#and like how she learns to Deal after everything

[gremlin-bot]

There is No Closure, Just Adapting To Life

Ao3 link: Here Master list: Here

Summary:

Danny should have asked more questions before accepting the request to fix a different dimension's time stream from Clockwork. He didn’t think he would be de-aged and live a different life where he would latch on to a new family and friends. It was nice being a part of a community of heroes.

It really wouldn’t have been that bad if he stayed there. Too bad that he was pulled from that world and back into his old one, both fulfilling his wish to see his original family and killing all the relationships with his new ones.

Now he has to figure out how to live in his original dimension again. And maybe, just maybe find a way to visit the one he forcefully left behind.

Chapter 1: Your trial period is over; your account has been put on hold.

Danny shouldn't be thinking about the past life he lived, shouldn't think about the parents who adopted him only to disappear for months at a time, nor the vigilante family he’d inserted himself into during their time of need. That life wasn't his to begin with! Just a dimension with a timeline that needed fixing in an unconventional way. 

So, why is he crying? 

He just got back to his home, time hadn’t passed here. He can see Sam, Tucker, and Jazz again! (He'll never see Cass, Jason, Dick, Damien, Steph, Kon –) He's more experienced and better at fighting now. He can protect Amity better! (He misses Gotham. The city seemed to make heroes feel like magic) Danny has his original life back… but damn it, he wants to go back! He doesn't want to protect a city alone again! 

Danny curls into himself on his bed. Silent sobs racking his body. He's so different than he was before. His hair was longer and parted in the middle, nothing like his usual, (old), fringe style. His missing scars and the new ones he can't explain. Gods-  (No, wait, it's Ancients) he is missing his spleen! How was he going to explain that, or any of this? Even as his sobs grew more violent, their volume didn't increase. 

A trick he learned in the Wayne manor. 

He didn't want to disturb anyone with his half remembered dreams of a different life.

Danny took a shuddering breath, the feelings he’d been trying to bury since his return hitting him full force. He’d been sucked back to his original dimension without warning a day ago. Clockwork, that bastard, didn't even give him time to say goodbye to the rest of the Bats and Birds. He was in his apartment as Tim Drake one second and plopped in Danny Fenton's bedroom the next. 

His talk with the older ghost didn't make the situation any better. 

He didn't explain anything! Just that his work in that dimension's timeline was done. If Clockwork hadn't time locked the portal Danny would've been in the ancient’s lair instead of dissociating in a room that doesn't feel like his anymore. He hates not being given a choice or having a plan. 

Jason was right; anger was so much easier than actually dealing with your feelings.

His spiraling was stopped when he heard a soft knock on his door. Oh, he’d forgotten that Jazz was home. Living through a lifetime made him forget a lot about his first one. He didn't get time to follow the new spiral of thoughts before his sister opened the door. 

"Danny?" Her voice was soft, laced with worry.

"Yeah," He hates how hoarse his voice sounds.

 He should be better than this; he’s infiltrated the league of assassins for Ancients’ sake. He watched as she approached his bed, buried beneath blankets. He can hear when she actually sees him by her gasp. 

"What happened?" Jazz asked as she sat on the bed facing him.

"I… I fixed a timeline in a different dimension for Clockwork." Danny can't bring himself to look at her. Everything is still fresh. The feeling he can just barely comprehend as grief has yet to settle inside him. He takes a deep breath. He can compartmentalize this and deal with it after Jazz leaves.

"How long were you gone this time, a month or two?" Jazz looks at him with unending patience and care. 

"17 years," He whispers hesitantly.

"Oh… oh, Danny." He couldn’t have prepared himself for the shock and pained confusion on her face. She leaned her over him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Oh, he can't compartmentalize this after all. Danny’s breath hitched as fat tears began rolling down his face, dampening his pillow even more. His life as Tim made him forget what it was like to have unending support from a sibling. He loved the hodge podge of the Waynes, but he was a vigilante first. He wasn’t really family.

Just a coworker.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too much. Just know that I’ll always be here for you little brother,” Jazz’s voice was gentle. Oh, did he miss her during those years. Cass and Barbara helped him cope with missing Jazz whether they knew it or not.  He turned into her, relishing in the fact she was here. He may be missing a whole new family, but he got his old one back.

“I missed you, Jazz. Can you stay here with me for a little while?” He pleaded between silent sobs.

“Of course. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

---------—x—---------

Tim woke up to the sound of typing and the sight of red hair. He must have crashed at Barbara’s last night. He sits up, not fully awake just yet.

“Morning, Babs,” he yawns, eyes blurry. 

The gentle but persistent clicking of keys stops with a hitch of her breath. "Danny, it's me Jazz. Is Babs someone you were close to… before?" 

The voice he hears back isn't Barbara's.

It's one he barely recognizes now, made even harder to place with the barely covered pain. Jazz deserves a better brother than him. 

What kind of brother is he, that he doesn't even remember his own sister at first glance. 

Danny takes a deep shaky breath. No, he can't think like that. He hasn't seen her in 17 years, Of course he isn't going to recognize her. Still she hasn't changed one bit. 

He can't tell if that makes it better or worse.

"Yeah" he croaks, voice rough from sleep and the lump that's formed in his throat. “She has hair like yours.”

“Oh… do you want to talk about it?” she offers awkwardly. She was completely out of her depth but still wanting to help in her own way. (Alfred would have loved to meet her.)

Danny shakes his head, pushing past the aching in his chest as he drags himself out of bed. He doesn't look back at Jazz, he doesn't want to see the pitying look in her eyes. Something ugly, angry, and raw always tends to creep into him when that particular emotion is directed at him, and she doesn't deserve that.

What a cruel joke that the one thing that he gets in spades in both lives is pity.

He needs a strategy if he plans to survive the next couple of days, (the rest of his life), and that starts small. Get ready and investigate what the hell was happening in his life before… his time mission. He lost so much time with his breakdown, how annoying. 

Tim (no, he's Danny now) huffs, opening his closet. Well before he starts anything he needs a damn shower. 

---------—x—---------

By the time Danny was clean and dressed, Jazz had left him with a journal with his name on it and her scrapbook. Ancients, she really is the best big sister. (Cass would contest that). 

He knows that he should dive into them right away, but… he can put it off a little longer. Remembering and relearning will take time, and he has all the time in the world now, whether he likes it or not. Diving deep will be too much. He’s too emotionally raw, and just needs something to latch on to, like: 

Next day survival plan 101, start small. 

He can look at Danny’s phone; he’ll figure out what to do with Tim’s later. Remember, one step at a time; one thing at a time. Finding the device was easy, it was on the nightstand where he always leaves it. Seems like this is one of the habits he kept in both lifes. Opening it up was easier than he originally expected; he really didn't have a sense of cybersecurity beyond Tucker back then.

(…Now?)

The device was familiar in so many different ways; he always did gravitate towards technology (with Tucker pushing him forward right next to him). The screen lit up, showing the basic layout of all phones; he dismissed notifications from dumb games, leaving the social media ones. What he was really looking for was his messages.

He had a couple new messages from Sam and Tucker in their group chat. He should look at the chat, but, in doing so, he'd be facing the people he had been grieving their missing presence for the last 17 years. A missing presence that had him picked up so many new hobbies, just because they reminded him of his two best friends. Danny would have never touched a camera if it wasn't for the ache in his chest everytime he passed a looming gargoyle. The hundreds of pictures will finally be seen by their intended audience, if he could only get himself to open the gods damned chat!

Shaky breath slips from his lips as he steadies his thoughts. Baby steps. Look at the messages and go from there.

— New Messages —

PettyWitch

Tucker I swear if your ass isn't up rn, I'm coming over and replacing all of the meat in your fridge with lettuce.

TFine

give me a sec 2 get down there you can stop calling me 

i'm not going to answer

what about Danny

how come you aren't calling HIM!!!!!

PettyWitch

Bc Danny can actually get up before noon during the weekends unlike other people in this chat! So he can be trusted to get to Nasty Burger on time. 

TFine

HEY!

Their banter goes on. Danny scrolls through it with a painful kind of fondness draping over him. A hole that once gouged his heart was being filled, only to have a different part get ripped out for the same reason. The people he missed will always have some type of mouth on them, especially one that gets them in trouble. Moving past the too fresh grief and focusing on the conversation at hand does bring about a pressing issue, he's supposed to meet up with Sam and Tucker soon.

Shit.

Looks like he's facing more ghosts of his past-turned-present sooner than he thought. It's Tucker and Sam. They stuck with him through his death and his first hero career. If anyone besides Jazz could sympathize with him, it was them. Resolve hardened like the Bat he is (was —there is no way back to them now), he spends the little remaining time flipping through pictures and looping handwriting as he pieces the memory of his old life back together.

[schemmentigfs]

Sweetening The Deal. (part 4.)

Summary: you learn more about the mysterious fiery redhead and things start to change..

Tags: @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @greencurlyhair @schmentisgf @dopenightmaretyphoon @pitstopsapphic

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Settling into the passenger seat of Melissa’s sleek car, you tried to calm the flutter in your chest. The entire morning felt surreal—first being invited to stay in her luxurious penthouse, then getting a full tour of her space, and now… a personal shopping trip with Melissa Schemmenti herself deciding everything for your upcoming change of pace on life. You cast a shy glance her way as she adjusted her orange sunglasses, already focused on the road with that steady, unruffled confidence that always seemed to surround her.

Seconds later, the engine hummed to life as she pulled out onto the streets of Center City Philadelphia. The redhead woman had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console, close enough that you could almost—almost—reach out and take it.

But you didn’t. The fear was too strong.

The drive was smooth, and for a moment, the silence between you felt almost too comfortable. You stole another glance at her as she focused on the traffic, her olive eyes hidden behind those pairs of designer sunglasses. She looked so effortless, so polished. Every detail about her—her crisp, tailored blazer, the way her auburn hair caught the sunlight—seemed intimidatingly perfect. You fidgeted with your hands, unsure of how to break the silence.

You hadn’t expected to feel so nervous. After all, you were just on your way to the mall to pick up a few things. It wasn’t a big deal. But the truth was, ever since that dream—that pornographic dream—you hadn’t been able to look at her the same way. You wouldn’t. You’d never told her about it. It was too embarrassing, too raw. She didn’t need to know, not when things between you two had been just fine as it should be. Right?

