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zara-renata · 18 days ago

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The right hand, the left hand, the heart of Sylus Qin | ao3 | fanfic masterlist

Summary: Sylus meets with his legal counsel while the twins give you a tour of the base, you wake up from a dream, Sylus wastes some eggs, you attempt to get to know Sylus better, and you have your first 'date' with Sylus Qin. Part 16 of the Sylus series.

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV, some Sylus POV They/them pronouns used to describe reader, meant as a placeholder for your preferred pronouns slow-burn friends-to-lovers This story contains: a lot of fluff and patient, tender Sylus, despite the following: MC questioning their sanity, MC with self-esteem issues, MC in the death-throes of fear-driven denial regarding the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Sylus has been interested in them this entire fucking time, Aidan antics, twin antics, a little self-induced MC angst, mentions of violence, profanity, alcohol use, discussions of gray morality

Sylus lets his bedroom door shut behind him, leaving you to dress, preparing to leave you in Luke and Kieran’s hands. His heart—so long an empty cavern, echoing the rapid-fire rhythm of its beat—clenches, jams. You’re just on the other side of the door, and you’re already too far.

The twins are leaning against the hallway wall on either side of the door. As he steps out, their heads snap up.

He pauses. “Show kitten around the base, wherever they want to go. Finish the tour with the guest wing.”

Kieran straightens. “Why the guest wing? Is your hunter not staying in your room?” He’s still hoarse from the previous night, and Sylus makes a mental note to get him some throat lozenges. It was your feral kitten who hurt him, after all, although it’s arguably also Kieran and Luke’s own fault for approaching a seasoned warrior in a notoriously dangerous area like a couple of serial killers. Which the twins are, but not in the typical sense of the term.

“Kitten hasn’t decided where to stay yet,” Sylus answers, secure in the knowledge that you will choose him. But he is serious about wanting to at least offer you the choice—of rooms. Because even if you choose another room to stay in, he intends to find his way there at the end of every day. You sleep much better when he’s around, after all. Even then, you’ll still have a choice—you can always try to kick him off the bed again. He’ll just sleep on the floor.

“Do you want us to fix that?” Luke asks hopefully. “We can flood that floor if you want. Whoops, all the rooms are out of order!” he feigns surprise, poorly.

Sylus snorts. “I have a feeling that if you tried to flood only the one floor, the whole base will end up underwater.”

“Is that a no?” Luke looks disappointed.

“That’s a no,” Kieran answers for Sylus. “Understood. We’ll show them all the entertainment options we have to incentivize a long stay, before we show them the guest rooms.”

Sylus nods. “Call me, if it looks like kitten is getting overwhelmed. Their last stay here… had unintended consequences.”

“Oh you mean when you starved them and forced them to resonate with you and threatened to leave them to die?” Luke asks, counting on his fingers and tilting his head.

Sylus sighs. “Yes, Luke. That’s what I mean.”

“Okay, then we’ll tell them all about how awesome you are so that they forget that you can also be a massive asshole,” Luke perks up.

Sylus just looks at him for a moment. Even with his aether core, it took him a while to get used to Luke’s particular brand of practical, blunt straightforwardness. So few people speak to Sylus with such raw honesty and fearlessness that spending time with Luke is always a refreshing palate cleanser after enduring meeting after meeting with intimidated, simpering fools who would turn around and slit Sylus’s throat if given half a chance. He tells himself that’s the only reason he tolerates such insubordination from this half of his right-hand man.

“Oh, that’s a sound plan Luke, well thought!” Kieran agrees, pleased with his other half.

“Just give them the tour and keep them company until I’m done.” Sylus learned long ago that attempting to corral the twins’ machinations is usually fruitless, but clear instructions tend to keep the fallout from being too disastrous.

The young men nod in unison. Sylus considers continuing to take his sweet time to get to his office, just to further infuriate the undoubtedly seething Aidan who is waiting for him. But then he remembers the last time he had to wade through a bunch of barking human beings at one of Aidan’s munches. He sniffs. He’d much rather get business over with and get back to you as quickly as possible. If Sylus wasn’t already keenly aware of how much your presence in his life is already changing him, he’d realize it now as he swallows his pettiness and teleports to his office, instead of making Aidan wait out of principle.

As he re-materializes in his office, Aidan turns from looking at the wall where a majority of Aidan’s fountain pens have ended up embedded, forming the image of a large happy face.

“How surprising that you didn’t throw them in the pattern of a skull emoji—” Aidan begins, until black-red tendrils materialize around his ankles and sweep him off his feet. They hold him dangling, headfirst. He lets out a little delighted squeal that makes Sylus wince.

“If you’re trying to discourage my insubordination in front of your paramour that you’re undoubtedly about to ream me for, I’m afraid it’s having the opposite effect,” his legal counsel grins happily, wriggling against the evol restraints.

Sylus comes to a stop in front of him so that they’re face to upside-down face, his thumbs hooked casually in his sleep pants pockets.

“Oh, I am aware,” he says in disgust. “But despite your interrupting a very pleasant moment with kitten, I feel that I owe you an apology for making you miss knitting club. So enjoy my mercy before we get down to business.”

“And people say you’re a monster,” Aidan continues grinning dopily at him.

“People are fools,” Sylus tsks. “Oh, before I forget. Speaking of interrupting my moment with kitten… they say that if you ever call them kitten again, they’ll tear out your tongue and make you eat it.”

Aidan’s eyebrows shoot up… or down, depending on your perspective. “They said that?”

Sylus considers lying, but he doesn’t want to mischaracterize you or your words to anyone. “Not the part about forcing you to eat it,” he admits. “But if kitten doesn’t, I’ll make you.”

Aidan just laughs. “I don’t believe your empty threats. My tongue’s too expensive for you to waste like that. Still… removing my tongue, huh,” he continues thoughtfully. “No wonder you’re so obsessed.”

Sylus turns, leisurely making his way to his desk as the evol tendrils bind Aidan’s wrists behind his back, jerk him upright, and then toss him onto one of the black leather couches in the office’s sitting area. They dissipate as Aidan snickers a little breathlessly.

“First the happy face. Now giving me a little treat instead of a lecture. I’ve never seen you in such a good mood.” Instead of sitting up like a proper employee showing deference to his employer, Aidan just stretches languidly across the couch and props his head up on a fist. “Although I’m still pissed that this is how you treat my pens,” he frowns, jerking his head back toward the impaled wall.

“I pay you enough to purchase all the pens you could ever want, plus the factory that makes them.” Sylus sits down at his desk, slouching behind the paperwork still strewn haphazardly over it that he abandoned after receiving the call from Luke informing him that you were running from him again.

“But what you do not pay me enough for is missing knitting club. The grandmas are going to give me hell the next time I go,” Aidan grumbles.

“I’m sure you can handle it,” Sylus drawls. “Now, if you’re done whining, let’s get through this so that I can get back to kitten.”

Aidan lets out a dramatic sigh and sits up, as if the effort is utterly exhausting. “Have you had a chance to look at the latest draft?”

Sylus flicks the messy stack of papers with his fingers and they go sailing with his evol to Aidan’s lap. Aidan lifts one page, a look of disdain on his face as he holds it so that he can look at Sylus through the neat hole punctured in it as a result of Sylus’s boredom with the pen.

“That’s what I think of the latest draft,” Sylus says.

Aidan tsks. “Good, that was my feeling as well. But you didn’t have to mutilate the damn thing.” He gathers the pages, trying to put them in order. “After I’m finished reprinting it,” he sighs dramatically again. “I’ll redline it and get it to them this week.”

Sylus just nods, staring out into the night through his office’s wall of windows. It’s not too foggy, so the N109 Zone’s skyline glitters menacingly, an undersea predator luring prey in the dark.

“Next order of business: FJB group’s CEO is hounding me again to arrange a face-to-face with you. He’s getting… aggressive.”

“Hardly surprising, considering the type of entitled scumbag he is,” Sylus scoffs. “I’m not interested in his offer. Keep ignoring him.”

“Sylus, I don’t think he’s the type of guy who will simply get the hint and slink back to his hole. Doing nothing will only embolden him.”

“Embolden him to do what? If he doesn’t get the message and tries to approach you directly, just eliminate him. I do not have the patience right now to play games with him.” He has much more interesting things to focus on, now that you’re in his bed, in his home, just down the hall. And this time he’s certain you’re right down the hall, and not sprinting through the night like a panicked deer. A deer capable of taking down wolves, but still, a deer all the same.

“That’s a bad call, and you know it,” Aidan argues. “He is strong enough to have an exclusive grip on the flesh trade. If you remove him, ten other would-be heads of the hydra will sprout and it will destabilize the Zone.That means more collateral damage.”

“An exclusive grip that he has only because I allow it,” Sylus snorts. “And what, more collateral damage than the people he traffics?”

Aidan gapes at him. “What has gotten into you? This is the reality of humanity. People are not going to stop exploiting each other, no matter how much of an iron fist you wield. The only thing you can do is ensure that you think strategically enough to minimize the inevitable harm.”

Sylus frowns. That is indeed what he has always thought. The depravity of humanity is such that eradication of human suffering is impossible, and no one person can save the world. People can hardly save themselves. Sylus himself has learned that lesson the hard way, over and over. It’s not his responsibility to save everyone. That is something that this version of you simply does not understand, and you’re vulnerable because of it. Someday, if Sylus doesn’t stop you, you’re going to get yourself killed because of your misguided sense of duty to strangers whose fate is being born to suffer. But knowing this version of you… thinking about how hard you take every loss, the way your already broken heart is chiseled further with every person you can’t save… his own assault rifle heart jams again.

The CEO of the FJB Group is just the type of person Sylus thinks you’d like to bathe your feet in the blood of, even if you hate admitting that to yourself. Sylus would happily string him up, field dress him like the pathetic prey he is, and let his corpse drain for your bathing pleasure.

But since you’re still having a hard time admitting that yourself, he’s worried that if he does, you might get mad. And Aidan’s right. If he kills this fuck, ten others will try to claw their way up to take the empty throne.

“Noted. Just keep ignoring him. If he still won’t take no for an answer, let me know.” Aidan looks relieved, until he continues. “But I’m going to rely on you more for the next few weeks. Handle everything you can without bothering me, unless you want to contact me in a personal capacity. Things are settled enough after cleaning house—I want to focus on personal matters for the foreseeable future.”

Aidan jerks to his feet but takes a deep breath. He begins to pace, hands folded behind his back. Sylus appreciates his self control, as he knows that his litigator’s instinct is to immediately counter-argue his disagreement.

He stops, turns to Sylus, huffs.

“Speak,” Sylus orders, lifting an eyebrow. Seeing Aidan flustered is always amusing, but Sylus is impatient to get back to you. Maybe he’ll be done quick enough to take over the tour himself.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? The risks…” Aidan begins, uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Whether it’s a good idea or not, it’s happening. The whole reason I’m here is finally in my bed. Everything else is secondary.”

Aidan looks pained. “I still don’t understand your single-minded fixation on this one person. This one person who happens to be a Deepspace Hunter, whose job mandate is to hunt you, in particular, and bring you down. There are literally thousands of other people in the world who would probably be thrilled to be in your bed. Why limit yourself to one, and to one who poses such a risk to everything you’ve built? To your very life?”

“Not all of us have such a low threshold for amusement that just anyone in their bed will do, like you,” Sylus clicks his tongue.

