#opus replies

[swaps55]

Hi Swaps!!!! What's your favorite canon mshenko scene in the trilogy? Do you plan on including it/adapting it in Opus for Sam and Kaidan, or have you already written it? I think my favorite scene of theirs is the first hospital conversation in ME3. There's so much tension and regret, yet poorly-concealed fondness and budding hope that it makes me scream every time.

Thanks for being so awesome. Looking forward to the next chapter!

That hospital conversation is wonderful. I live for the 'are you flirting with me?' banter. That budding hope, as you so aptly described it, is just beautiful.

Ahh, this is a fun question. My favorite scene is probably the Apollo date - the original, unmodded one. As someone who identifies as demisexual it's an incredible thing to hear one of your favorite characters utter these lines:

"We've been friends a long time Shepard. Have you ever known me to be with anyone? Think I'm just...choosy or patient? Maybe what I've never found, what I want, is something deeper with someone I already...care about."

There are many reasons I love their relationship, but if I had to choose one, it's those lines. Falling for someone who already means the world to you is the only way I understand how to do it.

Shepard's own realization in that scene is also just magic to me.

The irony, of course, is that this scene won't be in Opus. There's a likliehood they don't go to Apollos for any reason at all. But I like to think the entirety of Opus is essentially a love letter to that scene.

Now, the runner-up favorite is probably the aftermath of Mars, from carrying Kaidan onto the ship to Liara's desperate, "We have to leave the Sol system," while Shepard stands, frozen with inaction perhaps for the first time in his life.

That WILL be in Opus, and it will be the spot I'll finally get to use a line of dialogue I've had written for several years and am DYING to get to. :)

[pinkelotjeart]

Seeing this post make the rounds on Twitter, AND DO I GOT THE VIDEO ESSAY FOR YOU. Shameless self promo, I’m not THAT harsh on the fandom, but I think I give a pretty good overview

[izutsoupmi]

I really really want a chapter of Momo & Utena sitting down somewhere and ranting at each other about magical girls. It would bring them enrichment and also end with one of them dead.

You would think that that's the perfect moment for Momo to slip and spill the beans on an identity or two, but you would be underestimating her integrity not only as a part of this masquerade but also as a sicko

[carrinth]

Hi, I just wanted to tell you that your fan art and fan comics have sparked my own creativity. I've never been motivated to do art or to write for a fandom. But your content, specifically caf crawling, gave me an itch that needed to be scratch.

So this is less an ask and more just appreciation and thank you. I hope life finds you well.

🥰

The greatest praise is me infecting ahem I mean inspiring another fellow to draw/write! ^_^

Be inspired! Please go ahead and create fanart/fanfic of my fanart! Or make your own stuff! Fan-ception! Go forth and create glorious wonders that make you snicker to yourself in glee!

ヾ(•ω•`)o

[attroxx]

❛ @kckuhaku said . . . ❛ you frustrate me incredibly. ❜ to sylus ❜

𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙄𝙍𝙎𝙏 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙃𝙀'𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝘿𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘼𝘽𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙔 𝘾𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙍. still, her tone isn't as serious as the comment alludes. pulling down the brim of his hat he chuckles, ruby eyes peaking through strands of white hair. linkon isn't exactly the place the leader of onychinus should be spending his time. but when his favorite hunter needs his help, who is he to say no ? she'd never ask such a thing if she wasn't in desperate need, her last lifeline. he was going to enjoy this as much as possible. standing on the busy sidewalk he notes her nervous glances, clearly uncomfortable with the crowds that are forming. it's past time for people to be getting off work and the streets are filled with people of all walks of life, moving past them with ease. they pay little mind to them but clearly it's bothering her. his smile fades, hand reaching out to take hers. in silence he guides her toward the entrance to a park, far more spacious and busy. this seems to ease her nerves and sylus sighs.

❛ you act as though this is my first time wearing this disguise . . . it worked before, did it not ? ❜ but her annoyed glare says more than words can and he offers a somewhat lopsided grin. ❛ keep making that face and people will think i'm your awful, no good boyfriend. ❜ they're dressed down, sylus in a leather jacket and dark jeans, forfeiting his nice suits and sweaters for this occasion. an arm snakes around her shoulder, his grip loose. easily he pulls the hunter into his side, carmine gaze surveying the area.

❛ nothings going to happen, understand ? that i can promise you. ❜

hero x villain . . . accepting.

[bejeweledmp3]

no better sensation in the whole entire world than reading what you wrote in a haze and finding out that it's actually like. good. like tf who wrote this

[sadmages]

'm sure i've said this before but as someone who hasn't been actively into tma for a long time, i just went and watched your curses animatic (which i was *obsessed* with during the last leg of s5) and it felt like coming home. jon & martin's hug in 170, the singular frame of simon fairchild, basira's little walk cycle… i love them all so much. thank you :]

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 that's so sweet thank youuuuuuuu???? Honestly I'm still super happy with it so this is lovely to hear <3

[leavingautumn13]

Biker Maxie and the Realistic Pokemon.

oh hell yes, i haven't even drawn max with his bike yet so i'm so glad people have noticed that he rides one. stoked as all get out for that answer, thank you!

i need to do realistic pokemon more--i've kind of fallen off the wagon as far as timely replies to asks go, haven't i? i promise i'm going to finish them all.