The images were still too vivid in your mind. The way her grunts sounded in your ear, the soft pressure of her lips against your skin while her hands had gripped you, steady and strong, the feel of her clit sliding against yours. And then, somehow, that moment had shifted—becoming more intense, more dangerous. The vivid image of Melissa in her bedroom, her pale body stretched out in front of you, her ass glowing under the dim lighting of the room. You tried to suppress the memory, but it lingered like an unwanted guest, haunting you every time you tried to look at her.

The silence stretched on, and finally, you cleared your throat, gathering the nerve to ask her something, anything at all, that might distract you from the thoughts that haunted and terrorized you.

“So… what do you do for living?” you asked, your voice soft but hopeful. “When you were on your way to my apartment complex, you said something about meetings?”

Her fingers curled slightly around the wheel as she gave you a quick glance, just a flicker behind those sunglasses, before returning her attention to the road. “You’re looking at it,” she said, her voice clipped and cold, as if the answer should have been obvious. “When I’m not being some bratty kid’s sugar mama, I work in real estate. I manage a few properties. Very high-end stuff.”

“Oh, that’s—” you trailed off, unsure if you’d be bothering her by asking more and honestly, you felt a bit annoyed by the way she referred to you as a brat. Her responses were so curt, almost as if she was reluctant to share even the basics, and still here she was, driving you around, letting you stay in her penthouse, arranging this shopping trip. “Cool..”

“If you say so... I guess that’s one way to put it,” she sighed quietly.

You took another deep breath, hoping to calm your nerves, and tried again. “What about… hobbies? Do you have any of ‘em?”

Melissa snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I got hobbies.” She paused, glancing your way briefly before continuing in a tone that seemed half-reluctant. “I like to smoke. Cigars, mostly. Relaxing as hell after dealing with some motherfuckers at business meetings. And, uh, I watch Real Housewives sometimes. It’s a guilty pleasure, alright?” She smirked, but you could tell there was no real embarrassment there. She wore her quirks with confidence, her own unique brand of unapologetic pride.

“We all have guilty pleasures, Schemmenti,” you pointed out, feeling more comfortable. “What else?”

“I go to church sometimes,” the redhead added, softening a bit, turning distant. “Not every week, but, y’know… enough.” Her words seemed to falter, like there was something there she wasn’t quite saying. She swallowed, adjusting her sunglasses as she spoke, her tone strangely vulnerable. “Goin’ there, it helps me… forgive. Or try to, anyway.” She let out a small, humorless laugh, as if forgiveness wasn’t exactly something she found easy to come by.

The shift in her tone made your chest tighten. You wanted to ask what Melissa Schemmenti needed to forgive—or whom—but something in the features stopped you. Instead, you just nodded, letting her know you were listening, taking in each layer of herself she offered, even if she didn’t realize it.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, she fell silent. Her words ceased, and the hum of the road filled the gap. It was as if the conversation had taken a sudden detour, one that left you both in the moment of reflection. You could see her green eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, not really looking at anything but maybe thinking about everything.

She shifted in her seat, straightening her posture a little, but there was something new in her body language—a subtle withdrawal, almost like she was pulling back from herself. It was an instinct you knew too well, the way people guarded themselves after they’d shared something too raw. Melissa was never one to open up lightly. But now she seemed to be processing something else, something she hadn’t said yet. You wanted to reach out, to break the silence, but you hesitated. Something in the stillness of the moment felt important.

You couldn’t help but notice the way her hands tightened around the wheel, the tension in her shoulders, and the soft furrow between her brows. Her reflection in the mirror showed someone more guarded than she’d been a moment ago, as if the vulnerability she’d offered just a moment ago had been too much to bear. It wasn’t just her words she’d closed off—it was her entire presence.

Melissa didn’t speak again, but you felt it—the shift. And you couldn’t help but wonder what had caused it, what hidden part of her she was wrestling with now.

You glanced out the window, trying to steady your thoughts as the car moved through the city streets. As you sat there, trying to distract yourself from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind, another thought crept in—one you hadn’t dared to voice. You hadn't really thought about it until now, but the more you focused on the silence between you, the more you realized that you'd never seen much of the Schemmentis around.

Her penthouse was immaculate—every surface polished, every corner filled with the sharp edges of modern luxury—but there were hardly any family pictures, no casual snapshots of her childhood or moments with relatives. Sure, there were photos of friends, some from vacations or casual nights out, but when it came to her family, it was almost like a void. That lack of familial presence was... strange, especially considering how many photos of her with some of the Schemmentis were across the internet.

You found yourself wanting to ask, but hesitation gnawed at you. Was it inappropriate to ask about her family? Did it make her uncomfortable? You tried to imagine how she’d respond—whether she’d offer an easy, casual answer or if it would send her retreating into that unapproachable shell she sometimes slipped into. Maybe she didn't want to talk about them, and maybe you shouldn't pry.

But you couldn’t help it. Curiosity gnawed at you like an itch you couldn’t scratch. You wanted to know more about the redhead—the parts of her life she hadn’t yet shared, the side of her that wasn’t just the successful, confident woman you’d come to know.

The absence of family mementos seemed deliberate, almost as if she were keeping her history behind some invisible line you weren’t allowed to cross. You’d heard her mention her family here and there during one of your meetings to arrange your sugar mommy deal—her Italian heritage—but nothing in detail. And the one time she had let something slip, she’d quickly clammed up, her face shifting to that same, unreadable mask she wore now.

But why?

Did she have siblings? Were her parents close? Had she grown up in a family like the one she’d created for herself—one that seemed full of strength, but also a quiet kind of distance?

You turned your gaze out the window again, pretending to focus on the passing scenery, but your mind raced through all the questions you couldn’t ask. The truth was, there was something deeply personal about the idea of her family—or lack of it—that had piqued your interest more than you were comfortable admitting.

What kind of upbringing had made her the way she was? And why had she chosen to leave so little of that behind in her penthouse? Your thoughts spiraled, pulling you deeper into that place of uncertainty and wonder, your chest tightening as you realized just how much you wanted to know.

You felt guilty for even thinking about asking. It wasn't like you had any right to her history, and maybe it wasn’t fair to put her on the spot like that. So you kept quiet, watching her as she drove, her face set and unreadable.

Still, the curiosity lingered.

“Melissa,” you started again, your voice softer than you intended. “You mentioned Pearl earlier. I didn’t realize she’d been around that long.”

“Yeah, she’s been a part of the family for years. Practically helped raise us—me and my siblings. Eight siblings, yeah. Big Italian family—South Philly’s finest.”

You nodded, glancing down to your lap to avoid her gaze. “Eight siblings… that’s a lot. Must’ve been a full house.”

Melissa let out a soft scoff. “You could say that. It was chaos, pure and simple. We weren’t exactly living in luxury back then. Half of us had to share a room.”

The idea surprised you, though you supposed it shouldn’t have. The woman beside you was successful now, living in a penthouse and offering you a fresh start, but she hadn’t always been here. You couldn’t imagine her any other way, though—fierce, determined, always in control. It was… comforting. Attractive, even.

You bit your lip, realizing you were staring, and quickly turned your gaze back to the road ahead. “I guess it taught you to be tough?”

She chuckled, though there wasn’t much warmth in it. “You don’t survive in a house like that without learning a thing or two.” She paused, then cast you a quick look, her expression softening just a fraction. “I don’t talk about my family much, you know. Or my fuckin’ past.”

Her honesty caught you off guard, and you felt a strange sense of privilege knowing she was sharing even this much with you. “Thank you for sharing,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Melissa waved it off as if it were nothing, but the way she looked at you made your heart skip. “Enough about me,” she scoffed, her tone firm but not unkind. “Today’s about you. We’re going to get you set up properly—starting with a wardrobe overhaul.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, though your cheeks felt warm. “I don’t think I need that much—”

Green eyes shot you a look, one brow raised. “I’m not taking no for an answer, brat. You’re with me now, so we’re doing this my way.” She glanced at you again, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Besides, I like spoiling you, you little shit.”

Ignoring the last words, your heart fluttered at the way she said it, so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, before you could think too much about it, she leaned over at a red light and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You froze, heat flooding your face as her lips lingered for just a second longer than necessary. When she pulled back, her gaze was steady, almost challenging, as if daring you to react. But words seemed to stick in your throat, and all you could do was stare at her, wide-eyed and flustered.

“Cat got your tongue?” Melissa teased pressing a hand on your thighs, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement.

“N-No, I just… wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, cursing yourself for sounding so awkward.

“Get used to it, honey. Mama’s got a habit of getting what she wants.”

The rest of the drive passed in a haze, each kiss she placed on your cheek or forehead leaving you breathless and aching to feel her plump lips on yours. You wondered if she could tell, if she noticed the way your hands fidgeted in your lap or the way your gaze kept flickering to her lips when you thought she wasn’t looking. But if she did, she didn’t say a word.

When you finally arrived at the mall, Melissa led you inside with a hand on the small of your back, her presence steady and grounding. You were still a little dazed, still reeling from every soft touch and lingering look she’d given you in the car.

The mall was bustling, but with Melissa by your side, you felt a strange sense of calm. Or maybe it was just that her confidence had a way of rubbing off on you, making you feel like you belonged, like you deserved to be here with her. She guided you through the maze of stores, her hand warm and reassuring on your back, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt, how right.

As you walked, she glanced at you, a thoughtful look in her green eyes. “We’re going to find something that suits you. Something… fitting.” She stopped in front of a high-end boutique, her tongue clicking as she turned to you. “Because from now on, you’re mine. And I want you to look like it.”

Your mouth went dry, and you felt your heart skip a beat at her words. Hers. The idea made your stomach flutter in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“Y-Yours?” you stammered.

Melissa smirked, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. “That’s right. My property, my rules.” There was an unmistakable edge of possessiveness in her voice, one that left you feeling both nervous and exhilarated.

You swallowed, your cheeks burning as you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. But She didn’t seem to mind. She simply took your hand and led you inside, guiding you through racks of designer clothes with an expert eye.

“What about this?” the redhead prompted, holding up a sleek black dress, her gaze assessing as she looked you over.