“It’s not about a low threshold of amusement. It’s being open to the possibility that each person you meet is a gift, containing an entire world, and the pleasure is opening the box to see what’s inside,” Aidan retorts, “You’re just a snob, and refuse to acknowledge that other people have rich inner lives, just like you do.”

“Save me your idealistic speeches about free love and the beauty of the human spirit. How you can come from where you’re from, handle the shit you handle in your line of work, openly acknowledge that humans are scum, and yet still enjoy them like little snowflake gift boxes, is simply beyond me.”

“I’m full of imagination,” Aidan sniffs.

‘You’re full of bullshit. You’re just easily bored and like to fuck,” Sylus baits him, knowing that Aidan is actually sincere.

“Excuse you!” Aidan does not disappoint. “How dare you—and what an accusation, coming from you, the man who can get bored in the middle of murdering someone. How do you even know that your obsession can retain your interest in the long run?” Aidan lobs back.

Sylus just smiles, with teeth. His fascination with you was already gigantic before he laid eyes on you again. It has only grown, the longer he gets to spend time with you. Your mix of strength and fragility. The unpredictability of your pleasure and your anxiety. Your blood thirst and your compassion. How can he ever get bored, when he has no idea what the next expression on your face will be? When he has no idea how you’ll manage to misinterpret the obviousness of his devotion to you, his endless patience, his worship?

“Oh god, never make that face again. I’m going to be sick. You’re so in love and I hate it,” Aidan gags exaggeratedly, like a cat hacking up a hairball.

“Then don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” Sylus advises.

Aidan hangs his head for a moment, hands on his hips. When he lifts it, he looks more serious than Sylus has seen him in awhile. “Joking aside, Sylus. How do you know that if things go south between you, the hunter won’t turn on you? This is a huge risk not only to you, but everyone you care about in this organization if you’re taken out.”

Sylus sits heavily back in his chair. He spins it a little, from side to side, as he thinks of how best to answer in a way that Aidan can understand. “I won’t let things go south between us. I will do whatever it takes to make my kitten happy, so that they’re never tempted to turn on me.”

“Even you can’t guarantee that. Love is messy, and it’s so close to hate. Especially when you begin that love with torturing them and using your evol on them without their permission,” Aidan says, wincing, as if he’s regretful about being so brutally honest.

“I have plans in place to protect the people who need protecting, in case I fuck up so badly that my beloved is driven to taking me out. And if it comes to that, I’ll deserve it,” Sylus sighs. He appreciates Aidan’s concern, but every minute he spends expressing that care is another minute that Sylus is kept from being near you. “Let me worry about the risks. Your job is to keep the empire running while I fortify the foundation that will prevent your worries from coming to pass.”

Aidan looks like he wants to say something else, but after a moment, his shoulders slump. “We just got you back. Don’t get yourself in trouble again. And of course. You don’t have to worry about the rest.” He straightens. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some puppy tails to pull.” He flicks a little wave in Sylus’s direction. “I’ll see myself out. Toodaloo!”

Just as he’s reaching the door, Sylus remembers the last thing he wanted to ask of his left hand man.

“Aidan.” Aidan jerks to a halt, and turns around, eyes narrowed, as if he can sense that whatever Sylus is about to ask will be a huge headache. “Set up a meeting with my architect, and get me a list of names.”

Aidan just stares at him for a beat. “Do I even want to know what type of names?”

“Experts in wildlife conservation. Particularly of the sealife variety.”

“You want a meeting with your architect and a sealife conservationist.” Aidan says flatly.

Sylus just stares at him.

“May I ask why?”

Sylus shows his teeth again. “I’ve been informed that the base needs an aquarium for orphaned and injured fish.”

Aidan gapes, but then rolls his eyes so hard that Sylus is worried they’ll get stuck. “I’m thrilled that your hunter makes you so happy. Really. Just thrilled. But I’m starting to get the feeling that they’ll also be the death of me, whether they take my tongue or not.”

“Spare me your editorializing and just get it done,” Sylus forestalls further whining. He’s getting increasingly impatient to get back to you.

Aidan groans, because he views it as a moral imperative to always make sure that everyone within a five kilometer radius understands the terrible sacrifices he must make as Sylus’s lawyer. “Fine . You’ll have your list by the end of the week. But I’m leaving before you can transmit any more demands from your kitten.” He sweeps out of the room in a huff and the door slams behind him.

Sylus sits for a moment as the door swings shut. He takes Aidan’s concern seriously, but even his furiously spinning mind has a hard time planning for a scenario where you turn on him. Not in this life, at least. He doesn’t want to dwell on the past when the current you, so utterly sweet, so pliant in his arms, all of your spikes withdrawn for him and him alone, is walking around in his lair, with no plans to leave for the foreseeable future. He wants to rest too, while you’re here. He doesn’t want to think about the past, or a future he has yet to secure. He simply wants to be with you.

He doesn’t want to waste another minute. He stands and heads to the door.

* * *

You wake up.

All at once, on a gasp. Your heart is pounding. You’re aching, aching, because you just woke up from a dream you can’t remember and the only things that remain are the feeling of pleasure, of security, of desire reciprocated.

You lie there, eyes still closed, hoping that you’ll be able to re-access the dream—maybe if you can fall back asleep quickly enough, you can pick up the severed thread again, return to whatever was giving you that feeling of a feast when you’re famished, a waterfall when you thirst, the weight of another’s body on you, in you, filling you so completely it eclipses that constant emptiness you carry with you through all of your days.

But despite all of your yearning, all of your effort, you can’t return to whatever you were dreaming about. Only that feeling remains—safety. The certainty that you’re utterly cherished. That all of your worries from last night were simply little nightmares, extinguished upon your waking.

You remember where you are. Who you’re staying with. Who you were anguished about as you imagined him taking another to his bed. It all seems so silly now—you talking yourself into being sad, with no reason at all to believe that he would do so, when you’re the one he has invited into his home, you’re the one he wraps himself around at every opportunity, you’re the one who he insists he wants in his bed.

What a strange sense of double vision, or cognitive dissonance. Wishful thinking. Delusional fantasy. You know that there was a reason you were worried that Sylus would be seeing other people while you stay with him. But you’re now utterly convinced that such a worry is completely unfounded, so absurd as to make you laugh out loud. But you have no idea why you have this certainty now. It feels like someone reached inside your brain and flipped a switch, and though there was a logical reason to worry, you can no longer bring yourself to believe that Sylus would ever want another in his bed.

You feel insane.

You open your eyes, expecting to see the white canopy of the swinging garden fuck-bed above you, but you see the black, ornately carved ceiling of Sylus’s bedroom instead. You are certain you fell asleep in the greenhouse. How the hell did you wind up back in Sylus’s bed? The feeling of unreality intensifies.

You turn your head and feel an immediate sense of calm wash over you as you see Sylus sitting next to you, his glorious chest no longer bare, but clothed in a simple black sweater, his gold-rimmed reading glasses perched on his sexy hooked nose. He has his tablet in one hand. He looks down at you, one corner of his mouth lifted, and you have the most intense sensation that you know what his lips feel like. That you could map his tongue, recognize it by the feel of it in your mouth if you were blindfolded, its heft and insistence between your lips.

You feel insane.

“Finally awake, kitten?” he asks, nonchalantly. He reaches down and brushes his fingertips along your cheek.

“How did I get here?” you ask, trying desperately to push the feeling of being pressed beneath his beautiful body into something soft out of your mind. Of soft silver fur under your hands. His voice— Yes, Beloved?

“The better question is why weren’t you here to begin with?” he snorts softly.

“What?”

He continues to look at you with that amused, barely-there smile. “Not fully awake, huh. Why did you go to the greenhouse when you were tired, when you had assured me that you would stay in my bedroom while you're here?”

You look away, back to his ceiling. The elaborate moulding is as extra as the rest of his place, but it’s so beautiful, you can hardly fault him for his preference for lovely things. If you can afford it, why not surround yourself with beauty? You just wish it wasn’t such an oppressive black. But it belongs to Sylus—he chose it, so you think you could tolerate it forever, given the whisper of a chance.

You don’t want to answer his question. But that sense of security, assurance, safety , remains with you, even as you fail to comprehend where the fuck it could have come from. You feel brave enough to ask the question that was torturing you before you fell asleep. “Can you give me plenty of advance warning if you’re going to invite someone over for…” you hesitate, trying to think of a more mature way of saying “sexy fucking fun times.” Nothing comes. “For fucking? I don’t want to get in the way,” you finish, lamely. But the thought of him actually wanting to fuck anyone else strikes you as so absurd that it doesn’t even hurt to say it out loud. You don’t think you even need to ask this question anymore, because you already know the answer.

But that’s insane. And you’re a lot of fucking things, but you think you’re pretty well-grounded in reality. You’re hyper-aware of reality—the reality of being you, with all of your flaws, your broken pieces barely held together, which is part of your whole goddamn problem. If you were oblivious to your own weaknesses, to the reality of living in such a cruel world while being a walking open wound, you could strut around like a mediocre white man and feel entitled to everything, including Sylus’s exclusive affection.

“Is that why you snuck off to the greenhouse, instead of coming to nap in my bed like we agreed?” He sets his tablet aside.

“I never agreed,” you mumble, thinking about how he had said that if you found a room you liked better, you had a choice of where to stay. That conversation was left open-ended. There was never a deal.

“A technicality,” he dismisses your protest. “Unless you found a room that you like better?” he asks archly, setting his glasses on top of the tablet and leaning down, running his nose along your cheek.

Nothing has changed. No room, not even the greenhouse with its life and relief from the oppressive marble halls of his base, is more appealing than any room where Sylus is. You shake your head, and his lips brush the edge of your mouth.

“But you were worried about me bringing other people to my bed, even though I have everything I want right here already,” he murmurs.

You close your eyes against the onslaught of sensations—his warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin on yours. You don’t want to admit it, but now that your bizarre certainty has been confirmed, it feels silly to pretend otherwise. “Yeah. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“So that’s the reason you ran, again?” he asks, sinking lower, getting comfortable on his side facing you.

You just nod instead of answering, and it’s not because you want to feel his lips on your skin again.

“Come to me next time, when you’re worried about something like that,” he demands, but it feels like a plea.

That sense of safety is filling you, making you brave. You want to bottle it so that you can drink it every time you feel insecure in the future, despite how nuts it’s making you feel. “Okay,” you agree quietly.

“Thank you, darling,” he smiles fully, and it’s so soft, you could die.

But hearing him say “darling” is like a gunshot next to your ear while you’re sleeping—you’re slammed into another reality, the sensation of Sylus’s hands on you, gripping your waist—his heavy body pressing yours into warm sand, sucking on his tongue, reveling in the feeling of a part of him filling you up—

You can’t. You can’t. You’re delusional, no matter how real the memory feels.

“Darling,” you choke, trying so hard to sound unaffected. “That’s new.”

“Do you dislike it?” he asks, brushing some hair from your cheek, resting his hand on the side of your head, thumb drifting along the line of your jaw.

You love it. You want him to repeat it, over and over, until you forget your own name. “I suppose it’s better than ‘kitten,’” you grumble.

“But I thought that you were okay with being called kitten, as long as it was me doing the calling,” he teases.

You scowl at him.

“Then, darling,” he pauses dramatically, like the big drama queen he is. “Was the only reason you ran, again, because you were worried I wouldn’t warn you if I had a guest? Nothing else was distressing you?”