[spacedlexi]

listen not only was it an insta-follow for all your WDTG sapphic art…but if this farming game takes off and you need a project manager…hello

you guys are making me feel like my little dream concept might one day really be reality 😭💕 i definitely need to pick it back up again i havent really touched it in like a year..

[humanjarvis]

tantrum

synopsis: what makes sylus snap?

tags: fluff, sylus is tired and grumpy bc he misses you, he obliterates his phone with his evol, sunshine reader probably, cartoonish luke and kieran appearance (sorry boys) word count: 842

a/n: after that magnum opus line i really wanted to see sylus throw a tantrum and i kept mulling over what would actually make him do that because i can’t see him doing anything much worse than this. i think he’d find Actual grown man tantrums lame. anyway i don’t like this and will maybe delete? nvm but i had the writing urge so i sacrificed this concept from my wips. 

When you arrived at the base after your three-week business trip, your long-awaited homecoming was…tame, to say the least. You’d been expecting a teasing “How nice of you to join us, sweetie,” or a cocky yet vulnerable “I was beginning to think you’d run away.” But once you’d stepped through the front door, Sylus had barely said a word. A soft “Welcome home” and a kiss on the forehead, and before you knew it, you were cradled in his arms as he carried you to his office.

He’d sat you both down in his leather armchair, making you face him in a straddle. His tired eyes had searched yours, and a moment later, he’d buried his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“I missed you,” you’d murmured into his ear, pressing a kiss to his hair. With a quiet groan, he’d tightened his grip on your hips and nuzzled into you even deeper.

That’d been 15 minutes ago. Basking in the comfortable silence, you’d traded kisses all the while—yours on his hair, his on your neck. 

But suddenly, a low buzzing noise cuts your reunion short: his phone is ringing.

When he makes no effort to answer, still breathing heavily in your embrace, you twist in his arms and accept the call before he can protest. 

A familiar voice crackles over the line. “Boss?” Kieran asks. “Next meeting’s in 10. The one about those stolen shipments from Linkon—we’ve been waiting to hear back for months. You coming?”

Sylus doesn’t answer.

“…Boss?” Kieran repeats. “Boss, you there? You oka—”

Red and black mist shreds the phone into pieces. 

“Sylus!” you yelp, jumping in his lap. “What’d you do that for? He’ll probably be worried. And how will I text you now?”

You pout up at him, and as you study his chronically calm expression, you see something unusual: Sylus’s eye twitches. Just for a millisecond, only moving a millimeter, but you catch it.

“I’ll have a new one delivered tomorrow. As for the meeting, I’ll stay here,” he says lightly, a tight, closed-lip smile on his face.

“But Kieran said it was important,” you reply in confusion. “Why don’t you want to go? Are you feeling sick?” you frown, starting to lift off of him.

“No,” comes his too-quick reply. “It’s just…the twins can go in my stead,” he decides simply, moving to lean into you again.

But before he can move an inch, a rhythmic sequence of knocks sounds at the door.

“Come in!” you chirp happily, too excited to see the faces you’d missed the last few weeks to notice Sylus stiffening under you.

Immediately, the door swings open, revealing two masked figures. 

“Hi Luke, hi Kieran!” you beam, and they wave back at you eagerly.

“Long time no see,” Kieran begins. “Boss, did you lose signal or something? I tried calling you about the meeting, but I think it disconnected. Anyway, we’re about to head down and—”

“Cancel it,” a frustrated growl rings out.

You all freeze.

Somehow, you’d been too wrapped up in your excitement to feel Sylus's body shaking—no, quaking—beneath you.

“W-what? But they’re already here!” Luke sputters.

“Cancel. It.” Sylus grits out the words as if holding back a snarl, and the power in his voice leaves no room for argument. 

“O…kay,” the boys say in unison, and as they back away slowly, you shoot them a sympathetic look.

Red tendrils wrench the door shut behind them, and when you’re alone once more, it’s like the man under you deflates.

His head returns to the crevice of your neck with a soft but unceremonious thud, and his deep exhales and burning hot skin tell you he’s trying to calm himself down. 

Uncertain and a little amazed—you’d never seen him lose his composure—you give his cheek a gentle poke. “Sylus,” you whisper. Nothing. 

“Psst. Sylus,” you try again, and there’s some force behind your poke this time. With bated breath, you watch as your finger sinks into the space under his cheekbone, sighing in relief when the corner of his mouth twitches upwards. 

Lifting his head up to make eye contact, you smile at him softly. “Hi.”

“…Hi,” he rumbles, and as his crimson gaze softens, the remaining annoyance dissolves from his face.

“Are you upset?” you prod gently. 

A brazen scoff precedes the dry chuckles that fall from his lips. “And what makes you say that, kitten?”

A squint and a slight tilt of your head is all it takes. 

“I haven’t had you to myself in a while,” he begins cautiously. “Three weeks is…a long time. The longest we’ve been apart. And then the moment I have you in my arms, well…” he trails off, gesturing to the shards of phone on the table. “I just want to enjoy you right now. Undisturbed.”

“Oh, I see,” you coo, cupping his face in your hands. “Is this your way of saying you missed me too?” you quirk a brow.

“Yes,” he responds through squished cheeks, honest and unabashed. “Now, won’t you stay with me like this for a little longer?”