You fidgeted, feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. “It’s… nice.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your lack of enthusiasm. “Nice isn’t good enough. You’re going to try it on. And a few other things, too.”

Before you could protest, she had already gathered a small pile of clothes and was steering you toward the fitting rooms. Her hand was warm on your back, her presence reassuring even as she pushed you a little out of your comfort zone.

Inside the fitting room, you tried on each piece she’d picked out, feeling more and more like a different person with each outfit. The clothes were sleek, sophisticated, a far cry from the simple, practical pieces you usually wore. But when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel… good. Confident, even.

Melissa seemed to sense it, too. Each time you stepped out to show her an outfit, she looked you up and down with a smile that was equal parts approval and pride. “Now this,” she said, adjusting the collar of a suit you were wearing, her fingers brushing against your collarbone. “This is what I’m talking about.”

Her hand lingered for a moment, her touch sending a thrill through you that left you breathless. And then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to your nose, soft and warm against your skin. The act was quick but enough to make you widen your eyes.

“Perfect,” she murmured. “You look perfect.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you ducked your head, trying to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. But the Schemmenti woman wasn’t having it. She tipped your chin up with a gentle finger, her gaze intense as she looked at you.

“Don’t hide,” she spoke softly. “I want to see that smile.”

You couldn’t help it; you smiled, a soft, shy smile that felt a little too vulnerable, a little too real. But Melissa just smiled back, her gaze warm and unwavering.

“Good girl,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, let’s go pick out some accessories. Can’t have you looking half-done, can we?”

“No, ma'am,”

You followed her out of the fitting room, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. Each touch, each lingering look left you feeling more and more like you were on the edge of something—something you couldn’t quite name, but something you wanted more than anything. And as you walked by her side, her hand resting on your lower back, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were already hers in more ways than you could admit.

As you followed Melissa through the boutique, your mind was still buzzing with the strange excitement and nervousness from her words. You had tried on a few outfits by now, each one more elegant and polished than the last. But something about the idea of being hers lingered in the back of your mind, making your pulse race and your hands tremble ever so slightly.

“Let’s check out the lingerie section,” the green eyed woman suggest, smooth and confident as she steered you toward a secluded corner of the store. The racks here were lined with delicate lace, silk, and satin, all in a rainbow of colors. But it was the deep purple set that caught your eye first.

It was beautiful—luxurious and eye-catching, a perfect shade of rich purple with intricate lace detailing, the kind of lingerie that made you feel like you were stepping into a world of indulgence. You reached out for it, running your fingers over the smooth fabric. The soft, luxurious material felt like a secret, something that belonged to you alone.

The older woman noticed your interest right away. Her gaze flickered to the set, then to you, and the corner of her mouth curled into a knowing smirk.

“Like what you see?”

You felt your heart race as you nodded, a small, awkward laugh escaping your lips. “It’s... it’s gorgeous.”

“Good,” she murmured, taking the set from your hands with ease. “I think you’d look perfect in it. And, if I’m being honest, I’m not just buying you clothes... I’m making sure you're well taken care of in every way.”

You swallowed, the intensity in her voice making your stomach flip. You tried to compose yourself, but it wasn’t easy. The idea of her buying you something so intimate felt overwhelming in the best possible way.

Without waiting for you to respond, Melissa walked to the register, the purple lingerie in her hands like it was already meant for you. She turned over her shoulder as she moved, her expression softening. “Don’t worry,” she added, “you’ll wear it for me soon enough.”

“What?”

You couldn’t help but shiver at her words, a heat flooding your body at the thought of her seeing you in it, touching you in it.

At the register, Melissa didn’t hesitate. She handed over the lingerie set along with a few other items, her face unreadable but her eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place.

When she came back to you, the shopping bag in hand, she gave you a little wink. “You’re gonna love it. And so will I.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Your mind was still reeling from the intensity of the moment, from the way she made you feel like you were hers in ways you hadn’t even fully understood. The thought of wearing it for her, of being the person she chose to spoil and take care of, sent a jolt through you, and you weren’t sure if it was nervousness, excitement, or something else entirely.

But as Melissa led you back toward the exit of the boutique, her hand once again gently resting on your lower back, you couldn’t help but feel grateful, in awe of her confidence, her ability to make you feel seen and wanted in ways you’d never experienced before.

As you both made your way to the door, the weight of the shopping bags in your hands seemed to make the moment feel heavier, more real. Your nerves, still buzzing, didn't help the heat in your cheeks from all the attention Melissa had been showering on you. You could feel the weight of the purple lingerie in your bag like a secret, a promise, and it made your heart thud in your chest.

But then, as you approached the car, you hesitated. Your fingers clenched around the strap of the bag, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if you were excited or terrified. You glanced up at her, who was busy unlocking the car, her back to you.

The way she’d spoken earlier, the way she took control, was almost too much to process. And then, as if sensing the shift in your mood, she turned to face you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your lost expression.

Her face softened as she noticed the hesitation in your steps, but her voice dropped into something more serious. “What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet since we left the store, sweetheart.”

“I-”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You felt as though something was building inside you, a storm of emotions that you couldn’t quite name. The purple lingerie, her touch, the overwhelming sense of being wanted in ways you didn’t know you could be—it was all too much to process.

But before you could speak, Melissa raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing but commanding smirk. Suddenly, she stopped walking. Her hand shot out, gripping your wrist with an unexpected firmness, pulling you gently but decisively toward her.

“Tell me. What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, you stood there, caught between the pull of her touch and the weight of her gaze, knowing that this moment was more than you could handle and yet somehow not wanting it to end.

And just like that, you were left hanging—unsure of what would happen next.

[nakylvr]

Hello, could you do a one shot of Sophia from Katseye with a female reader? They are in the same group and like each other, but they never admit it, until one day when something happens in which Sophia gets jealous of the reader with some boy, and then declares herself afraid of losing her.

this was so fun to write, thank you so much for requesting! 🫶

— I LIKE YOU (I DO)

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: dealing with a crush in the same group is hard. dealing with the jealousy that comes with it is also hard. which is why sophia confesses out of fear.

warnings/tags: language, fluff, jealous!sophia, mutual pining, 7th member!reader, confessions

wc: 3,0k

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

Debuting was a dream come true. After dealing with two years of training and a survival show, you felt as if everything had worked out just the way it was intended to. You were close with all the girls that had debuted with you into the group and believed there was nothing that could go wrong from there. That was, except for the crush you had. 

You thought it was silly in the beginning, that it wouldn’t become anything too serious. You were with the other trainees since the beginning of the program, and grew extremely close to all of them. However, you realized within a few months that your “silly crush” was no longer silly anymore. It’s not like it was your fault! How could anyone not develop a crush on Sophia Laforteza? Still, you thought you were partially insane for it. 

The only thing you didn’t notice was Sophia’s feelings towards you were the same. 

Sophia felt like she had been shot in the chest when she was bluntly told by Daniela that it was obvious she had feelings for you. The “duh, it’s obvious” made her start panicking at the thought of being obvious about liking someone while being oblivious about it herself.  There was no way, in her mind at least. But, when she was told it she did realize it made sense, even if she didn’t notice the things she did herself. 

While Sophia was one of the older sister-like figure for most of the girls, it was noticeable that she would spend more of her time with you. If you were having a rough time during practice she would be there reassuring you and helping you with each step, when you weren’t practicing she was essentially always by your side, even if it was just sitting on the couch, Sophia made sure every time that she was the one sitting next to you, and if any of the other girls did she would throw a fit until one of them moved. She cooked for all the girls, but if you two were up in the middle of the night in the dorm she would make you food that was from your culture depending on what was in the dorm at the time. You two weren’t roommates, but the girls have multiple pictures of her making her way into your room to lay down with you and fall asleep that neither of you know about nor have seen. 

And yet, neither of you said anything. Both of you were too scared to do anything. It made sense. There was the initial fear of liking another person, then the fear of dealing with being in the same group as said person, and the many different outcomes that could come from it. Additionally, neither of you would ever believe the other reciprocated those feelings. 

You learned fairly quickly after debuting that Sophia could become jealous of when others would be around you, but you thought it was merely platonic and the sisterly love she had for all the girls in the group. You wouldn’t call yourself oblivious, but apparently, you were if you couldn’t figure this out. But, then again. There were a few times that made you start wondering about certain things. 

The first instance was when you were in Korea for the survival show, and she wakes you up in the middle of the night to go to a convenience store. 

“Psst, Yn, are you awake?” 

The answer was yes. You had been awake for the past two hours trying to get to sleep, so when you heard Sophia’s hushed voice ask you that question in the dark, you immediately responded. “Yeah.” You open your eyes to see Sophia crouching in front of your bed, the hood of her hoodie over her head and a small smile on her face as she hears you reply. 

“Do you want to go to a convenience store with me?” Sophia asks you. 

You can tell by the look on her face that she wants you to say yes, her eyes wide and filled with anticipation of your answer, the small smile on her face, and it’s what wins you over in the end despite your tiredness and dreading schedules for the next few days. “Yeah, sure,” You answer with a nod. “What time is it?” You ask, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with your hands. 

“It is…” Sophia’s voice trails off as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks at the time. “1:42!” She answers, showing you the phone. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” You ask her while yawning, grabbing your phone off the charger and swinging your legs over the bed, scooting yourself closer to the edge. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sophia shrugs, standing up. “Plus, I’m really hungry and want ramen.” She finishes with a smile. 

You let out a quiet chuckle and nod your head. “Yeah, that makes sense,” You say, getting up off your bed. “Give me a minute to get ready, I look like a mess right now,” You add, running a hand through your hair to try and fix what you know is a mess. 

“You look perfect,” Sophia responds the second after you speak without a hint of hesitation. It's too dark for you to see the blush make its way onto her face when she realizes those words actually came out instead of just staying in her head, but you're also grateful for the darkness as it hid your own flushed face. “I-I’ll be in the living room. Just come out when you're ready,” She says after a moment of silence, trying not to sound panicked but her stammering is noticeable. Within another second, Sophia hurries out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind her and going to sit down on the couch. 