No matter how safe you feel, no matter how assured you are now that for as long as you’re in his home, he doesn’t want anyone else around but you—you can’t bring yourself to admit this to him. You can hardly admit it to yourself. Not wanting him to be with others implies a sense of ownership, and you know that he is not yours. In any way, shape, or form. How can you be possessive of something that doesn’t and never will belong to you? It does not matter how much even thinking that he doesn’t belong to you sends a feeling of wrongness through you that is almost physically painful.

You shake your head.

“No, nothing else was bothering you? Or no, I lose this round of the guessing game?” He watches you for a few moments, the movement of his thumb so soft against your skin.

“I win,” you say, feeling wobbly, feeling safe, feeling unhinged, feeling invincible. He doesn’t belong to you, he wants you and only you, As if I would ever want anyone else in my bed, now that you’ve been in it. You can hear his voice in your head, saying things that you don’t dare dream of him saying.

“Not ready yet, then,” he says, and it almost sounds sad. But his face doesn’t change. “Well, there will be other rounds of our game,” he says lightly, a clear transition. He’s letting it go, and you are relieved. “In that case, are you hungry?”

Hell, if you’re in the process of losing your mind, you might as well do it on a full stomach.

“I could eat a horse,” you answer, trying to match his light tone.

“That can be arranged. But I’m rather attached to the ones in my stables, so we’ll have to outsource your request,” he says, one sharp canine peeking from behind his top lip.

“Sylus!” You’re horrified. “It’s just an expression.”

“I told you that you could have anything. You have only to ask,” he shrugs.

Now you’re horrified and curious. “Have you eaten horse before?”

The canine gleams in the dim light of the lamp on his nightstand. “There are few things that I haven’t eaten, darling.” His hand moves from the side of your head, down, until he slips one long finger between your throat and his tie still secured there. He tugs, gently. You remember that you don’t have any of your own clothes, and you’re still wearing his. “There are places where eating horse is as customary as eating beef. But I never really cared for it.”

“That’s a relief, somehow,” you say, even though it’s ridiculous to mourn the horses that fed him, when you ate the steak he served you earlier with such enjoyment. It’s all cruel, in the end—the necessity of survival which depends on another’s suffering. Your heart hurts, so you reach up and rub it. His blood-bright eyes follow the movement of your hand.

“My tender-hearted kitten,” he whispers, with that same strange sad tone in his voice. “Sometimes we must do things to survive that deprive another of life. Do you also mourn the wanderers you have to kill?”

You look down at his strong throat, the pale, soft skin there. So thin, fragile, with his fast pulse beating beneath. “Sometimes, when they’re particularly beautiful. When it’s so obvious that they’re only following their nature, and that their violence isn’t a result of cruelty, like people. They’re just made that way.”

“So you don’t regret the people you have to kill?”

You would like to lie, and say that you regret it deeply. That you’re as generous toward your fellow humans as you are toward wild beasts, to the beef on your plate. But you promised Sylus you’d be honest with him, if to no one else. You shake your head.

“Sometimes, the sense of satisfaction I get when I’m forced to put down someone I know who has done horrible things—” you whisper, closing your eyes. “It’s frightening.”

“Kindred spirits,” Sylus’s deep voice, the warmth of his breath, envelop you.

Are you and he really so alike? You had snarled at him, when you first met him, that you and he were not the same, that you would never be the same. You had snarled it at yourself, as much as at him. You open your eyes, and his eyes are all you can see. He looks so happy, hearing you admit the worst of yourself. You realize that you hardly know anything about this man. His past. His family. What he was like as a child. His hobbies, if he even has any. All you know is that he is a killer, a businessman. And that he touches you with the tenderness of a man handling something priceless. That’s all. Yet here you are, his hands on you, still gently tugging on a tie wrapped around your throat. Here you are, so attached to him already that the thought of him bedding another feels like your aether core mutilated heart is shredding itself. How did this happen?

You want to know everything about him. You tell yourself that it’s not because you’re ravenous to unravel his mystery, to be sated from the knowing, and cherish him the more for it. You tell yourself that maybe, the more you learn, the more your heart will ease, and familiarity will breed contempt. Maybe you’ll be able to let him go when this is over, if you know all the ugly parts of him, all of his annoying traits like everyone has. You decide to ask him about when the fake dating will start, so that you’ll have an excuse to ask him to share as much as he’s willing about himself with you, as he practices sharing himself with his beloved.

As if I would ever want anyone else in my bed, now that you’ve been in it.

You shake your head. You’re not his beloved. Why wouldn’t he just tell you, if you were?

Would you have believed me, if I had told you that I wasn’t behind your family’s murder?

You close your eyes again. You feel insane.

I expect you to remember what you just said, when this is over.

You can’t. You can’t. If you’re wrong—

You open your eyes again. You’re here now. You’re here now, and he has the tail of the tie clasped softly in his palm, and he’s gently pulling it so that it tightens on your throat, a hair’s breadth, and then releases. It feels good. You want him to pull harder. You want to know everything about him, and forget everything else. You’re in a dream, and you don’t have to wake up yet. You’re not insane. It’s just the certainty one sometimes has in a dream—you know something to be true, even though you don’t know how you know. Sylus wants you, and only you with him right now. You’re going to indulge.

“To be clear, I don’t want you to serve me horse,” you tell him, pulling back a little so that the tie tightens against your throat again. He inhales sharply, but the corner of his mouth lifts.

“As you wish. Let’s go to the kitchen. You can choose something that you do want me to serve you.” He pulls a little harder on the tie and you let out a soft gasp.

You want him to curl it around his fist, pull you to him, devour you in a way you feel like you know, with a strange certainty, that he would. But you can’t tell him that. Not yet. If you’re wrong—

You open your eyes. Sylus’s face is flushed, his bright eyes narrowed on the tie, on your throat.

“I want to go to the kitchen, but I don’t have any of my own clothes,” you say softly, needing desperately to break this spell before you do something that you can’t take back.

Sylus looks confused for a moment. “Do you need your own clothes?”

“Do you want me to walk around in your oversized clothes the whole time I’m here?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all, but I don’t need it. Did you not find anything to your liking from the selection of clothes in your size in the dressing room?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. “I know you’re spoiled, but I didn’t realize to this extent,” he says, not sounding displeased at all.

“What clothes?”

Something in Sylus’s face changes. “Did you not… explore the dressing room?”

You shake your head. “Mephisto was watching me, and I didn’t want to upset him by touching anything I shouldn’t,” you shrug. “So I just grabbed what I could see.”

Sylus laughs softly. “Why would Mephisto get upset by you touching anything in this house?”

“Because it’s your house, and I’m an interloper, and he squawked at me when he saw me touching your ties.”

“And yet you’re wearing one.” His eyes flick down to your neck again.

“Okay, so I was being petty after he squawked.”

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. “So you thought I didn’t arrange for you to have clothes you’d be comfortable in. And you thought that Mephisto was… surveilling you.”

You’re confused. “Um, is that not the case? And then you sent the twins to show me around to make sure I don’t go anywhere I’m not supposed to.” At his pained look, you rush on. “I get it. You probably have a lot of valuable stuff in here, and just the intel about the layout of your base is probably even more valuable.”

Sylus sighs and drops his hand. “Do you trust me?”

You stare at him. Do you trust him? You let your eyes drift from his beautiful eyes, to his regal nose. His soft silver hair sweeping messily over his forehead. Would you be here, lying in his bed in his criminal headquarters at the pinnacle of the N109 Zone, if you didn’t trust him? He apologized for hurting you when you first met, and promised never to do so again. He’s been nothing but kind to you since those first long days with him. He’s promised never to use his evol on you without your permission. He said that once given, he never breaks a promise. And you believe him. Of course you trust him.

“Yeah, Sylus, I trust you,” you say softly.

“Okay,” he says, sitting up, pulling the tie gently with him so that you come too. You sit, legs tucked under yourself, as Sylus sits on his own knees, and very gently begins to untie the tie. The silk whispers along your skin as it falls away from your throat. He then lifts it slowly, watching your reaction. But you just sit still, letting him sweep it across your eyes as he blindfolds you, securing it at the back of your head. It’s comfortable.

You feel him take your wrist and tug softly, and you go with him. Your feet hit the soft rug, and you follow where he leads, enjoying the warmth of his calloused hand on your wrist, enjoying the mystery of where he’s leading you.

After an unexpectedly short amount of time, he stops. You feel cold as the warmth of his body disappears, and you hear what sounds like doors opening, or cabinets. He returns to you, and his delicious scent fills your senses. He undoes the knot, and the tie falls away.

You’re in his dressing room, towards the back where you didn’t venture earlier. Door after closet door is open, and you see rack after rack, shelf after shelf—clothes that look like the ones you have at home. Athletic wear. Hoodies. Comfortable clothes you would wear on your days off. But also clothing that you don’t have in your own closet—formal wear. Club clothes. Expensive fabrics. Pair after pair of a variety of sneakers, boots, dress shoes.

“New rule. The next time you are faced with two possibilities—when you think that what you perceive could be negative, but could also be positive, try to consider that the positive is true,” he says gently, placing his big hands on your shoulders and leaning down a little to meet your gaze. “I had Luke and Kieran fetch some things from your home that I thought would make you feel at ease here. The earring. The plushie you hug the most often. Your phone charger. Your laptop is in my office. But I didn’t want them to go through all of your things, and they have no interest in invading your privacy. I was hoping you can make do with new clothing that I thought you’d like, as well as your own care products while you’re here. If you’re missing anything, just tell me, and I’ll arrange for it to be sent.”

As he speaks, you feel your eyes getting hot—in dawning horror, you realize that you’ve started to cry. Why the fuck are you crying? You don’t want him to see, but you’re helpless under his big hands keeping you grounded. You take a big, shuddering breath. All of this kindness hurts. But Sylus isn’t done hurting you.

“And Mephisto isn’t following you to surveil you. He’s programmed to greet you, and to follow you in case you need backup and company. If you don’t have your phone on you, you can still reach me, wherever you are in the house, through him. There’s also an app on your phone for you to change his settings if you want. If you don’t like his voice module, you can make him meow.” Sylus slowly pulls you to him, looking down into your face. He thumbs the tears from your cheeks, brings them to his mouth, and rubs the moisture across his bottom lip. He then pulls you closer, hugging you tightly to his chest. “And I sent Luke and Kieran with you to see the house because the last time you were here, you were really scared. Since I had to meet with Aidan, I didn't want you to be alone, but also didn’t want to force you to sit caged in my room until I could show you around.”

You press your face into his chest, breathing against his rapid heartbeat, feeling all the anxiety and sadness of the tour and return to the greenhouse draining out of your body.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your bowed head. “If you’re unsure of my intentions, even after all this—if you consider the positive possibility and can’t quite believe it, then just ask me,” he says softly into your hair. “There’s no need to torture yourself with me.” He lifts your chin, and his barely there smile lifts his mouth. “That’s my job. And there will be no doubt when I actually intend to torment you.”

You smile through your stupid embarrassing tears, laugh a little wetly. “It’s true. Subtlety isn’t your strong suit.”

“You know that much, at least.”

“How could I miss it?” you ask.

“Good fucking question. How could you possibly miss so much?” he nudges your forehead with his forefinger.

You scowl at him. You feel light. And with the relief, comes the hunger. “Didn’t you promise to feed me? I’m starving,” you gripe, refusing to think about what else you’re missing.

I can promise you that whomever you’re thinking my 'crush' is, it’s not the person you're thinking of.

The only way he could have promised that is if he knew that you’d never consider yourself a possibility.

And Sylus says he always keeps his promises.

“Well, I can’t let my spoiled kitten get any more hungry,” he interrupts your thoughts.