[swaps55]

Ok ok feelings question for you: what's something you didn't expect Sam to struggle with after being brought back that he's having a really hard time with?

OH. This is excellent.

Okay. So. I thought Sam's biggest hangup was going to be about the loss of bodily autonomy. Being brought back without his consent. His body being altered without his consent. I thought he was going to be suicidal over it. He will end things on his terms. And that that line of thinking is why he works for Cerberus and takes on the suicide mission, because going through the Omega 4 would give him some semblance of control back over his life, even if that just meant getting to decide how it ended.

I was not wrong about his struggle with bodily autonomy. It's a huge struggle. But it is not the primary struggle. It's third on the list. Two other things that I didn't realize were so important to him are now obviously, clearly the things he is most distressed by.

(under a cut, as this is about to be a big focus of Mezzo)

Sam Shepard, the child who buried a father without a body because no one looked for one, swore to his found family that he would come for them no matter what. They would never go unfound if they were in trouble, because he was never going to let what happened to his father happen again. And then...no one looked for him. He is just starting to learn how angry he is about it.

He broke his promise to Aslany. There is one reason and one reason alone he is sticking with Cerberus, and it's to find Kara Pendergrass. Nothing. No one. Will sway him from this one goal. He is going to make good on his promise or die trying. Maybe they didn't come for him, but he will come for her. I don't think he can even really begin to wrap his head around what he's going to do about Horizon, how to salvage his life, or what home he has left. Every fiber of his being is focused on getting to Kara. He has to fix that before he can fix any of the rest of it.

These two things reframed how I saw a lot of Sam's relationships in Mezzo, especially Liara.

[oflolth]

‘he’s short and polite and incredibly helpful.’ from bevika. for sen. about bongle.

" your mum's short, polite, and incredibly helpful. "

[yeowangies]

rereading chapter 1 of close encounter got me feeling like 🥵🔥 omg raditz with his dirty talk fucking us in the middle of nowhere… he’s so cocky i love him <3

My brain was so big when I wrote that 🔥

I don't think I will ever write anything that good, that whole fic just felt right for him, he just looks like he'd be into dirty talking and casually fucking someone in the middle of an open field lmao he deserves it tbh, he's so gorgeous 💖

[randomnameless]

I mean… fire emblem shouldn't be taking in consideration when making points about representing real world issues or using it as a crutch for sociopolitical arguments irl. One of the best examples in this franchise of "culture bias" and "covet bigotry" is Fates, where Hoshido is too pure, too good, and Nohr is the bad, bad, evil barbaric nation. And this goes so far as to make birthright's story a more watered down version of blue units vs red units story from shadow dragon.

In 3H now the good, pure nation is Fodlan, and those who surround it are either filler to make the worldmap look prettier, or barbarians that like to hunt the good guys for sport (Almyra and Sreng, and possibly Dagda), with Brigid being a repetition of the noble savage trope. Just bc there's a poc guy that wants to unite people and get rid of prejudice in story, doesn't mean that the developpers agree to that or support that.

(Also, let's not talk about Hopes and how Claude's altruistic dream turns out to be unifying two different nations and make the cohabit by force with him as sole leader of both. AKA the typical fire emblem trope of uniting different countries under one ruler, something that's not progressive in the slightest)

Mmh,

Speaking on eggshells here because Fates isn't really my area of expertise, but basically, iirc you can thank Pat for scrubbing the worst of Hoshido!

Fates' best route is Revelation (rip izana) where both countries accept to set aside their differences to work together, meaning that, obviously, Hoshido wasn't only "blue unit land" against Nohr's "red units".

Even through Birthrout, you can catch here'n'there, even in the Pat version!, how Hoshido isn't roses'n'daisies, it's the land where Mikoto takes her niece "hostage" ffs as a measure against Corn's kidnapping (you can't tell me she never guessed Azura was Arete's kid!), where Ryoma (idk if you were the same anon as back then?) as the crown prince ignores the plight of the nohrians and why they were attacking Hoshido because life in Nohr sucks and they're starving (idk if, much like the Leonster/Thracia conflict, Hoshido refused to trade with them and let them starve instead), the fuckery with Mokushu and Shura's backstory, or Hoshido being Misogyny Land (tm).

Heck Birthrout has you march on Nohr's capital city iirc, and fight in the streets - it's in Birthrout that Corn's obsession with taking revenge/defeating Garon leads to Elise' death - so it's not the the "blue unit waltz on red unit lands, routs the enemy and calls a day".

So I don't think the Fates writers really wanted to push the "pure unproblematic land" card with Hoshido compared to Nohr, but rather depict them as both flawed - in different ways - and needing to work together.

Now, I wouldn't say the nations of Fodlan are good compared to the rest of the filler nations that make up this verse's world - after all it's Adrestia who starts hostilities against Dagda'n'Brigid and Adrestia who most recently flattened Brigid and made it its vassal! - but in a sense you're right calling them filler, the FE series in general don't spend a lot of time to depict nations in general, they're just "the place character X is from" and for all of its, hm, reknown writting, Fodlan is following the trend, Albinea is no less different than Cheve (wait, we have one map set in Cheve! kill that) so bar flavor text, they're effectively just "filler".