You have no time to respond before Sophia is out of the room leaving you back in the darkness. You can’t lie to yourself and say that hearing those words from her made you feel warm inside because it did. Even if it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, it was still nice to have it be said while looking like a zombie half-awake at one in the morning. All you do to get changed is fix your hair, put a beanie on to cover the top, and put on a pair of slip-on shoes before leaving the room quietly. When you enter the living room, Sophia is sitting on the couch with her phone in her hands, looking at it so intently that she doesn’t even notice you walking up to her until you are standing right in front of her and speaking. 

“Wow, for someone who woke me up at one in the morning, you sure aren’t paying attention to me, huh?” 

Sophia’s head shoots up from her phone and a smile immediately makes its way onto her face. “Sorry, I was looking at something,” She replies. 

“Something important enough for me to go back to sleep?” You say with a short chuckle. 

“Nope!” Sophia shakes her head and quickly stands up. “Come on, let’s go!” She grabs your hand and starts walking to the front door. 

You let her drag your tired body to the front door and leave the house. You had your hood over your head like Sophia as you two started walking down the streets of Seoul to find a convenience store. You don’t even realize her hand is still holding onto yours until you glance down to look at the time on your watch, and a blush forms on your face, but you don’t do anything as you let your other hand fall back down to your side. 

After around ten minutes of talking whilst walking the streets, Sophia eventually spotted a convenience store and dragged you inside along with her. You felt an odd sense of relief when she let go of your hand finally, but you also wished she held onto it longer. But, again, you didn’t say anything as you two walked inside the small store. 

You absentmindedly follow Sophia as she roams the store looking through each of the small aisles of snacks. You stop in a random aisle and let Sophia walk off in another direction, grabbing a chocolate bar before continuing on your way to where Sophia was. You turn the corner to see her ripping open a package of ramen and you silently walk up behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

“Which one did you choose?” 

“Jesus Christ!” Sophia jumps, turning to look at you. “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Sorry,” You smile innocently at her. 

Seeing your smile has all the (petty) anger fading from Sophia’s body the second she sees it. She couldn’t lie, she did love your smile. It’s just she wished they were directed towards her more, even if there was already more to her than the other girls. She doesn’t even notice she’s staring until you point at the package in her hands. 

“You know that’s like, super spicy, right?” You ask her. 

“Huh?” She lets out, not hearing what you said due to being stuck in her thoughts and staring. “Oh! I think I’ll be fine,” She shakes her head, turning back to the machine that dispensed the hot water. 

“That’s what you say now,” You say, grabbing a package of ramen and one of the plastic bowls. You rip open the package with your teeth and pour the contents into the bowl, not noticing Sophia’s gaze on you out of the corner of her eye while you move. 

The two of you watch the water pour into both of the bowls and you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand and rubbing your eyes with your other hand. 

“You should get an energy drink,” Sophia says. 

“I’ll be alright,” You reply. “Plus, I’m used to Redbulls.” 

“Redbulls,” Sophia shakes her head mumbling to herself. “Those things are so bad.” 

“I just like the strawberry apricot flavor,” You shrug your shoulders, grabbing the bowl from the dispenser and covering it with its top. “All the other flavors are shitty.” 

“They’re all shitty, Yn,” Sophia retorts, grabbing her bowl and sitting down at the little 2-person table. 

“Not the strawberry apricot,” You respond, sitting down in front of her. 

“Sure, sure,” She replies sarcastically while nodding her head. 

There’s a moment of silence that fills the space between you two and the small table, and you’re not sure what to say. You’re so awkward with Sophia outside of practice and the dorms that going out in the middle of the night with her feels weird now that it’s just the two of you alone. It’s not an awkward silence, it’s calming given the chaos you were thrown into daily with the program. But, you don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn’t anything to be said in the first place, you’re not completely sure. All you know is that this isn’t so bad, spending time alone with her without the other girls nearby. Looking at it now, you two look like a couple going to a place this late into the night just for some ramen. The thought made your face flush, and you look down at the table trying to not show it. 

“Are you okay?” Sophia questions once you randomly look down. 

“Yeah,” You nod your head, looking back up and at her. “I was just thinking,” You reply. 

Your words have Sophia raising one of her eyebrows, looking at you with an expression you hadn’t seen on her before. “About what?” She asks another question. 

The new look she’s giving you has you not knowing what to say. You could lie and say you were thinking about something totally different or, you could tell the truth and lowkey admit your crush on her. You can tell she’s anticipating your answer, and you stumble out words before you can even think over them and determine if you should say them. “I was just thinking about how we kinda look like a couple going out alone like this.” 

Sophia’s eyes widen for a split second before they return to normal, which you fail to notice, and she isn’t sure how to respond. She’s always known what to say and how to respond to things, but for some reason, she’s struggling right now. But, she tries her best to not show it. “Yeah, we kinda do, don’t we?” She replies, tilting her head slightly and smiling. “You don’t feel weird about that?” 

Her response along with her smile has the prominent blush on your face growing bigger, and you shake your head at her question. “No,” You answer. “Do-” You clear your throat out of nervousness. “Do you?” 

“No,” Sophia immediately answers, shaking her head with the smile not leaving her face. 

You weren't really sure what that meant in the moment, but when you two returned to the house you found yourself unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your mind of what it could possibly mean. But, you didn't voice these thoughts out loud ever. Except to Megan, who insisted that it was obvious, Sophia liked you as well. 

Once the realization dawned on you that surely, Sophia liked you back, you felt a whole assortment of feelings that you didn't know what to do about. You didn't want to confess, because of the possibility that you were wrong, accidentally mistaking the kindness for liking you. But, you were having a hard time keeping it inside at the same time. 

You ended up keeping it inside the whole time. Throughout the program, throughout debuting, you didn't say a word. You couldn't. You didn't want to ruin everything that was built just because you ended up developing a silly crush on her. You weren't stupid enough to do that. 

In the end, it was Sophia who confessed first. 

It was an off day after months of schedules after officially debuting, and you and Sophia were doing a Target run to get groceries for the dorm. She had left you with the cart while she went further down the aisle to get something, leaving you standing there tapping your hand on the cart to a random song. 

You heard your name from behind you, and you turned your head to see one of your old friends walking up to you. A smile instantly grows on your face seeing him walk up to you. 

“Jax! I haven't seen you in forever!” You say smiling, hugging him as he walks up to you. 

“How are you doing?” He asks you once he pulls out of the hug. “You’re like, famous now,” He laughs lightly.

“I’m good!” You answer, giggling softly at his second sentence. “I’m not famous yet, Jax. I just debuted.” You shake your head. “But uh, it's something.”

“Mm?” He hums, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean?” He questions.

“Nothing,” You shake your head again. “Don't worry about-” You stop your words when you hear footsteps approaching from behind and stopping next to you. 

“Sorry, no pictures,” Sophia says while putting the items in the cart, putting her hand up.

“Oh, I’m not a-”

“Sorry, we have to get going now,” She cuts him off before he can finish. “Come on,” She grabs your hand and starts walking away.

“Sophia, what the hell?” You instantly say when she stops halfway across the store. “He was my friend.” You pry your hand out of her grip. 

“I don't like him,” She responds, shaking her head. 

“What?” You question. “Okay, so? I haven't seen him for months! And you just dragged me off! You can't just do that!”

Sophia shakes her head again, not knowing what to do. She acted without thinking, she rarely does that. Now she got herself stuck in a situation not knowing how to handle it. You're clearly irritated judging by the look on your face, and she's contemplating just outright saying the reason she did it, the reason she did everything when it came to you. “I-” She starts, but you're quick to cut her off.

“You're what?” You cross your arms over your chest. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the debut, hell, since the lineup was announced! Part of me is starting to think you secretly hate me or something!”

“What?” Sophia lets out, looking at you like you just said something insane. “No, no, no, no, I don't hate you!” She says quickly, panicking truly for once in her life. “Yn, you have to understand I can't-”

“Understand what, Sophia? That-”

“I have feelings for you!” Sophia raises her voice to speak over you, her face immediately turning red when she realizes what she said. “I mean, I, uhm,” She stammers out as the look on your face changes and you take a step towards her.

“Are you serious?” You question seriously. “Please don't be lying to me right now.”

“I’m serious,” She answers quietly. “I know it's not-” She stops abruptly when you cup her face in your hands, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There's a moment of silence that lingers in the air as you two stare at each other, before you hesitantly start leaning closer to her. You stop, hesitating again with your lips merely inches away from hers, trying to see in her eyes if she really wanted this. Before you can do anything else, Sophia closes the gap and kisses you. It's quick as she pulls away, smiling at you with you smiling back.

“You don't have a clue how much I’ve wanted that to happen,” You admit shamelessly. 

“Mm, I had a feeling,” She says jokingly. 

“Oh really?” You reply in the same tone, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah, Dani claimed it was ‘obvious’ to everyone else,” She nods.

“I’m so going to kill her when we get back,” You grumble out.

“Oh be quiet, it's cause of her this happened anyways,” Sophia pats your head gently. “You can kill her later.”

“Fine.”

[stari-jelly]

yaknow what I have no shame. lore for the forgotten island.

First I decided to name the island because why not and came up with Auroralis. now I imagine that the island is split into 6 rings and in the center is a mountainous region that holds the highest peak on the island.

the first ring is Dawnveil Shores and is home to a lot of fishing towns and ports. most people live simple lives and make money from catching and selling fish. this ring is guided by Miaplacidus Beta Carinae of Carina. long ass name I know bare with me. Miaplacidus is the guide and kinda like the priest. they teach the path of dawn which focuses on the body and one's self.

the second ring is Solstice Meadows, the farming ring. this ring is big on community and helping one another and supplies the other rings with food. this ring is guided by Merga h Bootis of Bootes. Merga is an eccentric old man who just wants to help everyone. he teaches the path of day which focuses on community and learning about yourself through others.

the third ring is Duskbrim Mistral, this ring is the working ring. lots of jobs and housing in this big city. this ring is guided by Diadem Alpha Comae Berenices of Coma Berenices. Diadem is a silent yet well read woman who teaches the dusk path. this path focuses on the mind and self regulating. learning about how the mind works to keep healthy and happy.

the fourth ring is Starlith Sprires, the artisan ring. this is a large city that focuses on all sorts of entertainment and self expression. lots of galleries, theaters, operas, everything. this ring is guided by Sheliak Beta Lyrae of Lyra. Sheliak is a young woman who loves to be center stage and show herself off as well as her followers. she teaches the path of Starlight which focuses on self expression and dealing with emotions through art.

the fifth ring is Lunaspectra, the prophet ring. this ring is on the smaller side and is an open field right before the mountains of the center ring. the ring is guided by Porrima Gamma Virginis of Virgo, a wise seerer. Porrima teaches the path of midnight, looking to the stars and the past to predict the future and warn of threats. the stars sing to those who listen with careful ears.

lastly is the mountains region of the sixth ring, Nocturna Mantle. not many live here and it is a sacred place were the other guides meet to discuss the happenings in the country. this land is guided by Sadachbia Gamma Aquarii of Aquarius, a mysterious woman who looks eternally youthful. she teaches the twilight path, the path to the soul. looking deeper within one's self through meditation and rituals you can craft the world around you in ways that seem impossible.

when a child on the island turns 14 they hold a ceremony where the child chooses which path they wish to follow. and if they are dedicated enough they can even become a Radiant, a right hand the the guides and one day their replacement when they eventually die.

everyone on the island is named after a star and those from the same family are named after stars from the same constellation.

anyway that's my thoughts on the forgotten island. might get into siffrin's role and life on the island later but eh.