You shake your head. “It would be terrible if I end up having to eat you because I’m so hungry,” you tease, but he just lifts his eyebrows as if intrigued.

“Would it be so terrible though?” he asks. You pull back and gently push him toward the door.

“Go, make me something delicious while I get dressed,” you order him with a laugh.

“I see how it is— just a little reassurance, and suddenly you’re bold enough to give me orders." He tucks his thumbs into the pockets of his black, worn looking jeans. “Finally,” he says, looking incredibly satisfied, before disappearing in a whoosh of air, scarlet-ink mist, and feathers that float gently toward you before falling to the floor.

You turn, sighing happily at the sight of all of these new clothes stretching before you. You don’t deserve this. You’ve never been a big shopper. Budget too tight, too much ammo and manga to buy instead, when you practically live in your hunter uniform. But you spotted some yoga wear from a brand that is wildly expensive but makes the softest, best fitting shit you’ve ever put on your body. You shake yourself. Indulge. Indulge. Indulge.

After you’ve checked your bandages and cleaned up a bit in the bathroom, you drift through the base and find Sylus in the kitchen, as promised. Soft lighting from floor lamps and recessed fixtures hold back the N109 Zone’s night stretching beyond the kitchen’s large windows. Soft classical music accompanies the sound of Sylus digging around in the huge fridges, the clatter of a pan placed on the gas burning stove.

“So you’ll be cooking personally for me today? Not your chef?”

“Not my chef,” Sylus confirms. “I’m the the chef today,” he smiles slightly. “Sit.” He points to the bar stool on the other side of the massive kitchen island.

“I can cook,” you protest. At Sylus’s doubtful look, you defend yourself. “It’s true. I can cook. Xavier loves it when I have the time and energy to make something and invite him over, because it’s fucking hard to cook for only one person,” you say mournfully, suddenly worried about how Xavier will feed himself while you’re not there to ensure he eats vegetables along with his ramen. But he survived long before he became your partner. He’s a big boy, you tell yourself.

“Oh, I bet he does,” Sylus says under his breath. “And I am cooking because I thought you would want to give your abused feet a break.”

You squint at him. “They hurt, but they’re still functioning.”

“Again, just because they’re functioning doesn’t mean you have to use them more than necessary. And I believe you when you say you can cook. But do you actually like to cook? Or do you feel like you have to, because it’s cheaper than delivery?” Sylus asks, breaking an egg into a bowl. “While you’re here, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t actively enjoy doing. You’re not here to survive. You’re here to recover.”

You’re so touched by his words that it takes a moment for you to get your mouth to answer him. Something’s wrong with your eyes again, and your throat is suddenly tight. You clear it. “Definitely the latter,” you admit, thinking of a million other things that you’d rather be doing than cooking yet another meal. You often wish you could just slurp all your nutrition from a pouch and be done with it. “But I do like baking. That doesn’t count as cooking, because the result is fun.”

Sylus laughs softly. “Then when you feel up to it, you can teach me how to bake your favorite things, because that’s something I never really do. In the meantime, when chef isn’t here and whatever she’s left behind in the fridge for heating up isn’t to your taste, I’ll cook for you. Deal?”

You watch Sylus’s big hands gently crack more eggs, grind some salt and pepper in the mixture, fling a little bit of butter onto the now hot pan. You could get used to this beautiful creature preparing meals for you. And you could get used to baking delicious things, and feeding each bite to him by hand. You’re here now. You’re going to indulge. “Deal,” you smile. “But while you’re doing that, I need coffee. Can you point me in the direction of your coffee shit, coffee maker, and mugs?”

Sylus pauses. “I don’t have a coffee maker.”

You stare at him. “What do you mean you don’t have a coffee maker.”

“I mean, I have a french press. But I don’t have a drip coffee maker.”

You squint at him. “You have a fucking ice rink in your villain HQ, and you don’t have a coffee maker? You make your coffee, by hand, every morning? Do you also insist on hand grinding the beans with a mortar and pestle every time you want a cup? Are you as much of a coffee snob as a wine snob?”

“Aren’t you sharp-tongued for a kitten who is depending on me for its caffeine fix.” Sylus sounds infinitely amused.

“I’m just consistently in awe of all of this means you have at your disposal, and yet you do nothing with it. And I’m assuming that since you don’t have a normal coffee maker, you’re also too much of a snob to have one of those fancy as fuck espresso machines that can make whipped foam, along with an entire fleet of flavor syrups on tap.” As you talk, you become more distressed. “Oh my god, Sylus. You’re a hipster billionaire. You’re like, the worst of everything wrong with our capitalist society,” you say forlornly. Why can’t you be nuts about a normal man? What’s wrong with a guy with a tidy little flat and a drip coffee maker? A nice accountant whose only crime is jaywalking, maybe a little tax evasion, for a treat, every year when filing. But no, you want to have the stuck up edgelord who can explode people with his mind and who thinks even professional espresso machines are too plebeian for his refined taste buds.

Sylus is just staring at you, an eyebrow lifted. “What I hear you saying is that you want a fancy as fuck espresso machine. Is that correct?”

You sigh in resignation. Your heart wants what it wants. “What you hear me saying is, okay, Sylus, where is the french press, the coffee beans, the grinder I’ll no doubt have to grind them with, and your mugs?”

“The espresso machine will be here when you wake up tomorrow. As for the french press, beans, grinder, and mugs…” he smirks at you as he points to one of the cupboards over the long, black marble kitchen counter.

You slip from the stool and go to open the indicated cabinet, finding the promised french press and tasteful glass jar of whole coffee beans. Of course even his storage containers are fancy and pretty. But you stop short, as you notice Caleb’s gift and the CUNT mug sitting on the shelf next to the coffee supplies.

You blink. You blink, and turn to look at Sylus, who is now busy scrambling the eggs. “You brought Caleb’s mug,” you breathe.

“I told you, I wanted you to have the things here that make you comfortable,” Sylus shrugs, not turning away from the eggs.

You could cry again. The thoughtfulness of this asshole takes you by surprise, every single time. But you don’t want to cry. You want to enjoy. You whip around and march over to Sylus, who is still serenely stirring the eggs. You peek around to catch his eye, ensuring that he knows you’re there. His red gaze flicks to you for a moment, returns to the eggs. You then step behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his broad back.

Your warning must have been successful. He doesn’t throw you to the floor, or even stiffen—his shoulders seem to relax, and he leans back a little, as if trying to sink into your hug. He puts the hand not stirring the eggs on your forearm, as if to hold you there.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing tighter.

“It’s nothing,” he says, as the scent of butter and eggs, the soft sound of cellos, the dark night and warm lamplight surround the two of you.

“It’s everything,” you counter.

“You deserve to be harder to please,” Sylus grumbles, turning off the burner. He turns, and you try to step away, but he keeps his hold on your forearm until he’s fully facing you. He leans down and scoops you into his arms, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. He then just stands there, hugging you tightly to him. You hug him back, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes closed to better soak in the feeling of just holding him, of being held.

“Your eggs will get cold,” he says after a while, regretfully.

You just squeeze him harder. You’ve eaten worse.

You feel him laugh softly, your chest vibrating with his amusement. “As you wish."

Suddenly, the moment is shattered with a ruckus like a herd of elephants pounding down the hallway, along with a crash, gleeful laughter and yelps.

“Cheater, tripping is cheating, cheater cheater cheater!” Luke roars.

“The first rule of race club is there are no rules in race club,” Kieran bellows, voice closer to the doorway, until suddenly it’s filled with two grown, grappling men, big biceps straining as they each try to prevent the other from entering the kitchen first.

“No… you… don’t!” Luke pants, wrapping his arm around Kieran’s neck in a chokehold and trying to drag him back into the hallway.

“Oww, my throat, Luke, my throat still hurts,” Kieran whines. Luke looks stricken and immediately lets go, only to find himself shoved back further into the hallway as Kieran cackles and comes careening into the kitchen, socked feet sliding along the smooth, marble floor until he crashes into the kitchen island. He lets out a loud whoop, throwing his arms in the air. “Kitchen-race champion, kitchen-race champion,” he chants as Kieran scowls at him from the doorway.

“That was a dirty trick,” he seethes. “You know I wouldn’t ever want to really hurt you.”

“I keep telling you that you’re too gullible,” Kieran smiles at him fondly. “You know all is fair in love and the kitchen race game.”

“Some love,” Luke snorts, and then his eyes widen as he seems to notice you and Sylus behind the kitchen island for the first time. You turn to look at Sylus, but his eyes are on your face, as if he hasn’t stopped looking at you the entire time you’ve taken in the twins’ skirmish, as if what just occurred is daily life at Onychinus HQ and not even worth looking at. You glance back at the twins.

Kieran turns his head to follow Luke’s gaze and then straightens as if at attention. “Oh, apologies boss! We didn’t know you were…” he takes in how you’re attached to Sylus like a koala. “You were preoccupied in here.”

You look back at Sylus, but he just stares at you. Okay, if he’s not going to say anything, you will. “We’re not preoccupied. Sylus was just making eggs.” You cough a little. “Sylus, you can put me down now.”

He just hugs you tighter.

“Eggs? Oh, can we have some? I’m starving after my big stupid cheater of a brother scared the shit out of me by acting hurt,” Luke grumbles, sending Kieran a dirty look. Kieran holds out his hand, and despite his indignation, Luke slides into the kitchen on his socks like an ice skater and takes Kieran’s hand, who then wraps his brother’s arm around his own shoulders.

“Let that be a lesson. How to fake out your opponent, and how not to be so gullible, even with me.” Kieran reaches over and rubs his fist into Luke’s bouncing curls. Luke ducks his head and sweeps Kieran into a chokehold again, who just laughs. “That’s it,” he crows, and the two tussle like a couple of puppies.

“I can’t make coffee if you won’t let me go,” you say softly to Sylus amidst the racket the twins are making.

“Do you really want to make coffee now?” he asks, turning, setting you on the counter and simply standing between your legs. You’re getting the feeling that he likes this position, because it puts your face a little closer to his if the surface you’re sitting on is high enough.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask curiously.

“It’s getting late again. Between the tour and your nap, it’s closer to the time I go to bed now. You’ll be up all night if you have caffeine now.”

“Then why didn’t you say so when I first asked about the coffee?” You tilt your head.

Sylus just looks bored. You’re learning that he does this when he isn’t interested in answering you, when you’re most interested in the answer. Suddenly it dawns on you. “You wanted me to see the mugs.”

He just lifts his hand and fiddles with the hem of the soft long sleeved shirt you’re wearing. “Now you know where they are, in case I’m not around,” he shrugs.

You lean forward, placing both of your palms on his cheeks. He sucks in a breath, but stays still. “Thank you,” you say.

“You’ve already said that, and I’ve already said it’s nothing,” he answers, his stubble shifting under your hands.

“If we’re not going to have coffee, and it’s almost time to go to bed again, what did you have in mind for after we eat?” you ask, running your thumbs under his lovely eyes, indulging, indulging, not worrying about anyone else, not worrying about tomorrow or the day after. There is only today, every day, until this is over.

“What do you want to do?” he asks, leaning in, letting you pet him.

You think about it. You’re still so tired. You think you’ll probably be tired for weeks, until you’ve slept enough to make up for your enormous sleep deficit of the past year, however long that takes. Your feet hurt. You just want to be near Sylus. He’s asking you what you want to do like he intends to do it with you. So instead of worrying if that’s the case, if you’re misunderstanding something, you say what you want.