I disagree about Sreng and Almyra being filler though, if Sreng could be seen as a ref to the Thracia situation or Norh/Hoshido fight for ressources, Almyra?

Is basically Verdane all over again - with the dubious honor of having a Verdanite Lord who, unlike Jamke has some relevance to the plot bar his introduction, but most important, seems to appreciate and want to emulate/import the values/methods of his country to the cast/main plot.

Can you imagine FE4 where Jamke suggests to kidnap Deevtar to seduce lure Andrei in a trap and rekt him?

Of course not.

Just bc there's a poc guy that wants to unite people and get rid of prejudice in story, doesn't mean that the developpers agree to that or support that.

I guess they agreed with the "get rid of prejudice without dealing with the dragon in the room" idea, but the main issue I mentionned and talked about in the other anon reply was the how, and what, doylist wise, it conveys.

"I'll unite people and get rid of prejudice by busting open your country to my people who are as prejudiced as you supposedly are, and I will bring you new values"

That's... not a good way to bring people together lol.

Even in FE16 I found Claude and Almyra's writing a bit odd : why asking Timmy first to stop shunning Bob when Timmy started to avoid Bob because Bob keeps on stealing his lunch money? Shouldn't you ask Bob first to, uh, not be an ass?

In Nopes?

Bob ruins Timmy's house, hits Timmy's toddler sister in the face and still steals his lunch money - but now, Bob has the nerve to tell Timmy that he's doing this to "help" him.

Also, let's not talk about Hopes and how Claude's altruistic dream turns out to be unifying two different nations and make the cohabit by force with him as sole leader of both. AKA the typical fire emblem trope of uniting different countries under one ruler, something that's not progressive in the slightest

Hmmm,

I don't know if you played the older games (FE1 to FE10), but as far as I remember, bar Archanea verse, we have different rulers for each countries and the world is never an unified entity -

And even then, Marth doesn't unify the world by making people "cohabit by force", as forced as it is, everyone gives him their crown.

Sanaki doesn't tell Elincia to suck it as she annexes Crimea in FE10, ditto with Innes and Joshua, or Ced and Ares in Jugdral... I can see Leif's unification of Thracia falling under that criteria, but even then, it's not so much by force than Travant making suicide by cop because he wanted the peninsula to be united and understood he couldn't be the one to do it.

Uniting the continent by force is, on the contrary, what red emperors do, and in traditional FE games, red emperors are defeated.

To return to your main point :

I mean… fire emblem shouldn't be taking in consideration when making points about representing real world issues or using it as a crutch for sociopolitical arguments irl.

Of course, and I totally agree!

The FE series has always been, as its core, a series where a "rightful ruler" returns home to rule "rightfuly" and better than its predecessors, by acknowledging what they did wrong and what they can do now.

That being said, a game is never written in a vacuum : that's the doylist side of various discussions : "What were the devs thinking, was what their reasoning when they decided to make the game this way?"

In 2004, real world persons believed that putting Devdan in their game was okay.

You can give them some flak because different cultural references between Japan and the US world (hell, western world at this rate because damn if Devdan hit "international" racist stereotypes boxes!) - and yet, can you really suppose the devs wouldn't have known, in 2004, that those stereotypes are harmful to real life people and Devdan was basically an insult?

But Devdan was just a living (as much as a fictional character can be alive, but you catch my drift lol) stereotype, the issue was just with Devdan existing.

It was 2004, 15 years later, we expect of IS - not your backwater company! - to never ever fall in the same pits, right?

(well, we had FE13 with the Feroxi main characters who love to fight being dark skinned... so the Devdan dev might still have been there :/ )

FE Fodlan, let it be for design or even names, took some inspiration from RL (it was funny upon release to catch all those links and nods!), and while i appreciated the aesthetic, it was bound to create another "Devdan" issue.

You have Almyra, designed with several RL inspirations (they weren't being subtle with Claude's battalion called the Immortals lol), from design (Claude's clothes and braids!) to units (mounted archers!) to, well, names.

Okay, in itself, it's nothing as insulting as Devdan's existence. But taken with the context?

The devs wrote that Fodlan's aesthetic was supposed to be the Age of Discoveries (1500s and onwards?) so yes, during that Age, you had people who were prejudiced as fuck against people from other lands/different cultures.

But in 2019, we know that those prejudices were full of shit, and either fueled by ignorance, or just, the need to find a good "excuse" to get new lands/manpower/ressources.

Maybe the devs wanted to showcase this part of history : depict the characters being prejudiced against "foreigners" and have them later learn that their prejudice was unfounded !

But... they took the inverse path

Hilda's racist stereotypes? They're shown to be....

True through both games!

As you put it, Almyra are the "barbarians" who : attack the land the characters are from when they're at their weakest, for no reason than to get a good fight - even if it means dying which in turns create several orphans they don't give a fuck about - pillage and "rampage" in cities, let their allies die after accepting a "mutual support" alliance with them, and ultimately rave and scream at their "outdated" values and how you're going to bring them yours.

"You see those people who were derided as savages and barbarians back then in RL - and still are in some parts of the world because the early 2000s happened and in general because racism exists? - Well I'm going to base my fantasy "token barbarian country who is untrustworthy and backstabs everyone" based on them!"