[derww]

DAY 28: POSESSION

CW: Death, violence, religious themes

He wakes up and feels a knife by his throat.

Firstly he panics, but then sees the person holding it and it's Mapicc – in Spoke's body, but it's still Mapicc. After that, he calms down instantly.

– Pina colada, - he says and the weight on his neck disappears. Mapicc nods and pulls a knife away.

– Welcome back, Zam.

It cannot be said that everything is fine with Mapicc himself too: he has never been able to get used to the inability to see clearly beyond his nose, the desire of this pathetic body to complete deformation and the continuing flow of the inaccessible but too great power of God in the blood. His center of gravity had been knocked down, and Spoke's twin blades, instead of the falcata destroyed in the explosion, were too light for the comfort and lingering blows. Zam gives him his saber, taken from the corpse, but even it lies wrong in insufficiently material fingers.

It's a coinflip every time – who will wake up, who is responsible. Zam was stronger, more tenacious, but Spep was also breaking through from time to time. They were afraid that one day it would be Minute who would wake up. It never happened but they couldn't afford to let their attention wane. Their worst enemy in the middle of their base is a death sentence.

Sleepwalking, Zam was unstable in his activity and could pass out half a step away. But he refused to give up – he wrestled control for himself, adapted to the sword from Minute's corpse, and moved step by step.

Jumper was standing against them. And two immortal gods with their wings torn off. Void and chunkban were the only ways to solve the problem, and they burned too many Ashes bookbans to deal with them themselves. At least while they have another option.

Mapicc had to learn to identify each of them by vague figures, Zam had to study how to faint safely, and Ro had to withstand the loads and fight over and over and over again. Only Clown looks as always, but even his hands are gradually starting to tremble.

Jumper is chosen by the gods, and they feed her with divine apples and crown her with a laurel wreath, and black and purple and red ribbons are woven into her cropped hair. She has no shortage of armor, she always has the exp bottles and golden apples, she almost creates potions out of thin air and never removes bright pink elytras. But she is still mortal. Unlike Ash and Squiddo, Jumper is still mortal.

Zam refuses to sleep. As long as the body belongs to him, he uses it, no matter how exhausted it is. Spep's body is not his own, it is weaker and more vulnerable, it is not hardened in endless battles and days of grinding, and one day Zam exhausts it so much that Spep who wakes up in his own body next cannot even move a limb.

They manage to push Squiddo into the void, but before that, she point-by-point blows up Mapicc on the spot. This time it's Zam who has to grieve for his dead partner, but he just doesn't have time for it. He and Ro have to climb out of another chunkban, and he is knocked out almost immediately after. The next time he wakes up, it's Clown who's holding him and asking for the password. Zam thinks wearily that he would like to cry.

Instead of two gods, there is only one now – and Jumper, she is still here, angel wings and one more ribbon in her hair – and Ash is noticeably gloomy, carrying a bible of saving the world under his arm. In such a man, with pointed facial features and dark eyes, black lightning burns from the Bhaal sunk deep into the skin are especially noticeable.

This time, Ash throws an inventory ban at Clown, and Clown doesn't even have time to say anything. While Ro cuts Jumper off, Zam writes a first book for the bookban with unnaturally icy fingers and then breaks the shulker on the build limit right above Ash. When he finally gets down and reunites with Ro, he can barely stand on his feet, and Ro, taking on some of the weight, brings him back to their base. Home. Zam's pupils roll up halfway through, but he finally falls asleep only inside the base. Ro leaves him on the bed, making sure he doesn't break his neck or swallow his own tongue, and only then allows himself to take a break.

This is... Exhausting. It wasn't the first time Ro had been involved in a war, but never before had it demanded to give it his all. This war had been going on for a month, and every new day was full of deadly dangers and demanded to give everything for the sake of a ghostly chance to achieve something.

But they almost did it. Jumper was left completely alone. Neither Squiddo nor Ash will be able to help her, and the world border is so small that they can always find her. And Branzy still hasn't revealed himself as their ally...

Just a little more, and he can finally get it over with. Kill Jumper. Destroy the world. Retire. See Mapicc again. He nods to himself. Take a rest, and then end the world, reminds Ro to himself, and then passes out.

Zam wakes up before Ro does. He moves with both mechanical and slightly awkward movements. For some reason, there is no pupil in his whitened iris.

[dullgecko]

Ok, since you said this is how we play I'll try It, how does Riz react when he learns he's Friends are alive? I guess he feels relive, that means he hasn't got them kill but at the same time why haven't they revivem him?

Yeah baby! Play the game get a prize (the prize is more words)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

There was something to be said about being dead, Riz certainly didn’t feel himself getting tired anymore beyond the general brain fatigue of reading through records for hours on end. Bytopia almost rivalled the nine hells when it came to bureaucracy but the rogue considered himself an expert after helping Fig claim ownership of the bottomless pit. A little angelic paperwork wasn’t going to stop him even if he felt like he was going a cross-eyed from reading through rulebooks and forms.

Once Pok had shown him to the record room, a vast almost endless plain of bookshelves that stretched to the horizon hidden behind an unassuming door in the fields of Elysium, he’d been called away to deal with a problem for the LPRTF. Riz getting left behind to find the information he needed with only what little guidance his father could give him in the few seconds he had spare before sprinting out of the room.

This was fine. Riz was his party’s research guy. If there was something here to find he would find it that was guaranteed. First and foremost? Making sure his party was okay. It took him a couple of hours to track down everyone’s files, the goblin feeling relieved when he checked and found that each of them was still okay and alive in turn. Each of their records was a detailed account of their entire lives, the pages in the ‘future’ were written but even looking at them made his head spin and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He absently wondered if maybe Adaine would be able to see what was written there given she was the oracle, but the better question would be whether she wanted to read it.

He didn’t want to violate his friend’s privacy too badly though, even though he was very tempted to take a quick peek at their childhoods, only quickly checking their status was listed as ‘alive’ on their files before placing them back where he found them. Checking his own records should be fine though right?

Finding his own records was a lot harder, mostly because they were stored separately from those still on the Prime Material, and when he found it it was almost triple the size of his friends. Reams of paperwork regarding his employment with the LPRTF enclosed between the covers of the folder making it much thicker. He carefully started pulling out and reading through the bundles of paperwork, mostly just curious if there was any information that could be gleaned there but his brows ended up knitting together in confusion. The goblin tucking the folder under his arm as he went to find a reference book to double check everything was filed correctly because he had a niggling feeling still that something was off about his current life-status.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Time, when you’re dead, can get a little bit weird. You don’t need to sleep or eat (even though you can if you really want to) so the normal methods Riz tended to use to track the progression of time were completely absent. Because of this it had been nearly five days after entering that he finally stumbled back out of the records room, clutching his own file and a reference book in one hand and a slightly crumpled wad of paperwork in the other, and at least three files with his tail. The goblin looking a mix between completely and totally manic and gleeful as he stumbled over to the nearest agents desk and slammed the paperwork down in front of them.

“I should NOT be dead. Where’s Agent Gukgak?”

“He is, um, out? Some trouble in the Nine Hells.” The gnoll who’s desk he’d slammed the paperwork onto looked surprised, hyena ears flicking as they glanced between the face of the slightly unhinged looking goblin and the paperwork pinned under his hand.

“Oh okay, cool, never mind I’ll just talk to you then. I shouldn’t be dead.”

“You said… but I’m going to assume you’re going to explain why?”

They knew this was Pok’s kid, everyone in the LPRTF knew who he was and when word came in that he’d ascended at only seventeen they’d felt awful for him. Their wonderfully talented part time lower planar consultant suddenly promoted to full-time agent before he was even legally an adult? Incredibly sad, but there was little they could do about it other than help him through the first few stages of realising your ticket had been punched permanently. He looked WELL and truly into the denial phase right now.

“Yes. Okay, look. I found my file and all my employment paperwork and stuff.” Riz juggled his armful of papers, dumping them onto a clear spot on the gnoll agents desk and flipping open the reference book to the pages he’d marked. “You guys had permission to fast track me to ascended soul when I died and lock in my employment. This form.”

“Sure did honey, didn’t want you having to spend weeks in limbo while we processed everything so it was pre-filled for you.”

“Cool, alright, you know what I’m talking about then.” He shuffled through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “It’s filled in WRONG. You’ve got it listed as ‘on the event of my death’.”

“Yes dear.”

“No you don’t get it. It’s been filed as ‘on the event of my next death’ not ‘permanent death’. They filled in this bit of paperwork wrong. I’m an adventurer we die all the time but our cleric usually brings us back.” He jabbed at the page, juggling another file onto her desk from the stack he was holding with his tail. “This is my friend Kristens file, she’s my party cleric, she tried to resurrect me within fifteen seconds of my dying but you guys had already locked me in to becoming an ascended soul working here. You stopped me from being resurrected with the protections that stop agents being summonable to other planes without prior approval. She totally could have brought me back.”

“That’s not-“ The gnoll agent blinked, pulling the page Riz was jabbing at closer and reaching over to grab the reference book as well. The agent flipping through a few pages before smoothing out the slightly crumpled page Riz had been clutching, their eyes going wide with realisation. “-oh… oh dear. Well… you’re not wrong.”