“I want to start fake dating you,” you say. His eyes widen a little, and then he frowns.

“Fake dating?” Kieran’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you realize that the twins had stopped roughhousing enough to overhear your conversation.

“What do you mean, fake dating?” Luke asks, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, your boss just asked me to help him practice dating so that he can successfully woo the person he’s in love with,” you say, the picture of cheerful helpfulness. This is already enough. You’re happy to help. And you’re going to indulge the fuck out of pretending that he’s looking at you, instead of imagining the other person he’d like to have in his bed more than you. Because you can’t imagine it’s you. You can’t. Because if you’re wrong—

Kieran and Luke’s mouths drop open. They look at each other, and then look at Sylus.

“What the fuck, boss—” Luke begins, as Kieran says “For someone so intelligent, you can be so stupid—” before Sylus cuts them both off.

“Take some of the prepped meals that chef left in the fridge and then leave us.”

For a second, they both look like they want to argue, but then they dutifully snap their mouths shut in unison, and you get that strange feeling of uncanniness again, like they’re just one person who happens to have two bodies. They efficiently go to the fridge, grab some containers of what must be the prepped meals, and leave you and Sylus alone in the kitchen, now with only classical violin filling the silence.

“Was that a secret?” you ask, feeling bad if you just made Sylus lose face with his employees.

“I have nothing to hide when it comes to you,” he says. “But they don’t need to know every detail of my personal life, even if they may disagree with that statement.”

“Okay,” you say, still feeling bad for some reason.

He touches your chin, lifts it. “What did you have in mind when you said you want to start fake dating?”

“When we talked about me helping you, you seemed to be okay with the idea of practicing sharing parts of your life with your crush. I was thinking maybe while I’m staying with you, you can already start.” You smile at him, hoping he can’t tell how much you want him to say yes.

“Am I not already doing that?” he asks.

You tilt your head. Okay, so he has invited you into his home, showed you around. But you still know so little about him. “I guess so,” you say. You feel a bit silly now. Maybe you were hoping for too much. Maybe he’d rather get on with his normal routine, and isn’t interested in any usefulness you have to offer at the moment.

You’re suddenly really tired again. You want him to back up, to stop looking so closely at your face. “The eggs are cold now,” you say, trying to keep your hand still, trying to resist the urge to dig your nails into your thigh. He’s right there. He asked you to hurt him instead. You can’t hurt him, so you can’t hurt yourself.

“Then I’ll make new ones,” he says, still watching you like a hawk eyeing a mouse about to bolt from hiding.

You’re not hungry anymore. You hate the yo-yo of your emotions. You want to be as unruffled as the man in front of you. You’re hoping that the more rest you get, the longer you have to recover, you’ll regain some semblance of equilibrium, some resistance to the rawness of the feelings hemorrhaging from your heart. But you know if you won’t eat, your blood sugar will crash and you’ll be left feeling faint.

“No worries. Do you have string cheese or something? Just something to keep me from feeling lightheaded?”

“I'm not feeding you logs of trash cheese while you're a guest in my home," Sylus tsks, probably affronted at the mere suggestion that he would have string cheese in his house. "What else do you want me to share with you about my life?”

“What?” You were just talking about cheese. Now you're being interrogated.

“You said you wanted to start dating. That you were interested in me sharing parts of my life with you. What else do you want me to share with you about my life?” he says slowly.

“Oh. It’s really nothing. You’re right, you are already sharing a lot by having me here.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t say I’m already sharing a lot, as if you were asking for too much. I said, ‘Am I not already doing that?’” because I thought I was sharing my life with you by inviting you here and hoping to spend time with you. So now I want to know what else you want me to share.”

“You want to spend time with me?” you ask.

“Why else would I ask you what you would like to do until it’s time for bed?” he asks, gently flicking your forehead.

“Maybe you wanted to occupy me so that you would be free to do whatever you really want to do,” you say, wincing a little.

Sylus hangs his head. Huffs a little laugh. “Your mind is incredible.”

You scowl at the top of his stupid, pretty head. “Okay, if you’re going to mock me—”

“I mean it. Your imagination is impressive if there is any ambiguity in a statement. We've been over this, and you promised to try to choose the positive interpretation over the negative."

You look away, feeling shitty for already breaking your promise. Sylus lifts his head and guides your gaze back to him with his forefinger on your jaw. "Habits are hard to break, I know. So let me rephrase. I would like to spend time with you until bed. How would you like to spend that time?” He places his palms on your thighs and smooths them soothingly up, and down.

The soothing gesture works. You feel the impending withdrawal into yourself, into your protective, sad little shell, reverse at his words, at his touch. You think about all the things you were shown today, and what the two of you could do for a little while together. You’re too tired to read, so the idea of visiting his library is out. You don’t want to work out, obviously, so the gym, the ice skating rink, even the pool—no good.

“You have a home theater. Do you like movies?”

He perks up. “Yeah, I do.”

“Wanna show me what movies you like? Maybe we can watch one?” You’re casual. The absolute definition of chill.

He eyes you for a moment. “When you say practicing to ‘share my life,’ is this your way of asking to know more about me?”

You shrug like it’s no big deal. Like you’re not terribly eager to know every single thing about him. “If you want.”

“If you wanted to know more about me, you could have just said so. No need to frame it in fake dating.”

“But we made a deal. You wanted to practice—”

He interrupts you. “All right, we can date. But just ask if you have questions. And just assume that I want to spend time with you.”

“Our deal was fake dating,” you try again, because he keeps dropping the ‘fake’ part and it’s doing things to your heart.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling,” he lifts one corner of his mouth.

“But that’s the deal—”

“Uh huh,” he says absently, lifting you from the counter with one arm, turning to the fridge, and rifling through it with his free hand. He manages to agilely balance a stack of containers. “There’s a bar in the theater room, so we can get something to drink there,” he happily informs you.

“Of course you have a bar in there, you alcoholic.”

“Now, now, no need to call names,” he says serenely, carrying you and the food into the hall and heading towards the theater room.

Once there, he tosses you gently on one of the super soft, overstuffed in contrast to other furniture in the house, and of course ubiquitously black, leather couches that sits in front of a huge screen on the far wall. The couch is so soft you hardly bounce, just sinking into the cushion with a laugh. He sets the food containers on the low table positioned in front of the couch, between its two chaise lounge sections that stretch out on either side.

He sits down next to you, so close that his big thigh is squished against yours. “The dvds are in the cabinet over there,” he says as he opens one of the container lids. “You wanted to know what movies I like? Knock yourself out.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You excitedly make your way to where he pointed and throw open a dark paneled cabinet door. Shelf after shelf, going all the way up to the high ceiling where you’re certain Sylus can’t even reach, full of dvd after dvd. You run your fingers along their edges, reading titles silently as you go.

It appears that Sylus is a fan of classic films. You see titles that you’ve never watched, but have heard in passing from cultural references or watching annual movie awards when you’re lucky enough to not be working through them during a particular year. Black and white films. Foreign films with directors you’ve never heard of. As your gaze drifts over his collection, sounds of cabinet doors opening on the other side of the room serve as background noise. The clink of plates, of glasses, liquid being poured.

You don’t think you see one film from the last decade in his collection. But maybe they’re higher up.

“How do you get up to the top? I don’t see one of those fancy library ladders on a wheeled track anywhere. Does the great Sylus Qin resort to using a step stool?” You ask absently, still scanning the titles. He appears to be a big fan of horror movies. You’re also a huge fan of horror, but you can recognize that you’re a bit of a barbarian in that you’ve never watched the true classics. Maybe you can expand your cultural horizons while you’re here. Knowing more about classic film could come in handy while working undercover at pretentious wealthy bastard functions.

Your thought is interrupted as you yelp, having been lifted into the air by scarlet-ink tendrils and carried swiftly toward the ceiling, where you’re now hovering, eye level with the upper shelves of Sylus’s dvd collection. You look back down at him, where he isn’t even looking at you as he is artfully arranging your movie snacks in little bowls and plates.

“A little warning would be nice,” you say drily.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he teases. “Can’t have you getting bored with me.”

You snort. “That’s my line.”

One moment you’re floating leisurely near what looks like his Russian film section of his collection, and the next you’re being deposited onto his lap as he sinks back into the soft couch.

“The presumption of people insinuating that even the possibility exists that I could ever be bored with you is astonishing,” he grumbles, and your heart hurts a little. Even other people can see how ill-suited you are for this mercurial, privileged man—a man who could have anything and anyone he wants, and has the propensity for boredom that goes along with it. “I don’t like it.”

You just smile at him, because what can you do? “People are wise.”

Sylus scowls like he just sucked on a lemon. “One other person, and he is a silly deviant and has been corrected, just as I’m correcting you.” He places his hands on your shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the skin of your throat. “In no universe could I ever be bored with you.”

“You don’t even really know me,” you say gently, letting your head fall forward under his soft touch. He slides one hand around and palms the back of your neck, squeezing gently.

“Don’t I?” he asks.

“You may know the ugliest parts of me because of your aether core. But you don’t know my daily habits. My annoying quirks. How I brush my teeth. My favorite foods. My fondest memories. My pet peeves when it comes to lovers.” You lean your head back now, baring your throat to him, letting his big hand keep you upright. “And I don’t know yours, either.”

“I know the most essential parts of you to be assured that I’ll never tire of learning about the details,” Sylus answers, shaking you gently.

You open your eyes, lift your head. “But I don’t know the essential parts of you, let alone the details.”

His wine dark eyes look so soft as they meet your gaze. “Don’t you?”

You remember the feeling when you first met him. The voice in your head, urging you to devour him. Insisting with a violence that scared you that he was yours, to consume, to swallow, to feast. The recognition in you when you resonated the first and only time, when you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. You might not have an aether core in your eye, but maybe you do know the essentials of him. His cruelty. His violence. His single-minded pursuit of his goals. His steadfastness as he chases you, over and over again, as you run, over and over again.

I expect you to remember what you just said, when this is over.

You do remember what you said at Amnesia. And you remember a kiss that never happened, the taste of his tongue on yours that you can’t possibly know. You feel insane.

“Do I?” you echo him.

“Mmm,” he murmurs his confirmation. “And now we have all the time in the world for you to satisfy your kitten’s curiosity regarding the details.”

Maybe it’s okay to be a little insane in a dream.

“What movie do you want to watch?” you ask, leaning forward, running your nose along his, inhaling the scent of his skin.

He exhales, his warm breath soft and carrying the scent of some smoky liquor. “Why don’t you choose?”

“What if you’ve seen it before?”

He turns his head a little, so that his lips brush the edges of your mouth. “I’ve seen all of the films I own.”

“Won’t you get bored rewatching?” You resist the urge to turn your own head, to meet his mouth— you can’t, you can’t, not yet. What if you’re wrong—

“I won’t get bored. I’ll be watching through your eyes this time.”

“You have so many, how can I choose?”

He smiles faintly against your skin. “What kind of movies do you like?”

You think for a moment. “I like all kinds of genres. Horror is probably my favorite, but only when I’m in the mood. I think the movies I like the best tend to be character driven. When I care about what is happening to the people, what choices they’re making—when I want them to prevail over the conflict. Not just gritty and dark for the sake of being edgy. And I like happy endings unless it’s a horror film. Life is hard enough, without spending it watching depressing Russian films,” you smile against his cheek in turn before sinking into him, resting your chest against his, tucking your face into his neck. His hands drift up and slowly caress your back.

“So you like fairy tales,” he says, but not dismissively. An observation.