:/

I know you can't compare tomatoes to watermelons, but the Baten Kaitos franchise also has a nation who's, more or less, full of assholes, racists and imperialist pieces of shit. But the devs in those games designed each island/country from scratch, there is no nation that immediately calls back to "RL country X or culture Y"!

you can make a farfetched point about the people wearing ceremonial masks and having totems being a mix of several RL inspirations or at least being a call back to them... but they're part of the most OP people of that universe!

So why? Why, doylist wise, FE Fodlan designed with care - you can't tell me those costumes and outfits were designed in 10 minutes! - Almyra and its characters... only to have them act out as what an english book from the 1780s depicted "oriental" people ?

Unlike Devdan, the racism doesn't ooze out from the way the characters/country was designed, but what role they fit in the story.

It's not a sociopolitical commentary or representing real world but more like another jab at IS for being as prejudiced against non western/japanese cultures and civilisations as they were when FE4 was released, which is problematic in 2019/2022.

(and then you have Square Enix giving us Hyzante in Triangle Strategy, which is even more in your face with the dubious parallels)

[sylvieisoffline]

Steamy Interrogation

word count: 3k words

tags: 🔞 Explicit sexual content / NSFW (18+) MDNI! | Slight Gunplay (used as a prop)| Dubcon | Improper Use of Evol | Power Imbalance | Mild Objectification | Overstimulation

Please only consume what you can handle.

note: Aaaand I'm back with another Sylus fic! I swear I have the other LIs in my drafts, it's just that I'm so inspired doing Sylus' ones first haha. Have y'all seen Magnum Opus? It's soooo good and I'm so satisfied with how they gave us a peek into sylusmc's dynamic in a free 5-Star Card. Hope you enjoy this one and please let me know in the comments what you'd like to read from me next. divider by: @cafekitsune

You text Kieran after a particularly arduous mission, asking if you could use the hot tub on their penthouse again. You were already in front of the unit but insisted on waiting for his reply before you go in.

It had been a sort of an after-mission ritual. When after one mission had you very sore and your gym buddy / best friend Kieran started offering access to one of his brother's places. You were reluctant at first, initially overcome with embarrassment with the idea of taking baths on another person's place. Someone you haven't met moreso.

"My brother doesn't stay there anyway. He just bought the place 'cause it looked nice and wanted to have someplace to stay whenever he's here in Linkon—which he rarely does now by the way. Even Luke is sulking with how busy he's become that he doesn't even visit now."

You agreed then, asking him, like, ten more times after that even if he kept reassuring you that it was fine.

You were pulled back to reality when your phone pinged with a new notification.

“Sure, left the doors open. Make yourself at home ;)”

You thanked him, entering the unit and depositing your stuff on one of the couches. The place is quiet—sunlight slicing through the tall glass windows, steam already curling from the water’s surface. You strip without much thought and slip into the heat, letting it swallow the tension in your shoulders. After a while, you climb out and sit at the edge, towel draped lazily across your lap as you dry your hair.

That’s when you hear the bathroom door open.

Heavy, deliberate steps echo into the space, followed by the unmistakable sound of a safety catch clicking off.

“Don’t move.”

You freeze.

Your breath catches as you look up—and see him.

Not Kieran.

Someone else. Taller. Sharper.

Ruby eyes locked on you, gun aimed steady and unshaking.

“Who the hell are you?” “I—I thought this place was empty,” you stammer, arms instinctively tightening around your towel. “Hands where I can see them,” he says coldly.

You raise your arms slowly. The towel lifts with you, but slips slightly—your bare body catching in the low light.

His right eye glows as he's scrutinizing but his expression doesn’t change. You can't help but marvel at the sight.

You momentarily hope that he doesn't sense the ugly feeling other than fear simmering in your system after being entranced in his eyes like that.

“Drop it.” “What?” “The towel.”

You hesitate. But he doesn’t lower the gun.

Your fingers loosen, the towel falls in a soft heap by your feet. You stand there, completely bare under his gaze.

“Turn around,” he commands.

You swallow hard and obey.

Behind you, the silence stretches—then breaks.

You hear the rustling of clothes. Heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled. Something heavy hits the floor as goosebumps crawl through your skin.

You hear footsteps again—bare this time. He comes closer.

The cold press of the barrel nudges the small of your back.

“Move.”

You step forward, slowly, heart racing, body burning with both dread and something else.

He deliberately walks behind you, still holding the gun to the small of your back while nearing the tub. You hesitantly dip yourself back in the bubbling water and hear him follow suit.

The soft click of metal resounds in the bathroom as he sets the gun down on the ledge. Then, you hear something unfamiliar—an electric hum, faint and low. A red current crawls up your limbs before you can react.

You gasp.

Your wrists are yanked back behind you—locked in place. Your ankles drawn together, suspended in a precise tension as your body floats slightly above the water’s surface.

“What—what is this—?” “It's my evol, miss.” he murmurs, voice low and unreadable.

You struggle, but his Evol holds firm.

Then suddenly—he’s behind you.

You feel him.

The weight of his chest just barely grazing your back, his breath curling against your ear, and lower still—the unmistakable, thick heat resting against the dip of your ass, barely sheathed by the water. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t truly touched you, but your body reacts anyway—muscles twitching, skin hypersensitive, breath stuttering.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says, and this time, his hand grips your jaw, tilting your head just enough to expose your throat. “Let me ask again—why are you here?”