“So we need to fix it.” Riz reached behind himself to grab the other files he’d been holding in his tail and stack them neatly on the desk, wings relaxing out of their outstretched position to fold comfortably behind his back as he calmed down.

“Well, we can fix it but you’re still dead kiddo. This is a huge fuck up on our part but we can’t just… zap you back into your old body. Literally all it will do is change the wording on this form to be ‘permanent death’… and it’s been nearly seven days since you died.” They dug a pen out of their desk drawer, waving it over the piece of paper and instantly fixing the wording in front of Riz before placing it back in his file still sitting on their desk.

“Yeah but they could still bring me back. Kristen could try Raise Dead that’s got a ten day time limit.” Riz flicked his tail, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk.

“Not really? You’re already an ascended soul and like you said, they can’t summon you to a lower plane without permission.”

“So? Just get me to a lower plane? Fig is the mistress of the Bottomless Pit they can just resurrect me there.”

The gnoll agent winced, having to look away when the rogue dropped his ears back and gave them the saddest look they’d ever seen. Holding their hand up to block their view of his face when he purposefully dilated his eyes to make them look bigger. “No, stop that. We could try but the process for approving getting an agent to the lower planes can take days.”

There was a blinding flash of light off to their left that made Riz drop the ‘sad goblin’ expression and stand back up straight, ears flicking into an expression of mild confusion as Pok was left behind in the wake of the beam of light. The older goblins hair smoking slightly and smelling heavily of sulphur as he glanced around the field and zero’d in on his son.

“Hey sport. Feeling better? Find what you needed to find?”

“Yeah. Paperwork was wrong. I shouldn’t be dead.”

Pok blinked, glancing at the gnoll agent who just nodded and shrugged in answer to his silent question. “Oh. Alright then. Glad to hear it. You might want to come with me then.”

Riz ruffled his wings and trot over to take Poks hand when it was offered, his father leading him away from the field full of desks until they were barely visible in the distance. The rogue just making a confused noise before reaching out to dust some of the soot off his dads back while they walked.

“Where have you been?”

“Just a few problems on the lower planes, I had them teleport me back here when I realised where the problem was headed.” He laughed, leading Riz up and over a hill that looked down into a different field of Elysium below them. A jagged tear splitting the landscape like someone had ripped a hole in a piece of paper, the bow of an unfamiliar ship jammed through the crack and allowing several demons to spill into Bytopia unimpeded.

All Riz could really do was stand there in shock as several figures clambered their way out of the ship to the ground, one of them stabbing one of the demons that launched themselves off the ship after them and putting them down in one attack. The figure turning to point their sword at the nearest celestial trying to fight back the incursion in order to ask them a question.

“YOU! Where the FUCK is Riz Gukgak?” Fabian slashed at another of the demons as they tumbled off the ship, giving it a swift kick to knock it back through the rift.

“Oh. Wait are my party the problem or are they helping you with a different one?”

“Bit of both.” Pok laughed, ruffling Riz’s hair after letting go of his hand. “The demons were trying to invade anyway they just hitched a ride on their ship to help fight them back… and probably come to fetch you.”

“Well… saves me a trip to the lower planes for a resurrection since I got my paperwork sorted.”

“I was a bit worried we’d have to fight your friends off too if they tried to take you but it looks like you sorted out the nitty gritty on your own… Good job.” Pok held his arms out, grunting a little when Riz threw himself at him for a hug before glancing back down at his friends fighting below.

“I’m going to go help… and hopefully get revived. Thanks dad.”

“No problem Riz. Just… make sure you don’t come visit again for a long while?... at least outside of normal consultant stuff at least.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Fighting back the incursion had been tough without his weapons but at least he still had claws and teeth that he could fight back with. When the last demon fled back through the rift Riz was left exhausted, covered in gore and with a newfound appreciation for his wings which gave him a bit of an edge when it came to getting into a good position to rip out taller creatures throats.

He was only able to bask in the satisfaction of a fight well fought for all of six seconds though, Fabian dropping Fandrangor to the ground as he scooped the goblin up in a hug that could crush ribs. Riz happily throwing his arms around his neck and hugging back with just as much enthusiasm.

“What the fuck Riz, I take a nap for three hours and you go and get yourself killed? Ridiculous.” The half elf huffed, smoothing his hands along Riz’s back and tucking him more securely against his front as he turned to convene with the rest of their party.

“Sorry. It was an accident. Would have been fine if someone hadn’t fucked up my paperwork up here.” Riz purred happily, not caring that he was getting Fabian covered in demon ichor as he was hauled over to Kristen. Their cleric elbow deep in his briefcase as she pulled out a blanket wrapped bundle and placed it gently on the floor. Unwrapping it just enough that it wasn’t so tightly bound but keeping the sheet draped over the top so he wasn’t visible underneath.

“Oh… that’s my corpse. That is… deeply unsettling.” Riz winced, glad that he couldn’t really see past the sheet that had been left draped over his body. Seeing his own seven-day rotting remains would not be good for his psyche.

“NOT going to be a corpse in a minute.” Kristen reached over to pat his head when Fabian sat down next to her, their cleric reaching into her pocket with her other hand to withdraw a massive purse full of diamonds and slam it on the ground next to the head of the body before her.

“I am going to do this until it FUCKING STICKS this time. OKAY. Riz Gukgak. You are currently available and willing to be resurrected yes?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. Fair warning, this is going to take a while and you are going to feel like shit afterwards. Raise dead is going to leave you exhausted for a while afterwards.”

Kristen reached into the bag for a diamond with one hand, holding it up as she touched Riz’s body with her staff and started the spell. As soon as the staff touched his chest Riz felt something tug at the core of his being. He didn’t resist, letting his consciousness blank out and following the pull as everything went black for what felt like a few seconds.

Riz had to admit, when he next opened his eyes, that Kristen was not lying about how awful he would feel upon being resurrected. The goblin groaning and throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light because everything hurt. He assumed it had worked though, not just because of the sheer exhaustion he was feeling right now but also because of the delighted exclamations of his teammates around him. The goblin huffing tiredly flicking his tail when Fabian picked him up again and held him against his front, Riz dropping his head onto his shoulder and making an unhappy hissing noise at the movement.

“Uuuuugh fuck. Ow? You weren’t kidding. How long will this take to go away?”

“Four long rests. Sorry.” Kristen pat his back soothingly, Riz absently noting that he didn’t have wings there any more and feeling a little sad for their loss. Oh well.

“Gods. Okay that’s going to suck.” He yawned, squinting his eyes open to blink at the ship still lodged in the dimensional tear behind them. “Speaking of sucking… did any of you tell my mom that I died or is that something I’m going to have to do when we get home?”

“Oh fuck… sorry dude we totally forgot.”

[thenexusofsouls]

"Yeah, it would be wild... in all the wrong ways," Wade said. "Better that, though, I guess, than... than losin' your kid entirely..." And just like that, he had kindof a moment with himself. His head shook a little as he tried to get rid of the thought. What would his and Rose's kid been like? Would she even have let him be a part of its life? If Crenshaw had lived, would Rose have wanted to raise the kid with him instead? He'd never know... 'cause Crenshaw, Rose, and the baby were all dead because of his catastrophic failure as a leader and a friend. Wade cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway..." he whispered.

"I'm definitely not the ideal candidate for 'dad,' that's for sure. I guess it couldn't hurt to try at some point, but... not with my life the way it is now. I don't wanna be the reason my kid grows up angry at the world because he had a shitty childhood, you know? It's a big deal, bein' a parent. If I don't think I can do it right, then I'm not gonna do it," Wade said firmly. That it was important to him was plain to see.

Wade felt so badly for Rockland. Clearly, he was a great kid. Good head on his shoulders. Some issues, but all good kids had a sprinkling of those. To hear him say he kept messing up all the time made Wade sad, because that wasn't coming from him, it was coming from someone who kept telling him that. "Sounds like a problem with whoever's sayin' that, not you. So what if you keep messin' up? Mistakes are important in life, man. That's how people learn things. That's how we find out what not to do, and how not to conduct ourselves. Every kid makes mistakes and screws things up, they're still learnin' shit. If someone keeps harpin' on that like it's somehow unacceptable or somethin' out of the ordinary, sounds like their hang up, not yours."

He knew well, though, how powerless kids were sometimes to help themselves. They only had so much agency and then it was up to the parents, the guardians, the relatives, etc. to be the teachers and protectors. If those people dropped the ball or were abusive, kids couldn't do much about that most often. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'd say you could come stay with me, but I think that's call child abduction in most states," he said by way of a little levity, since the boy looked so downtrodden. "But hey... I'm probably gonna stick around in this city for a while. If you ever need help, you need a place to stay overnight, you need a little cash to get by... you can always ask me, okay? It won't fix everything, I know, but maybe it'll take the edge off to know you've got a safety net, right?"

Wade let Rockland look at the photo as long as he wanted before putting it back into his wallet. "Yeah, they were. They were really good people who didn't deserve to die like that," Wade said stoically. "That photo was as painful as it was somethings he could never part with.

He tried his best to answer the boy's question without getting too dark again. "Yeah, I had the most experience out of all of 'em. We uh... Sometimes when you go after bail jumpers, things get ugly. They run, they fight back, sometimes there's guns or knives or explosives involved, so we had our own weapons and tactical gear and all that. We functioned like a military unit, and I was like their officer. Ronnie and me, we were actually retired military, so we had more formal training, and we helped make sure everybody else knew how to use all the weapons and equipment, everybody understood the laws and what we were allowed to do, all that stuff. I researched the jobs, I made the plans, and out in the field, I gave the orders, and everybody had their part. Sometimes time and safety were an issue, so we had to be a well-oiled machine, you know? And we were, I thought. 'Til I went and fucked it all up. They did what I said, no questions asked. I demanded it of 'em. I ran a tight ship. And I got 'em all killed."

"Opera? Get the hell outta here, what're you talkin' about, opera..." Wade said, laughing more. "Do I look like I'd belt out an aria to you? Nah, man, I'm all about rock. Classic rock, that's where it's at. What about you, what kinda music're you into?"