“No, you’re the one who likes fairy tales—the original versions. Grim, unlikable characters being taught a lesson. Sad stories where no one wins, to confirm your cynical outlook of an unsalvageable world.” You’re teasing him, a little. But you also think it’s true.

He huffs a laugh. “Judging my taste in films, just as you judge my taste in coffee, wine, home decor, occupation—the list goes on. I’m the one who should be worried that my darling will grow bored with me.” He pauses. “You actually know quite a few details about me already, don’t you think?”

Your mind drifts to all the time you’ve shared with him, all the things you already know about him. Maybe he’s right, and you know more than you think. He has been showing you himself, every minute you’re together. Maybe if you manage to stop navel gazing and wallowing in insecurity, you’ll learn even more.

“In no universe could I ever be bored with you,” you echo him again.

“I'll hold you to that promise,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You’re getting so sleepy. If you don’t start the movie, you’ll be asleep before the opening credits are over.

“So pick your favorite movie, Sy. I want to watch it through your eyes.”

His arms tighten even further, forcing a puff of breath from your lips. “In a minute, darling. Stay like this, for a little longer.”

You nod, feeling his rapid-fire heartbeat under your own, slower heart. It’s soothing, in a way that firing a real gun no longer is for you.

“If you don’t start it now, I’m going to fall asleep,” you mumble, sinking further.

“Then sleep,” he says. So you do.

Sylus holds you in his arms, and for once, his mind is quiet—no churning plans, no tweaking the spiderwebs of action and reaction, force and counterforce, push and pull, either for his business or to draw you ever closer to him. He’s just a man, sitting with his heart in his hands—safe and calm. He misses you, as he always does, when you’re so close but asleep. He considers joining you in your dreams again, just to make sure that they’re as peaceful as you deserve, but decides against it. He skirted the edges of his promise to you by doing it once, even though he remains convinced that it was necessary. You were willing to share your fears with him after you woke up—he just mixed up the order a little bit by reassuring you first and then asking questions second. But he’s unwilling to risk it again.

This is enough, for now. He feels the steady beat of your heart against his own submachine gun rhythm, and his pulse slows, slows, until for once, he feels like he can breathe fully without having to check behind himself, check the exits, check contingencies and backups, check the pulse in your throat to make sure you’re still here, you’re still real, you’re still letting him so close he can taste your skin when he inhales the scent of your neck. You’re in his home, and you just had your almost-first, definitely not fake despite what you tell yourself, date. Watching a movie together, the most cliche, boring date of all, and you fell asleep before it even started. You called him something other than his full name for the first time, and not in a teasing way like crow man or good boy—an endearment, something no one else will ever have the privilege of calling him. It takes him a little while to figure out the feeling that has been spreading through him since you hugged him from behind in thanks for the lousy gift of a couple of mugs you already owned—a feeling like how he has always imagined sunshine would feel on a mild summer day for a normal person.

Oh. He laughs a little breathlessly. He’s happy.

If he wasn’t aware of how much you’re already changing him, he’d realize it now, as he hugs you as tightly as he dares without waking you, feeling as foolish as Aidan waxing poetic about every new person being a gift with a surprise inside. Sylus doesn’t need any other people to maintain his attention—you are the gift, a nesting doll puzzle box, a gift within a gift within a gift, and he’s so fucking happy you’re letting him open each of your secrets, one by one, that he’s dizzy with it. The ratatat of his heart fires, and fires, and fires. For the first time that he can remember, he’s looking forward to tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.

end note: My dear readers, once again I have failed to deliver big toys and action, but the plot has inched along very slightly with Sylus's conversation with Aidan, and hopefully the next part will contain MC having the run of Sylus's place and getting into some trouble with the twins and Noah if I recover from real world events and don't just crawl into a hole and hide for the next four years.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #my fanfic #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #i hope this is enjoyable after today

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ive-been-timebombed · 3 months ago

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PART THREE

💥Danny the avoider💥 and ✨Jason the Daddy issues✨

Jason decidedly hated Wickham. Both in the story and the blue dumbass. He had barely caught Dick when he decided to take an early leave and the damn floating asshat is just watching him like he was a the best thing he had seen in fucking years.

He needed to get Big Bird to the cave to check out whatever the fuck is happening to him. He needed to deal with the being and he didn’t know where to start. He can’t just shoot this problem and leave the problem could kill him with a snap of its fingers.. are they even fingers? The damn claws on it said otherwise..

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” Jason glared at the being pulled his brother up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Ghost, like you.?” The being spoke it looked awkward and it was picking at its nails similar to a kid.

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ Jason adjusted his helmet onto his head and looked around for his guns and the Dickheads sticks. Ignoring that panicking face of the being.

______

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” His son- his baby.. he can’t believe that his baby is right in front of him.. the very same one that he held all night when they wouldn’t stop crying.. the very same one that had explosive poops almost every night. Okay he didn’t miss that part. Or the other.. but he missed when he could look at his baby in the bed sleeping as laugh at the small snores that reminded him of his father’s. Or even the smile the kid had whenever he got back from work and picked him up from the neighbors.. oh god.. he really fucked up.. he gave his child away because of how selfish he was.

Back on track- wait did his kid not know he was a ghost? Actually he couldn’t judge. He didn’t either.. kinda really just thought he gained meta powers and not died.

“Ghost, like you.?” Danny said to his kid he felt so damn awkward.. he knew he should be more confident- being the king god thing of basically all does that to one. Take Pariah Dark for example. He was ugly yet still had the confidence to speak like he was the toughest guy around. Good reasons too, at the time he was the toughest guy around. Ghost? Guy? Same thing. No it’s not..

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ His kid truly hadn’t had a clue what he- wait. No, no, no he can’t lose his kid again. He already lost the rest of his friends and family he can’t lose his kid. Sure he had the ghosts and Ellie but this was his kid! The same kid that he held for three hours straight the night before he had to give his child away. He couldn’t let go again he couldn’t- wouldn’t. He knows where he is now- his core! He almost forgot! He needs to do something about that-

“No!” Danny yelled a bit louder than he wanted. His kid looked over at him his face was covered by the helmet thing. Why was his kid wearing that? “I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” His baby- grown up baby.. he didn’t see his baby grow up- held up the gun he had found on the ground pointing it at Danny,

“Oh- sorry” Danny floated back a bit he didn’t even notice that he got closer, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

Danny was a horrible parent wasn’t he? He horrible, horrendous, good for nothing parent. Oh.. he shouldn’t ruin his baby’s unlife anymore than he did. He should just fix his core make sure he is okay and leave. Is it getting hard to breathe or is that just him..? He could feel his core crying out to his baby’s core.. he couldn’t leave him again. He couldn’t but he had to. His baby had a life that wasn’t with him. He needed to respect that.. the lump in his throat didn’t go away.. in fact only got worse at the thought.

_________

“No!” The being yelled. It scared Jason. It was like his insides, his brain.. the pits wanted to go up to the being and hug it. Like it could fix all his problems with just a hug and a few words.. like he felt when he got those faint memories of his bio dad. He was told he was adopted or given away by his bio dad to his mom. His Ma explained that his dad, better than the Willis, His dad had wanted nothing more than to keep him. But he was in big trouble and made the decision to give him away for his safety. Lot of good that did. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if his dad didn’t give him away. Would he be happier? Would he have different siblings? Would he be in college and become a lit major? Or even an author? Would he have died..? Would his dad avenge him unlike Bruce.? Is his dad even alive..?

“I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“ The being continued, who the hell was Frostbite? Jason didn’t care enough to ask. He needed to not be near the thing that made him think so clearly.

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” Jason almost relaxed his body with how close the being got. He needed to not be here. At all. Away.

“Oh- sorry” The being floated back even apologized, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

“My parents were fucking awesome! My Ma was the best mother I could’ve asked for- Sure my adoptive dad was shitty as hell. But my Ma told me even my bio dad loved me like a life line. That he gave me up for my safety! Fuck even the only damn picture I had of my father he looked at baby me like a was the best thing in the world!” Jason snapped he knew he didn’t turn out like Dick or even fucking replacement, the picture perfect son but he knew his Ma and Dad loved him like they were supposed to. The only picture he had of his Dad was destroyed in the explosion. The picture was of his Dad, the somewhat skimpy black haired with white at the nape man, the blue eyed the was cold but looked at him with warmth, the man that had a scar on his lip and inhuman sharp teeth man holding a two or three year old Jason who was sleeping in his fathers lap. He loved that picture like it was the last bit of air on earth. He reminded him that he had someone out there that loved him out of the streets, when he was fighting with Bruce, when he was an idiot and got himself killed.. fuck.. he even tried to yell for him when he was laying on the cold concrete covered in his own blood after the Joker left him.

The being looked at him with wide eyes, it tilted his head and his mouth open a bit like he was gonna say something. That’s when Jason noticed it. The scar on the beings lip. The exact same scar that he used to look for on every man in Gotham when he was younger. The same scar that he looked at for years in the picture of his father. The same scar he wanted to give himself just to have something to remember him.

“Wait-“ Jason started his voice cracked, like a fucking teenager. Then the fucking man himself, Batman, broke through the window making Jason look at him then back over at the being in a panic only to see nothing but an empty room. Not even the summoning circle was there. The only evidence left was Wickham..

#dc x dp #danny phantom #red hood #ghost jason todd #more so ghostling then ghost but meh #ghost king danny #dad danny #jason todd #dick grayson #but he is more a problem then a person here #image I put my daddy issues onto Jason- couldn’t be me.#only wish my daddy issues were more like the story then my dad wanting to get rid of me.#TRAMA DUMP #I hope you guys remember during the hole this the Nightwing ass is right beside Jason’s head because of how he was carrying him.#I found that funny. kinda also forgot that he was there.#womp

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thegaysinmyhead · 11 months ago

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DC X DP IDEA(?)

Guys why is literally no one jumping on a VERY OBVIOUS trope for ghosts??

FUSION?? LIKE STEVEN UNIVERSE STYLE??

Just–hear me out hear me out!

Ghost forms are just extensions of their core, so it makes sense they can be changed right?? Gems physical bodies are just extensions and projections of their gem!!

SO, if going by a lot of phanon core logic, it would make sense if ghosts can have conversations to like fuse or something. Probably to use in battle mostly (ghosts are obviously territorial) but can also be used for love or to protect a weaker/damaged core! JUST IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES!!

Danny being able to fuse literally Steven universe style w his friends because he's a halfa, Danny being able to fuse with Jason because he has a connection because of the pits (Halfa or Revenant Jason Todd), Danny fusing with LITERAL BATMAN as he's the ghost king!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW TERRIFYING THAT WOULD BE???

Jason in the middle of getting sacrificed: :|

Danny, the one being summoned and seeing a poor baby ghost/potential boyfriend material and snatching him to protect him: :)

Bruce:

Tim:

Dick:

Barbara:

Steph:

Cass:

Jason: ¯\(°_o)/¯

Danny: Mine now :)

*he says as their body erupts into flames and they become the most bad ass looking ghost that kicks the cultists asses; Before they started lounging around and reading Jane Austen* (floating laying down is apparently more comfortable than just laying down on something solid, so its nice to float and read)

ORRRR

Justice League facing off an impossibly strong enemy that they have no choice but to look into outside sources to help defeat him (Trigon, Darkseid, something else that probably show up like 4 times a week lmao). Eventually, JLD get wind of a new ghost king who's supposedly kind and benevolent, which is races better than his old counterpart.