“I—I didn’t know—Kieran said—”

The second his name leaves your lips, the man scoffs.

“Kieran.” His voice dips, a bitter curl at the edge. “Of course.”

The tension in the air shifts—something sharper than suspicion settling between you.

He clicks his tongue, almost amused. His hand leaves your jaw, his breath brushing your neck as he trails his lips along your skin—just barely grazing, barely touching. Then, he parts his lips and nips.

A sharp little bite just beneath your ear.

You gasp, your hips twitching again despite how sensitive you already are.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He breaths,“Why you’re shaking.”

Another nip—this time lower, right at the curve of your throat, then down along your collarbone. Each bite is purposeful, not deep enough to bruise but firm enough to sting just slightly, a wicked contrast to the warm water sloshing around your body.

His hands slide up, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over your nipples before he skirts around to let his mouth follow. His teeth scrape one, then he sucks it into his mouth with slow, deliberate pressure.

You arch into him with a choked whimper, the mix of pain and heat making your thighs tense under the surface.

“Why you’re so fucking wet.”

Heat sears through you, your body betraying you with another twitch. Your lips part to deny it, but he’s already moved.

His tongue circles your nipple again, slow and wet, before he switches to the other. His Evol tugs your arms tighter behind your back, just enough to make your chest arch out toward him—putting everything on display, just how he wants it.

“Look at you,” he purrs, mouth trailing back up to your throat. “Bound, dripping, squirming…All from a little teasing.”

Another sharp bite at the side of your neck makes you moan, your head falling against his shoulder. He moves back to the spot behind you as he repositions your body to not sink further into the tub. He chuckles low in his chest, the water rippling as his hand disappears beneath the surface, his fingers ghosting over your folds—barely a touch, but enough to make you squirm.

One slow stroke.

Another.

You gasp, your knees buckling in the water, but the Evol keeps you suspended, helpless.

“Sensitive,” he notes, fingers teasing your bud. “How convenient.”

You barely register the meaning before his fingers press more firmly against you, slipping between your folds. You jolt. Your Evol-bound wrists twitch, but the restraints hold firm. His thumb brushes your clit, expertly timed with another push—your body jerking as sparks shoot up your spine. You cry out, unable to contain the sound this time, trembling violently in his grip.

“Interesting,” he muses, stroking once. Twice. A slow, torturous pace. “You’re not denying it.”

A humiliated moan leaves your throat, and he chuckles—a deep, quiet sound that makes your stomach twist.

“Too easy,” he murmurs. “Is that all it takes?”

A slow drag of his fingers up and down. Dipping inside, teasing at your entrance but not pushing in anymore. His thumb brushes your clit in the lightest touch, barely a graze, but it still sends a violent tremor through you.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan.

“Don’t be shy now.” His free hand grips your chin, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I want to hear you.”

He presses his thumb down fully this time, circling once—slow, precise, devastating. You scream, hips jerking into his touch, body desperate for friction.

“That’s better,” he murmurs, dragging his lips against the shell of your ear. “So desperate. Maybe I should just leave you like this. Struggling. Needy.”

The thought makes you whine. Your fingers flex uselessly, your ankles twitching against the unrelenting grip of his Evol.

“Or maybe,” he breathes, “I should push you a little further.”

You barely have time to process the words before he thrusts two fingers inside you.

A cry rips from your throat, your body clenching down instinctively around the sudden stretch.

He hums. “Tight.” Another stroke, deeper this time, his fingers curling just right. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

You shake your head desperately. “N-no—”

“Liar.”

A sharp thrust. Another. His pace is still measured, still controlled, but every movement is meant to unravel you, to keep you right at the edge.

And it’s working.

Your thighs tremble, the pressure in your core winding tight, pleasure building so fast it’s nearly unbearable. Your breathing turns ragged, broken moans slipping past your lips.

“You gonna cum already?” he taunts, his fingers pressing deep, thumb rolling slow, teasing circles against your clit. “So quick. Is that all it takes?”

You shake your head again, but your body betrays you—the telltale tension coiling impossibly tight.

“Come for me.” His voice drops to a whisper, dark and commanding.

“Now.”

And you do.

Your body jerks violently against the restraints, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you convulse around his fingers.

But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers keep moving, prolonging every aftershock, pushing you straight into overstimulation. Your legs shake, another cry spilling from your lips.

"S-sir, 's too much. Pleas—"

“Too much?” he purrs, amused. “You sure?”

He finally withdraws his fingers—only to drag them up, pressing them against your lips.

“Open.”

You hesitate, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for refusal. You part your lips, your own taste spreading over your tongue as he pushes his fingers in.

“Good girl.”

Then—he shifts.

The water moves as he steps even closer, his Evol releasing your legs just enough for you to feel him lining up against you. You choke back a sob, realization dawning through the pleasure-drunk haze.

“You already took my fingers so well,” he breathes, his cock pressing against your entrance now, thick and hard. “Let’s see how much more you can handle."

When he finally presses himself against you again—thick, hard, ready—you’re already dripping around nothing.

“You’re going to take every inch,” he says lowly. “And you’re going to thank me for it.”