When Rockland whipped out his own family photograph, Wade nodded. "Nice. Is that you in there?" he asked, pointing to the woman's belly. "That's nice that you carry that with you like that. It's important to remember loved ones. It keeps us grounded, right? It's not good to go around with your head stuck in the clouds." He'd meant that as a real sentiment, but then, feeling things were getting a bit heavy, he tried to lighten the mood once more. "Foggy clouds in your face... gettin' rained on... every now and then a migratin' goose flies at your head, you get hit upside the head with goose ass, it's just not good to keep your head up there."

Well that caught their attention alright. A middle finger had shot into the air, directed at a group of teens across the street who were hovering by a Duncan Donuts long closed for the night. The boy beneath the hoodie, propelling said finger, sneered. Just like that, the group of five moved towards him, the tallest, Shacks, sauntering forward with an irritating air of confidence. And to think, there'd been a time when Rockland had thought he was cool.

"You can't seriously blame us, Rocky." He looked to the others with cruel amusement, "It was a prank, get a sense of hum-" Too busy searching for the favour of his crew, he'd missed the draw of the younger teen's fist before it met his cheek.

"Prank my ass, I could've been arres-oof." Rockland was tackled by Archie, the smallest of the bunch, who was about a head shorter than he was, but kinda stalky for his age, and with the element of surprise on his side. Cane clattering out of hand, and across the sidewalk, the lanky teen scraped across the pavement, electric pain radiating up from his tailbone. He caught the breath that had been knocked out of him just in time to catch the thump of a fist to the nose in return. - For Wade

Wade didn't know what to make of this city yet. He'd only been here a couple days and was still trying to get his bearings. It wasn't a bad city, he thought, just cold. Just... really cold when you're alone, like all cities are. Nevertheless, Wade did some hunting and stocked up on other supplies, always wanting to stay on the move. That's how he got jobs, and that's how he kept sane.

Tonight had been quiet enough so far... that is until he heard sounds of a fight. But a fight... between kids? Was he hearing this right? Wade made his way toward the sounds, and sure enough, some kids whose parents were absent and whose bedtimes must be fast-approaching were going at it. Or rather, several kids were beating up on one unfortunate one.

"Hey! Come on, cut it out, what the hell're you guys doin'?!" Wade yelled, hoping to scatter the bullies. "You know better than this, get off him! Don't make me call the cops!" he said, watching as they all scattered... save for one. Wade knelt down beside the boy lying on the ground. "Hey, buddy, you okay?" he asked gently.

[gambeque]

i wanna write a fanfic i think

[lisbonsteresa]

oh it's horrible; i love it

[disabled-queer-culture-is]

Disabled culture is going to see a doctor about a new medical scare and being able to predict exactly what they’re going to suggest, because it’s the exact same thing every doctor tells you for everything

[ravioliet]

actually elaborating on this here because it's really funny to me

so yeah before becoming alicorns Olive is a unicorn and Otto is a pegasus, and after they get promoted there's a period of time where they haven't really learned how to deal with the alicorn stuff yet so Otto can't do much magic and keeps messing up spells and Olive can't actually fly and is kinda clumsy with her wings (she usually just keeps them folded so they don't cause any problems). they're both trying to help each other learn but they're. not very good at it.

Olive has been doing magic for too long and can't really remember how she learned it as a beginner, or at least she can't really remember it well enough to teach it, and while Otto can remember exactly how he learned to fly when he was younger it was under some weird silly circumstances that aren't really something that he could replicate with Olive (someone startled little younger Otto hard enough that he jumped straight up in the air like a frightened cat and didn't fall back down again because his wings kicked in. he tried to do this on Olive at one point to see if it would work and got whacked in the face by her wing instead because she leans more towards fight than flight) but they're both trying their best. kind of. Otto keeps coming up with other insane ideas to try and teach Olive to fly, the main one that he keeps suggesting being that maybe if she gets thrown off the balcony she'll figure it out like a baby bird. Olive of course shuts this idea down every time he brings it up. the whole thing is a very good bonding experience for them though, it definitely keeps them close with each other through the whole transition and everything i think :)

drawing the silly characters as ponies again to abate the horrors!! anyways here’s Oscar (FINALLY DESIGNED HIM YAYY) and a bunch of Olive doodles plus one Otto because they’re so so silly. can they lend me some of their whimsy please

also shoutout to Oscar for inventing all science that was pretty cool of him

[elliscousland]

i'm going to break down why this song works so well for ellis & morrigan very, very soon.

[ilikekidsshows]

Actually, yeah, that's clearly the difference between how I view Marinette's social-emotional skills and what others are saying: I think Marinette had poor social-emotional skills even before the retool.

The way I see it, Marinette has always acted like a coddled teen. There’s a reason so many of my examples of Marinette’s parents came from the pre-retool show, and why my description of Marinette as someone who can't handle stress, can't handle setbacks and considers her problems the most important problems, no matter how minor applies to Marinette's original characterization as well as the retooled Marinette.

Marinette used to do almost all of the stuff she does now, but to a lesser extent and she used to make up for it afterwards. Teenagers lean towards self-centeredness because their sense of self and identity is going through rapid development, but Marinette has always been very single-minded about this, and her poor skills in relating to others make her easily trample on other people's feelings. Of course, part of this was the original show's format of wanting to teach a lesson through Marinette's mistakes, but that's exactly what makes her relatable to kids with poor social-emotional skills; she's also learning.

Basically, being too preoccupied with herself has always been a weakness of Marinette’s; she has to see another person get upset before she realizes she did something to hurt them. The difference is that, before the retool, Marinette used to realize that she should make up for what she did wrong and then did so. After the retool Marinette’s reaction to her mistakes is to double down, make excuses or cry about what a terrible person she is and how bad she feels until she gets vindicated. The change in Marinette's character is in how much she thinks she should take responsibility for her mistakes.

Ever since the beginning, Marinette's gotten constant praise as Ladybug; everyone always tells her she’s the best, did everything right and is always correct about everything. At worst, her actions lead to “different consequences”. In addition to this, she has all the power and control in the hero team dynamics, making everyone else inferior to her. This has clearly gone to her head, so now she no longer sees her own mistakes as mistakes, because she’s the greatest Ladybug ever who can do no wrong and everyone else is just a pawn in her great master plans. She has no sense of accountability. She will over-blame herself when she gets caught messing up royally, but only until someone absolves her of guilt and then she takes no steps to avoid making that same mistake in the future, because she wasn't really at fault, she was told she wasn't.

Consider the Kagami bullying arc. In 'Ikari Gozen', Marinette accepts she was wrong about Kagami and had no right to interfere with her the way she did. She does go back to it briefly in 'Love Hunter' in a moment of weakness, but overall she accepts that sabotaging Kagami isn't right. If this story had happened post-retool, I have no doubt the conclusion to 'Ikari Gozen' would have been Marinette crying about how she's a horrible person and as bad as Chloé to Kagami, with Kagami saying something like: "You are much kinder than Chloé. You just love Adrien. In fact, clearly your love for Adrien is much deeper and purer than mine. I will gladly step down so that you can be with your soulmate."

Post-retool Marinette can’t be wrong about anything, so she never really accepts fault. She makes a big deal about how bad she feels, but only to people who will instantly appease, comfort and forgive her, and she never makes up for what she did wrong or even tries to avoid making the same mistakes. And that’s what makes her previously acceptable and understandable personal weaknesses into absolutely grating character flaws. The somewhat-coddled normal girl is now a spoiled brat and a terror boss, not because she lost her social skills, but because she lost her sense of accountability.

It's very ironic. The girl who whines about how she has too many responsibilities and she can't handle it accepts no responsibility for her own actions.

This is a longer one, sorry 😅

About that ask you replied to about Marinette's parents. I didn't grow up in a healthy household and i struggle to form a properly informed opinion on Marinette's parents in all this mess.

Cause clearly they are very loving, caring, and supportive, but they aren't perfect either. They are realistically human. They have blind spots, didnt actually RAISE her apparently when she does things wrong, and hardly give Marinette any boundaries or consequences to face, which now evolved into her neither being able to handle anything not going her way nor having to actually take people into consideration and go through with improving on the things she said she should.

Im pretty sure Marinette was a very friendly child who didn't cause too many problems, if at all, so now that she's a complicated teenager who actually needs some boundaries and discipline they dont know how to handle it. Thats the picture im getting. Not to mention that they don't know Marinette is Ladybug so they have no idea what's caused all these extreme changes in their daughter and how to accommodate to properly help her.

But in my eyes, without the whole Ladybug thing, this is still a pretty normal and realistic portrayal of a modern family, so Marinette is simply a normal ass kid. She's clearly spoiled to a solid degree and emotionally shielded the way most middle class kids from central Europe are. Just because her family isn't perfect doesn't it mean she's being abused or her parents are bad. For me, they are a realistic healthy family. Whatever faults her parents have are pretty common things parents do wrong.

But this now raises the question for me how exactly to go about Marinette's family. Obviously her parents didn't to everything right in their parenting, so those flaws of Marinette can be traced back to them while Marinette at the same time SHOULD normally STILL be asked to grow out of it the way any normal teenager should, it's just slightly more challenging.

But then I see discussions that take it way too far imo but I don't know where exactly to draw the line.

It is correct that Tom and Sabine for example seem to know very little about their daughter's friend group to the point that they just let Sabrina into Marinette's room. The common argument I see being raised here is that Sabine is neglective because she doesn't know that Sabrina isn't Marinette's friend.

Now this doesn't feel quite right to me. Marinette's parents seem to be pretty much unaware that their daughter was bullied in school which unfortunately isn't at all uncommon. When the parents are neither told by the child or the school, then how are they supposed to know? The most they seem to know is that Marinette has a hard time with Chloé, but I never had the impression that they know how serious this was. Marinette sure was never shown to ever voice any of that.

So Sabine thinking Sabrina is Marinette's friend is a fair enough assumption in my eyes. I remember back when I was 12-13, forming friendship in a collective class is alot easier when you're a kid. Kids just go with the flow like that and become friends in 10 seconds even if they aren't spending much time with each other directly. Forming connections tends gets more difficult as one grows older.

I don't think at that age parents can be faulted for not keeping track of all their kid's friendships. Sabrina running up to Sabine and claiming she's Marinette's friend and Sabine believing her is honestly nothing too special.