With the entire League's permission, begrudgingly Batman's, they summon the Ghost King as a last option and are ready to sacrifice anything for his help (within reason). Imagine their surprise when Danny Fenton, aged somewhere between 16 to 21, pops up in the portal looking frazzled and like he was woken up from a nap. Not even in his ghost form, just blinking owlishly at the League members while gaping like a fish.

"Holy shit—the Justice League?! I'm being summoned by the Justice League?! Ohmygod Tucker is gonna freak"

Constantine butts in looking nervous as hell and sweating buckets, "Your Majesty—"

"Just Danny's fine, I can't believe I'm being summoned by THE Justice League!"

"...Danny. We could really use some of your help, mate. See, we got ourselves an issue we can't really fix ourselves–"

"I'll do it. I'm not even joking, you guys don't even have to ask me twice,"

Everyone in the League (besides Batman) was watching with bated breath at the exchange. The confusion as a random teenager showed up was quickly washed away with how formally he was addressed, but it spiked back up when 'Danny' seemed to...hero worship them?

"—But!"

Ah, there it was. Can never do trades in the occult for free.

"I would really do it for free if I could man, honest! Just...I need to make a teensy weensy deal to be let out of the circle? You guys don't even have to let me do it on my own if you're worried I'll go rogue! You can tie me into a deal about one of you 'using my power' in exchange for like, a cup of coffee or something,"

Now everyone (except Batman, though he seemed to have a clenched jaw) was opening gaping as the omnipotent described being. Being offered something to great...in exchange for a mug of bean water? There had to be a catch, some sort of trickery, but Diana and many others could sense no ill intent on the young king. Constantine had even let up on the nerves as the being continued to speak, relief seeming to crash through his entire body when he realized none of them would have to give up their soul or something. Batman was the first to speak up.

"And if you were...to offer your power to one of us, what would that entail for the mortal or semi-mortal user?"

The king hummed and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, they'd probably be fine. Most of my power would be filtered through myself, so whoever is wielding it wouldn't go mad or suddenly overwhelmed with it. It'd be like turning on the tap while the well is underground, or something close,"

Batman nodded before Danny continued to speak.

"—But, obviously, I reserve the right to take away my power at any point if I see it needed. I would not be mind controlled, nor would I be drained, I would be an observer in the back of whoever decides to be at the other end of the contract until it's fulfilled,"

Constantine stepped forward once again, cigarette all but ash between his lips now, "Contract, right, mate. So uh, one of our sorry blokes gets access to your unfathomable power for the time it takes to beat whatever the hell it is out there. And in exchange, you get a cuppa? Maybe some biscuits and other treats with it to sweeten the deal?"

Danny smiled brightly at the ruffled looking blond and nodded, "Sounds good to me!"

All at once, the room dropped in temperature as the summoning circle around Danny became encased in ice. The ice shimmered an otherworldly dark blue, almost black, and stretched until it reached the feet of the young king. A spark lighted ontop of Danny's head before exploding into a flame, a crown taking shape through the smoke of the fire to sit upon the teenagers head. There was a flash of blue as a ring materialized on the teen's finger, as well as a cape seeming to sew itself from nothing to sit upon his shoulders. Danny looked sheepish as much as he looked serious, his eyes now emanating a neon green with hints of red in his pupil.

"This is kind of the awkward part, whoever what's to use my power will have to form the contract. I don't really feel comfortable with a super or meta using it, with how powerful I am it might cause more damage than repair it, so preferably a human or mostly human host?"

Danny looked so incredibly shy all of a sudden as he rubbed the back of his neck in an incredibly human gesture. The word's were out of Batman's mouth before he even realized he was speaking then.

"I'll do it," The Bat walked forward to stand beside Cobstantine. Constantine pinched his eyebrows together before letting out a nervous chuckle. Danny just seemed to light up.

"Ohmygosh I'm going to be core merging with Batman," the young king seemed to be doing another small fan-boy freakout before coughing and collecting himself.

"Right, right. Contract to do now, tell my Fraid about this later," Danny lifted up a flaming hand towards the edge of the summoning circle, motioning gently to the Bat.

"Heads up, this is going to feel really weird. Just keep holding onto me after the contract sets, and then make sure to get everyone away as fast as possible. You will grow, it's not gonna be very nice if other people are around because you'll squish them,"

The other League members around nodded mutely, eyes staring at Batman as they prayed and wished for his safety. Batman just gruffed and slowly placed his own hand into the awaiting palm. It didn't burn as he thought it would. In fact, it felt quite cold. Like the feeling of putting your bare hand into a pike of snow just to know how it felt. Batman forced himself not to shiver as he felt the contract form through the handshake. The young king sent him a reassuring smile before he seemingly vanished.

No, not vanished. There was a bright light in Bruce's gloves hand that shook with power. The light—sphere, orb?—sunk into his palm, and this time Bruce did shiver. It felt like the biting winds of a blizzard as it crept up his arm to settle in between his ribs. There was a ringing in his ears blocking out the noise around him, but he could faintly make out images of the League rushing away from him and giving a very large berth.

There was a building in his chest, and he felt it pulse like a second heartbeat. Bruce pulled his hands to his sternum and clawed uselessly as the hevlar, the freezing cold threatening to consume him whole inside and out. His chest pulsed, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce heard some of the members try to rush to him, but the JLD held them baback. There was a cracking like ice pulling away from itself, like glaciers splitting, and all of a sudden Bruce felt power rush through his veins.

It should have been overwhelming, it should have terrified him into immeditely creating contingencies, it should have drove him mad with power, but it didn't. Bruce didn't realize his form had grew until he opened his eyes (when did he close them) and blinked down at the members of the League. They were so...small compared to him now. Bruce felt more than he saw the flames dance from his collarbone, and they flickered up high around his thankfully still cowled face. Though, it seemed his face was the cowl right now.

Bruce turned to the being they were fighting (and losing to) moments ago, and smirked. He felt the spike of fear, and he suddenly knew that this thing didn't stand a chance.

GUYS I KNOW BRUCE WOULD NEVER AGREE TO POWERS LMAO LET ME DREAM THO I THINK HE WOULD LOOK COOL ASF AS A GHOST!!

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #danny phantom crossover #danny phantom #ghost king au #ghost king danny #jason todd #red hood #batfam #batman #sam manson #tucker foley #danny fenton #ghost core

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wangxianficfinder · 2 months ago

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Fic Finder

Oct 6th

~*~

1. Hello. I’m hoping you can help me find a fic. In it Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are poisoned at Jinlintai and fake their deaths. Their bodies are brought back to the ancestral hall at cloud recesses and they escape and live away from the cultivation world for many years. Theres two parts and in the second part the sect leaders come to their mountain thinking immortals live there and asking for help dealing with problems they can’t solve. (Ie The Lan sect is dealing with resentful ghost). Thanks!! @vegdawn

FOUND? To live with no regrets Series by Lyna_Mei (E, 96k, WIP, WangXian, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Angst, Self-Esteem Issues, Golden Core Reveal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Developing Relationship, non-consensual marriage, CQL-Verse, Case Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Cultivation Sect Politics, Cultivation World Critical, Not JGY Friendly, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian)

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2. hi this is for the fic finder! i’m looking for a fic i read which i’m pretty sure is completed. it should be wangxian, modern au, and i think wwx was living alone (maybe estranged from the jiangs?) and i think mo xuanyu and xue yang were kid brothers who lived in his building that came to hang out with him sometimes? and he was sorta like a big brother to them? this wasn’t a major plot point but it was definitely there. and a-yuan may or may not have been there, either living with wwx or the wens in the same building. does anyone know what this is?

FOUND? Visitations by Vir_Abelasan (M, 18k, WIP, WangXian, past XiYao, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Reconciliation, Father-Son Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Custody Arrangements, Not a revenge fic, Past Abuse)

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3. Looking for a highly specific fic where WWX is forced to wear scantily clad armour that only covers his nipples and man-bits as a punishment by Madam Yu. Wangxian encounter each other in a night-hunt sort of thing, but its not set in the jianghu but an AU where its more fantasy magic with warlocks, that sort of thing? There is a specific scene where WWX has to go change the armor and it hurts alot and makes LWJ very sad and angry at madam yu?? GOSH HELP its been stuck in my head foreverr thank u

FOUND? 🔒 His Knight in Shining Armour by celerydragon (E, 23k, WangXian, dead dove do not eat, Curses, Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Slut Shaming, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, yu furen sucks, protective lwj, Hurt/Comfort, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, mild dirty talk, Biting, Outdoor Sex)

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4. Hello, I am looking for an AO3 Fix it Fic where all the sects bring gifts to the Burial Mounds to compete showing who is the most generous. @hopefulbeardface-blog

FOUND? The Untamed: A Dinner to Remember by YenGirl (Not Rated, 33k, WangXian, XuanLi, post sunshot, Indulgent Fic, Feed WY & the Wen survivors, Some angst, Some humour, Dinner is about family and love, Some Fluff, Soft Boys, Manly Tears, JGS is still greedy, Possible OOC-ness, No hundred holes curse, Unreliable Narrator, accidental heroes, Some violence and gore in Chap 9, Redeemed JGY, Redeemed SS)

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5. HI!!!this is for a fic finder, it had madam yu as a super toxic parent idrm bt maybe she was also abusive, she sends wwx to this school owned by the lans and i think theres 2 divisions, 1 for the smart kids and one for the delinquents

the school is super weird and strict , lqr is especially mean to wwx and all the staff is aswell and they do horrible things to him and in the end i think lxc exposes his uncles school?? wwx and lzh get tg to.

Thankyou!! @jnxi839

~*~

6. Hi! For FicFinder

The fic I'm looking for is canon divergence, I believe. I can't remember if it had time travel or not, but Wei Ying left the Jangs before the war. I think there was focus on his inventions. The only clear details I can remember are the Jins giving him multiple chests full of gold, and them sending him someone to his rooms in the night. The person gets caught in an array at the door. Also, there were two Lans assigned to help Wei Ying. Thanks in advance! @rens-shadow

FOUND? Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing)

~*~

7. Fic finder please!🙏

A wlw wangxian where LWJ was self conscious about her body bc LQR wasn’t really helpful when she was going through puberty and bought her too small bras and stuff and then she meets wwx, much later on who encourages her to wear what she likes and love her body. There’s a scene with them on the couch cuddling and idk how it ends bc ao3 went down and I lost my tab!! 😭😭😭

FOUND? your lips, my lips, apocalypse by lily_winterwood (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern, Fashion & Models, College/University, Lingerie, Burlesque, Rule 63, partial genderswap, Not Everyone is Cisswapped, Nonbinary Character, Trans Male Character, Female LWJ, Female WWX, Trans LXC, References to conservative Chinese family values, Mild Transphobia, Body Dysphoria, Self-Esteem Issues, Brief reference to eating disorders, Sexism, Pining, Filial Piety, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Gender Changes)

~*~

8. fic finder help! there is a modern fic where lan zhan and Wei ying are best friends and the fic starts off with Wei ying asking lan zhan to call off work to play hooky for the day. eventually we find out Wei ying quit his job (he's working with the jiangs). it was part of a series I think. @the-marathon-continues-nip

FOUND! in good time by magicianprince (T, 11k, WangXian, Slice of Life, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Modern AU, modern with cultivation (pretty background tho), lwj has a cat, and some unresolved feelings! oh boy, "in good time" by magicianprince [Podfic] by The_Grynne)

~*~

9. Looking for a fic where lan xichen and possibly lan qiren? go into a meeting with the elders, who have been giving Wei wuxian a hard time, and they hand out lists of rules that the elders have each individually have broken @lonelyreverances-corner

~*~

10. hi i have a request: i want to find fanfic which included older lan wangji (i think he was older by 7 years) who meets wei wuxian in yiling and it is their first meeting. he and lan xichen are twins and it is mostly focused on lwj visiting burial mounds and wy and lz have a sex not long after they meet first time. i think it counted from 20 to 30 (or 35) chapters and it also had 18+ fanarts

FOUND? Awaiting Your Return by Karmiya (E, 126k, WangXian, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, the opposite of slow burn, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Age Difference, discussions of wwx's canonical abusive childhood)

~*~

11. Hi! I'm looking for a fic (I think it may be a series of fics) where Wei Wuxian was accused of spying on Lan Corp. I think this is one where Lan Wangji believes in him the entire time and leaves his family over the accusations. I don't remember if he served any time or not, but the truth comes out that he was innocent (thanks in part to NHS). WWX and LWJ live with Wens, started a company with them, and live in the same building with them.