He pushes in slowly, deliberately. You dig your nails into your palms as you struggle to accomodate his girth, each inch more unbearable than the last. You moan, helpless under the flood of sensation.

Your entire body arches—mouth falling open in a silent scream as your walls stretch around him, the sudden intrusion overwhelming. He’s thick, hard, relentless from the first stroke, and your Evol-bound body can do nothing but take it.

Then he begins to move.

“Fuck—” His voice finally drops from its usual cool tone, his grip tightening on your waist. “So fucking tight.” he growls into your shoulder. “You’re taking me so well for someone who wasn’t expecting company.”

Slow at first—just enough for you to feel every ridge, every pulse. Then faster, deeper, brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air again, water splashing around your bodies. Your voice is a blur of moans and gasps, lost in the sound of him fucking you like he owns you. Every thrust is deep, purposeful—like he’s trying to brand his shape inside you.

“That’s it,” he growls, hips snapping against yours. “Take it.”

Your mind is blank, fogged with the blinding edge of overstimulation. Pleasure coils violently in your belly—shame and ecstasy twined too tightly to separate. Your climax crashes over you before you can stop it, hips jerking in the water as you sob through it, Evol still locking you in place.

But he doesn’t stop.

If anything, he thrusts harder, riding out your orgasm only to build another. His hands grip your hips now, fingers digging bruises into your skin as he pistons into you, his pace brutal and fast.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Let go. Come for me again."

Your body locks around him, shaking with every thrust as he fucks you hard, water splashing around both of you as the pace builds again. Each slap of skin sends sparks through your body, and your climax slams into you harder than the first—violent, uncontrollable, teeth letting go of your lip as you scream.

But the man doesn’t let go. Not yet.

His grip is bruising on your waist as he thrusts through your orgasm, chasing his own release, panting now—low, guttural noises ripping from his throat until finally he drives into you one last time and groans, spilling into you, body tight with tension.

Your Evol restraints dissolve, and you slump forward, boneless and shaking. He catches you, pulls you against him, your bodies still half-submerged in the water.

But he’s not done.

You barely register movement until he lifts you—just enough to sit you on the edge of the tub, legs spread, dripping, glistening in the soft steam-lit glow.

“Don’t move.”

His tone is lower now, huskier. Almost reverent.

He kneels in the water between your thighs, hands parting you again, spreading you wide for him. You flinch from the contact, still sensitive—but that only makes him smirk.

“So soft,” he murmurs, fingers stroking your swollen folds before his tongue finally presses flat against you.

Your head drops back with a cry, the sudden rush of wet heat too much, too sharp. He licks slow, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over your clit in lazy, deliberate strokes.

You buck against him, fingers digging into the tiled edge of the tub, helpless to the fire blooming again in your core.

“Still sweet,” he mutters between licks. “Still twitching for me.”

His tongue circles your clit again, over and over, switching between soft teases and sudden hard flicks that make your thighs jerk and close around his head—until his Evol restrains you again, keeping your legs spread wide open for him.

He moans into you at the same time he presses two fingers back inside, tongue working in perfect rhythm, dragging you toward the edge again.

“Come on,” he growls against you. “Give it to me. Again.”

You don’t stand a chance.

You cum again, thighs shaking violently, your cries echoing in the steamy air, body collapsing into shudders as he licks you through every aftershock—until you’re a wrecked, panting mess above him, still twitching from the overstimulation.

Your body gives out the moment it’s over.

Every last drop of strength drains from your limbs—your mission fatigue, the emotional whiplash of being interrogated at gunpoint, the overwhelming pleasure wrung out of you in waves—it all crashes down at once.

You collapse into his arms.

His hands shift under your legs and behind your back, lifting you gently from the tub. You hear water dripping off you both as he carries you across the marble floor, steps unhurried, expression unreadable—but his hold is firm. Protective. Possessive.

He sets you down on a soft surface, kneeling beside you. He begins to wipe you down with a patience that doesn’t quite match his earlier ruthlessness. You flinch once, still sensitive, and his touch instantly softens.

He doesn’t say anything. But his eyes linger on every part of you he touches, watching the way your body reacts—memorizing you all over again, even now.

When he’s done, he scoops you up again, walks you into the bedroom, and lowers you onto his bed.

His sheets smell like him—amber, leather, gunmetal.

You barely register the soft rustle of fabric as he dresses you in one of his button-downs, sleeves swallowing your arms. He tucks the hem under your thighs and smooths it out over your belly. It’s oversized, but warm. Familiar.

He pulls the covers over you and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering a moment.

He then leaves the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

In the living room, Sylus towels off, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a loose black shirt. His fingers run through his wet hair before he picks up his phone and dials.

The line rings once.

“What?” Kieran’s voice comes through groggy and irritable. “It’s late, man.”

“You didn’t think to tell me you've already met my Beloved?” Sylus says flatly.

There’s a pause. Then an incredulous laugh.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Sylus’ jaw clenches.

“The woman you’ve been letting use the penthouse. The one you’ve been hiding from me.”

“What? I wasn’t hiding—wait.” There’s a beat of silence. “You met her?”

“I did more than just meet her.”

“Sylus,” Kieran says, voice rising with panic. “What did you do?”

Sylus groans and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“What didn’t we do?”

There’s a choked sound on the other end of the line.