What I take issue with, though, is that Sabine just let Sabrina go into Marinette's room ALONE. That a parent, imo, truly shouldn't do.

And yet, one still wouldn't call her a BAD parent for that, right? It's very flawed, but obviously Marinette also continues to rely on her parents doing that with the amount of times Alya just gets to come and go however she please, even with Marinette not being there, despite Marinette knowing Alya merely year at this point. Way less than Sabrina for example.

There is this persistent grey area here that I can't quite place. Marinette's parents are very obviously very trusting, but the way the show portrays it seems to border on neglective imo, but it's based in their daughter just getting free reign most of the time so Marinette can do shit in her room and leave for long periods of time for example that parents should normally check on their kids for.

So, at the same time, is it actually neglect? Thanks to being Ladybug, it is Marinette who has pulled more and more away from her parents and since season 4 is doing so to honestly very unnecessary degrees. There is little reason for why Marinette constantly locks herself and Alya into her room and doesn't spend much time with her parents when all that Marinette is doing in there is panicking and not doing something actually productive most of the time anyway. You may as well just spend time with your parents instead of crying to Alya that you supposedly CANT (while taking over Alya's life and being the actual reason why SHE cant)

Teenagers at Marinette's age starting to pull away from their parents is nothing uncommon. So I'm pretty sure that's just how it looks like for her parents. Marinette is starting to grow up and doesn't prioritize spending time or sharing her life with them as much anymore.

Can't pretend like that's not a sad truth parents have to deal with, so the kid's friends are trusted by the parents to know their kid in ways they don't anymore.

Marinette has very loving and caring parents who don't push her to involve them or share what she doesn't want to. Now here is the question. While this is neglective to a degree and Marinette does seem to be affected badly by it, is this necessarily something her parents are doing objectively WRONG? From their perspective, their daughter is growing up and so busy that they aren't much of a priority in her life. She's pulling more and more away and her parents try to adjust to that supportively without being given context as any parent must.

Clearly the created distance has Marinette now incorrectly believe that her parents aren't actually a real support system anymore, the way Marinette didnt even try to reach out in Kwamis Choice and her thinking she has lost EVERYTHING at the end of season 4 and then proceeding to act like she doesn't think she truly has anyone or anything in season 5 too.

Now, is Marinette thinking that she has NOTHING at the end of season 4, and still seeming to think so in season 5, something her parents failed at teaching her better?

When a kid starts pulling away from their supportive family, because they are so used to having them, and ends up convincing themselves that their parents dont count anymore as support because it isnt as perfect and easy as they'd like, is this a failure of the parents for not sitting their child down to remind them that the kid isn't the emotional equivalent of an orphan now the moment they have to do something alone?

Or is this simply a normal thing a teenager has to realize on their own? That just because the loving parents aren't a perfect support system anymore, doesn't it mean the kid just gets to disregard them fully as an option the way Marinette constantly does?

Because, well, this IS what it constantly feels like for me when it comes to Marinette.

When Marinette takes offense with her parents not unconditionally believing her all the time, is it really always her parents fault for not having raised her to handle push back better, or is it also just a natural part of growing up that you have to get over yourself and realize that your parents too need context for the situations you're in (e.g. Adoration) because growing up means you're parents shouldn't just handwave all the accountability away you potentially have to take now because you're not an 8 year old anymore and capable of genuine wrongdoing?

Yes, her parents definitely failed a solid bit in regards of leaving Marinette emotionally immature and unprepared when it comes to pushback, criticism, or considerations of others.

But to what degree are her parents actually WRONG in wanting Marinette to learn it for herself now because that's normally how it done?

Do her parents REALLY have to sit her 14-15 year old ass down and teach her that other people have feelings and lives of their own? That reality exists outside of her head and feelings? Or should a teenager be expected to learn that themselves, especially one that's so busy and involved in everything as Marinette? Cause it actually seems to me that her being Ladybug caused her stunted development in this regard. Because being Ladybug always serves as the right excuse to always demand and expect the others to do the learning cause she's "too stressed" and "too justified as leader who doesn't owe anyone anything, but is owed everything herself cause she says so".

It's seems that it's rather that being Ladybug caused the damage in Marinette's development which her parent can't know about, and not that her parents are particularly failing by not holding their daughter's hand all through growing up even more to spoon-feed her every bit of development she should grow into now to make sure its as pleasant and easy as possible?

In my opinion, from teenage age onwards it's not the parents' job to tell their children at any uncomfortable or challenging occasion what's right and wrong and do all the work in the child's personal development into a young adult. And isn't that what Marinette's parents are being criticised for anyway? That they don't let their daughter face disappointment, discipline, and struggles because it makes her upset? But now they are in the wrong for wanting to have their daughter learn and figure things out in their own, but fully intend on always being there for her in every way when she needs it?

There definitely IS a complicated grey area here where these two parenting styles badly overlapped and caused problems.

Tom and Sabine DO give Marinette way too much free reign cause it badly clashes with how little discipline, rules, boundaries, and consideration she was raised to actually having to oblige to as part of living with other people.

Marinette was not well prepared for the freedom she now has, but looking at it in general, the problem seems much more to be Marinette being Ladybug, and not necessarily that she's a teenager who lacks refined emotional intelligence because she grew up shielded and cuddled. If Marinette had a normal life, she would have some more trouble growing out of it, but it's not like her parents ruined her.

I think it's that Marinette is Ladybug that is to blame here. Because that's how she was put in a position where she learned that she just needs to stomp her foot, scream, cry, or use her titel to make it so that it's always everyone else who has to do the learning and not her. Marinette's concerning entitlement grew through being Ladybug and not tolerating anything but having all the support, resources, and everyone beneath her in the hierarchy who must submit to her will or else she cant function.

Whatever problems her parents caused in her upbringing should have been easy enough to grow out of. It's LADYBUG who stunted that development because Marinette learned that she has the option to just demand that everyone has to cater to her instead. That is not her parents fault, but it always leaves me at the same problem of not knowing how to properly dissect and discuss what blame Tom and Sabine objectively have in this.

---

This is a very insightful and interesting essay, Anon. When it comes to Marinette’s parents, it's really hard to call them “bad parents”, because they're really good at many things that come to parenting. They're supportive, they respect Marinette's space and privacy, they believe in her ability to handle herself and Marinette clearly feels safe with them. And you're also right that it's extremely difficult for them to guide Marinette learning social-emotional skills now that she's a willful teenager and wouldn't be receptive to her parents “correcting her behavior” if they even knew there was something to correct.

I also don't think Marinette's parents can see all the issues with Marinette’s conduct. She is a very “easy” child; she's polite, she respects authority and doesn't get into purposeful mischief. She's the exact kind of child adults don't worry about, so they don't have to constantly keep an eye on her. Especially since a lot of her problems come to the forefront as Ladybug, a whole new part of her life her parents aren’t involved in.

The thing here is that 14-year-olds not knowing that other people have feelings or how to deal with disappointments is exactly why early childhood education is now emphasizing the teaching of these skills so much. For a long time, there was a belief that kids learn social-emotional skills naturally and there's no need to purposefully teach them, because kids will “get it” when they're “old enough to understand”. Except that we have now discovered that they don't, in fact, just naturally “get it”. These skills need to be taught in early childhood, starting from simple ideas like “your friend is crying because you took their toy, don’t do that again” and moving up from there. And the only way to teach these things in a purposeful way is to put your small kids with other small kids and let them do small kid things, even if it results in someone ending up crying, especially if someone ends up crying, because learning to deal with your own emotional responses and other people having emotional reactions to your actions is, in fact, an essential life and relationship skill. The theory of mind (the understanding that other people have thoughts and feelings that can differ from your own) is something that preschoolers are expected to learn and should get support in learning if they don't.

I’m saying Marinette should already know this stuff. Her parents and possible kindergarten teacher should have taught her almost a decade ago.

However, I don’t disagree with your assertion that being Ladybug is why these common problems with Marinette’s conduct are such a big issue for her relationships now. Because her upbringing neglected to teach her essential social-emotional skills, and she’s been shoved into a position of not just power, but absolute power where no one is in a position to question her, she’s now a nightmare boss who expects everyone else to be fully committed to making the broken system she’s running run smoothly while she comes up with some nonsense project to keep busy so that she has the excuse to take her frustrations out on everyone beneath her.

If Marinette was just constantly ditching her friends so that she could do something relating to her love quest, I’m pretty sure the most severe, realistic consequences for her friends would just be them thinking she doesn’t want to hang out, feeling bummed and no longer inviting her. Marinette being in a position of leadership both exacerbates her social-emotional ineptitude and makes its consequences more severe, because now they’re facing dangerous situations and the leadership only doesn’t care if they get hurt, but sometimes actively hurts them for the sake of achieving some other goal in the future.

We must consider that Marinette has been Ladybug for only a year, while her parents have raised her since birth. Anything being Ladybug has taught Marinette was learned on the basis her parents gave her. I don’t think this is an either-or situation. Now that she's an independent teenager, of course her parents expect her to pull away, be private and figure things out on her own. What Marinette is doing wrong now is on her, because she's the one taking on all these responsibilities, leaving others in the dark, not consulting anyone who doesn't just appease her and making decisions for others. However, this being her go-to approach shows us that her parents failed her in the past.

I think Marinette's parents are doing everything right for an older child, but I also think they were very out of their depth when Marinette was a small child. She clearly wasn't taught this stuff that has to be taught at an early age because she's now a teenager and seems to have no clue how interpersonal relationships work. Of course she's still too young to understand everything, especially romance, but she lacks basic understanding of mutual friendship as well. It just really feels like Marinette's parents have never had any expectations for her, even when she was a small child throwing a fit when she didn't get her way.

[ozlices]

i genuinely sincerely cant believe i was called a manipulative person with a victim complex by a person who acted like my savior for "rescuing" me from that house, only to have zero remorse abt kicking me back into it. esp throwing it on me a singular month after i endured even more trauma in that house. like. bruh i literally have zero idea how to even begin to process this.

[melzula]

well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?

zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?

i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂

a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!

summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends

“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”

“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.

“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.

Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.

“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.

You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.

“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”

“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”

“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”

“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.

“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.

“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.

“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.

“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”

“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”

After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.

“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.

“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”

“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.

You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. (final part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)

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.

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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