up to see you reading over his shoulder.
You take a large step back and giggle nervously, "Sorry. I- Umm... Did you find anything useful?"
"Possibly," he says as he gets up.
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morlock-holmes · 7 months
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I often see people talking about how capitalism is great because it's the best way to get people what they need.
But, okay, so like in a Capitalist free market, supply and demand are always going to be somewhat divorced from need for as long as labor itself is subject to supply and demand, right?
I mean, am I crazy here? This seems inevitable to me but a lot of advocates for capitalism act like it isn't true for reasons I can't understand.
Like, I don't make much money, because I do unskilled work. Unskilled work is work where you can train the vast majority of people to be competent at the job within a few days (As opposed to, say, a neurosurgeon, who needs more than 18 hours of training shifts). This means that the supply of labor is high even relative to large demand, which means that in turn the price at which I can sell my labor is low.
What sort of makes me itch is that if I phrase things like that without any political agenda, most evangelists for capitalism will say, "Yeah, broadly you're exactly right."
Okay, but that means that if money is a signal of "need", then I have less ability to signal need than a skilled worker.
Suppose me and Jeff Bezos both get the same kind of cancer, and we both have the same odds of survivability from the same treatment. The treatment costs one million dollars.
Are we to say that the fact that I don't have one million dollars indicates that I need cancer treatment less than Jeff Bezos, who would pay without thinking?
That's a completely perverse definition of what it means to need things!
The only way to get out of that would be to advocate for a radical blank slate theory, in which every single person is equally capable of doing a high skilled job, and has consciously chosen not to do so.
This is just, like, obviously not the case. Like, at the very least you have to deal with unmedicated schizophrenics, people with learning disabilities, people getting chemotherapy or other medical treatments that make them too weak to work, and furthermore a lot of people who are the most "rah rah" for capitalism are also somehow the least inclined towards blank slate theory, and are often advocates of fairly rigid views of human potential who are happy to argue that some people are just incapable of doing skilled work.
But like... Because of how labor works Capitalism is going to be not very good at fulfilling the needs of unskilled workers, even if the market is otherwise working in a very idealized and efficient fashion, let alone the world we actually have with things like inherited wealth.
Now, I would argue that capitalism can be bad at fulfilling the needs of low-skill workers even when society is producing enough surplus that it is possible to fulfill their needs.
PS - This doesn't mean that supply and demand are entirely unmoored from human desire either, that's not what I'm arguing.
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