“Are you fucking serious?! You better not have hurt her or els—”

“Calm down,” Sylus cuts in, voice cool again. “If anyone’s ass needs to get handed back to them, it's yours—for letting strangers use my property without telling me.”

“She’s not a stranger,” Kieran snaps. “She’s the only one I’ve let use it. You’re lucky it was her and not, I don’t know, someone actually dangerous.”

“Hmph.” A rare hint of amusement glints in Sylus’ tone. “Then you’ve made your one good decision today.”

“Sylus—seriously, just…Be gentle with her, okay?”

“I always am,” he replies smoothly, ending the call before Kieran can protest further.

He returns to the bedroom quietly.

The lights are dim now, your breathing soft and even beneath the covers. He slips in behind you, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

His nose brushes your slightly damp hair. He inhales deeply—like he’s grounding himself in the scent of you, the warmth of you in his bed.

You shift in your sleep, instinctively curling toward him. He smiles against your temple and presses a soft kiss there.

“We’re finally reunited,” he whispers. “My Beloved Sorceress.”

And he holds you tighter—like he never intends to let you go again.

© sylvieisoffline's original work | all rights reserved | translation, plagiarization, and copying is strictly prohibited

[tvsglow]

oddly enough , billie feels the rush going to their head - ultimately , it makes them dizzy , in a good way . or they're not sure if it is in a good way considering that their skin feels way too fucking hot & they're not even sure if it's him causing it or if it's their own doing . maybe it's the way that he had his hand around their neck , that's what made them feel this way . nonetheless , billie's eyes are trained on him - like a dog to its trainer - which is insane because billie's never felt this way about anyone before . hell , they'd never let anyone touch them in a demeaning way , but god , jasim's hand takes the cake for being the first to do so .

they've admitted to liking it ( ... ) was that so bad ? truthfully so , billie doesn't know what's worse - them liking it or wanting him to do it again , but harder . is it bad that they want him to test their breathing ? to constrict from getting to their throat - to see how far he can get with postponing something as simple as sucking in air from them ? it's such a wonder , considering how good it felt to give him that power that he so craved for , the one that's held in his hands for them to taste for a moment - even if it's a temporary second of their life being endangered .

" don't ever say sorry , " they're letting out , soon drawing their hand to his wrist - eyes on him as if he's the only person in the world for them , as if he's the only one who can feed into their hunger for whatever it is .

at the moment , billie absolutely cherishes him . as their hand is placated on his cheek , a sigh comes from their lips - a loving gaze , even if he doesn't think that he deserves it , he does . there's nothing to be ashamed of , especially since billie's wanting this , to have their neck held in his possession as if they're nothing but a toy for him to play around with . if that's what he truly wants , they'll do it for him . that's how much billie wants to fulfill his needs - to ensure that he's happy with his choice in choosing them for whatever sick , perverted thoughts he wants to project .

with short breaths , billie's chest hikes up & down , admiring the one in front of them - with how beautiful he is , in this lighting . this space made for the two of them , no one can interrupt it ( ... ) nor do they want anyone to , it's their moment together . billie can feel their neck throbbing , considering that he's dug his nails so far into their skin , it feels like it's bleeding but it isn't . watching as his head tilts , fitting into their palm , all of billie's worries wash away - earning a smile from them as they're silent in all of this , only wanting to keep their eyes on him .

" you think so ? " billie's laughing lightly , feeling their shoulders relax even more , their face contorted with an adoring gaze , head tilting on command as he comes in - kissing the marks riddled against their skin , trying to hide the way that it makes them feel , to have his lips against their neck like that , makes them breathless all over again . " you don't ( ... ) you don't have to .. wouldn't it be better if people saw it ? " they're asking , voice kept in a light demeanor , as one of their hands fall to his waist , holding him tight .

                   ⊱ it's their heartbeat that jasim listens out for, more than anything. that throbbing pulse beneath his fingertips, a muscle working overtime to carry oxygen to their lungs, and he can hear that, too. the rush of blood, supplying billie with the lifeforce that he actively threatens to take away from them.

                   it's a comforting sort of relief when they confess to liking it, perhaps as much as he does—which is decidedly too much. or, maybe that's just wishful thinking. in either case, it's all or nothing with him, an extremism he's only ever known. it drives people away as much as it pulls them in, and he can only ever hope for the latter when it comes to billie.

                   ❝ still gonna say sorry, ❞ even if he doesn't mean it. especially because he doesn't mean it.

                   he's not embarrassed, per se, nor is he ashamed. not on the surface, at least. but, that hand cupping his cheek does assuage the nagging thoughts of himself. the quiet why would you do that and what the fuck is wrong with you that he does better ignoring. it's for the best that he ignores the mutual arousal, as well.

                   his fingers slip from their neck to the digits caressing his skin. with this movement, an angry red depicting crescent marks from his nails and the blooming bruises to match come into his view; no longer obscured by his own flesh. he tilts his head, unintentionally into their hand, and can't halt the slight grin that tugs at his lips.

                   ❝ looks good on you, ❞ he mumbles, soft and nearly sweet. with it, he leans forward, allowing his lips to press against the damage on their neck in a tender kiss. ❝ i can help you cover them up, if you want... my sister taught me how after a very long lecture from our parents. ❞ he chuckles after this attempt to take apart the tension. ⊰