FOUND?🔒 moonlight falls Series by RoseThorne (T, 19k, WangXian, Modern, Found Family, Corporate Espionage, Bunnies, Adoption, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, References to Depression, Anxiety, Blind Character, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Confrontations, Bad Parent LQR, Dissociation, Mental Health Issues, Anniversary, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Emotional Constipation, Communication Failure, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC is Trying, WWX Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Sex, Food Sex, Friendship, Reconciliation, Psychological Trauma)

~*~

12. hi! i am looking for a fic that is a juniors time-travel fix it. i know they go back in time to right before jin zixuan gets killed and save him, the juniors reveal that wangxian are married in the future, and then also there is a scene where jin zixuan and jiang yanli tell older jin ling that he is their son, too, even though baby jin ling is there. thank you so much! @whenstarsignite

FOUND! ❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

NOT FOUND! Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor)

~*~

13. Hi! I'm looking for two fics. I think I initially saw B on this page, but I can't find it anywhere

A) A meteor crashed near college student WWX’s house, where he finds a shape-shifting bunny/toddler alien A-Yuan. LWJ is also a different kind of alien.

B) I think it takes place in a camp after defeating the Wen. JGY spikes the Lan's tea with alcohol. LWJ and WWX spend the night together, but by morning the Jiang siblings think it was noncon. Eventually JGY confesses that it was JGS's idea to serve alcohol.

13A)

FOUND! Lost and Found by diamondbruise (E, 52k, WangXian, Modern AU, Aliens, Slow Burn, Alien LWJ, Crack Treated Seriously, Soulmates, Kid Fic…..kind of, i use that tag very loosely, Masturbation, Rough Sex, canon typical cnc elements, Happy Ending)

13B)

FOUND! The Teapot Plot by ToxicAngel13 (M, 52k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Misunderstandings, Plots, protective Jiang siblings, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Damn Jins, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Burial Mounds, Potential for M-Preg, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots Everywhere, LWJ ’s Biting Kink, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective WQ, JGS is his own warning, Protective JYL)

~*~

14. hiya! for the fic finder, i'm struggling to find a fic i read a few months ago - not sure if it's been deleted or not. i am fairly certain it was an a/b/o au where wwx was carrying lwj's kid by the time he ended up in the burial mounds and basically he kept control of the spirits by asking the female ghosts to help him protect him unborn baby. wen qing also refused to take his golden core because of the baby and jiang cheng ended up with wen ning's core instead going into the sunshot campaign. the wen siblings and the wen remnants live in this au and help wwx raise his daughter after she's born. somewhere along the way wwx tells his siblings and lwj about his daughter too.

second fic i've been looking for, but not as much of a priority to me as the first one, all i remember about this one was lwj found out about wwx giving up his core almost immediately after it happened and wwx lets lwj help him sooner. one scene i remember was wwx and jiang cheng were arguing and jiang cheng uses zidian on wwx and mortally wounds him and stops wwx heart (i think?)

thank you for your help in advance! <3

14A)

FOUND! 🧡 Don’t Wanna Fall by nekojita (M, 111k, WangXian, Mpreg, A/B/O, Fix-it, Lots of pining, Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence, Child thief WN)

14B)

FOUND! these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, …eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign)

~*~

15. Hi! This is for fic finder. There are 2 fic that i want to read

A) It short fic. JYL and WWX likes to play the "xianxian is 3 years old". I dont remember how but NMJ knows and ask to join with NHS. JYL give them permission, thinking it was like a play between her and WWX. Then they (JYL and WWX) found out it was different. Between JYL and WWX is like a play pretend but between NMJ and NHS is different in a way that NHS transform into a 3 years old child

B) The story is between yunmeng trio and nie sibs. JGY wants to make the nies and jiangs enemy. He then found out that NHS didnt have a single blood of nie. In the discussion conference, he invite nhs blood aunt that thinking nhs deserve better than become the second young master of the nie and revealed that nhs is jfm child not the former nie's sect leader. I only remember that

Thanks

15A)

FOUND? Little by nirejseki (T, 3k, NHS & JC & WWX & NMJ, Age Regression/De-Aging, Non-Sexual Age Play, Misunderstandings)

~*~

16. I'm hoping you guys can help me find a fic I vaguely remember. It was fox!wwx and I think he was in an arranged marriage to lwj, but before he left he cut off a tail and left it as a present for JC to find (I think) when he got back to Lotus Pier.

I think I've read #16, was the Jiangs doing a silk/cloth dyeing business and JYL was super sick, and Wei ying was conscripted to be part of the search for a mate for prince ? I'll try to find it if it is

FOUND! #16 reminds me of the deleted "Bleeding Bones, Aching Hearts " by scarletmoontears. Do you remember if Wei Ying was a war general of Yunmeng Jiang and was sent as a warprize to the Lans?

~*~

17. Hi!! I'm looking for a fic. This is a Modern AU where WWX fakes his death (I think because of Madam Yu) and LWJ sends him voice and text messages during his grieving process. Everything changes when WWX accidentally answers one of those messages and LWJ finds out he's not dead. I don't recall more. Thank you so much for your help!! @fantasiacoral-blog

FOUND? Love Don’t Belong To Me by airinshaw (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern, Getting Together, Kissing, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attack, WWX’s canonical self-esteem issues, Canonical Child Abuse, not as dark as the tags imply, Past Relationships mention)

~*~

18. Hello! This if for a fic finder

A) mo xuanyu is a ghost that stays with wwx i think he and wwx can both be concious in the body? Idrm much but it was wwx/mxy/lwj

B) this was a modern au lan jingyi came out to his parents or something like that and they gor abusive , jiangcheng ends up adopting jingyi or smth like that they tale him to a doctor too I remember jiangcheng and lan xichen were dating

18A)

FOUND? Serrated by InkSplatterM and MrMissMrsRandom (E, 194k, WangXianYu, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, Past Abuse, Canon Divergence, MXY Lives, spirit possession, 2/3 men are virgin idiots, WWX is an emotional dunce, MXY is gay and tired, LWJ finds his heart is very large, Discussions of Suicide, Suicide Attempt, victim self-blame, Panic Attacks, mentions of past sexual abuse, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Outdoor Sex, Exhibitionism, light cum play, Praise Kink, gentle dirty talk, D/s elements, Under-negotiated Kink, Dom MXY, Sub LWJ)

~*~

19. Hello! I'm looking for a modern au fic wherein i think lwj and wwx are roommates. wwx is writing a paper on the effect of spanking on children and asks lwj to spank him to experience it firsthand. i think there's a couple of instances where wwx forgets to clear out the sink and stuff and gets spanked for it and then gets aftercare??? i think there's some dialogue that goes like "my hand. no french. over the couch" idk?? I cannot seem to find it

FOUND! "The Efficacy of Spanking on Behavioural Change" by redscudery (E, 15k, WangXian, SL/WWX, Platonic BDSM, Oblivious WWX, Spanking, we all know this is not platonic, With One Exception, Bisexual Disaster WWX, Light Dom/sub, not a single brain cell was consulted, Boys Kissing, Boys In Love, Getting Together, First Time, Lube Shenanigans, mild alcohol and marijuana use, Non-graphic vomiting, big bisexual awakenings r us, Love Confessions, Modern, Canada)

~*~

20. Hi I would like to ask if you know the title of the story in ao3 that I read back then. It’s like burial mound setting, they made a village inside the Burial Mounds but it’s hidden in the rock and no one can enter but then they invited Lan Xichen in their home. Thank you have a nice day ahead!

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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markrosewater · 3 months ago

Note

Not to belabor the discussion, but there's 2 parts to the nadu discussion that I feel are being overlooked/misinterpreted. One. The card was already in a fine playable state and was largely unnecessary to change, but it was changed specifically to make it play better in commander, which ended up completely breaking it because it was a major change after testing was done. Two. It was proven to be ban worthy at the PT, maybe before. If you had banned it then nobody would have cared nearly as much

I'm not going to address the banning issues as that is outside the scope of design and far from my area. There are plenty of lessons to learn there, but not my areas of expertise.

Here's what happened. Set design is making the set. They, along with (competitive) play design, choose the cards that they think have any potential being relevant to Modern. Play design does a lot of playtesting on that group of cards. This includes a group of pros brought in specifically for this set.

The cards that aren't considered to be relevant to to competitive play are tagged as casual. The set design lead then has the casual play design team look at those cards just as the competitive play design team looks at the Modern relative ones.

The casual play design team is looking at many factors. They want the cards to be as fun as possible for the more casual crowd. Part of that search is influenced by the Commander format, as its the tabletop format that sees the most casual play. (Note "cards you own" is not an actual format.)

There's a version of Nadu doing something that has proven unfun in Commander (and thus assumed would probably be unfun in other casual games), so the casual play design team gives a note on it, much like the competitive play design team gives notes on tournament cards. The set designer, trying to do their due diligence, changes the card to avoid the problem at hand. The change is to move the card away from a state that wasn't fun.

Yes, the change ended up causing problems, but the core of what was happening was a last minute change to address a known issue. It was us trying to not repeat a mistake we had made before. The place that mistake had been noticed was from Commander, but we don't limit fixing mistakes based on where the mistake came from. Design X caused an issue last time we made it, let's not use design X again. We don't say "This set's main focus is Modern so let's only fix the mistake if it was previously witnessed in a Modern game."

So, the card wasn't in a "playable state". It was marked as doing something that had proven problematic in past games. The fix itself proved problematic, but whether or not you fix something can't be determined by the end quality of the fix, because that's not something you completely know at the time of fixing it.

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ryleektv · 1 month ago

Text

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcannons

Part 1

Warnings: some suggestive content, language, not proof read, kinda mean Enzo

all my opinions, don't come after me 🙏

WC: 571

• 6'1-6'2 and doesn't stfu about it (especially when making fun of 5'9 Draco)

• has the most hookups out of everyone (maybe theo is close behind but this hoe gives off fuckboy energy on another level)

• really kind eyes (gives off baby cow eyes vibe) and uses them to get what he wants

• like imagine though, he has such pretty and kind eyes but he's a little shit who uses them to get in your pants?? test answers?? even just cutting in front of you in line??? hello??? rude?? and the puppy dog eyes?? deadly.

• skincare game is on point. he will not take criticism from the guys who make fun of him for not being a typical 5-in-1 soap man (has really good expensive conditioner too)

• speaking of hair, its so soft and fluffy and somehow always perfect. definitely pays way too much to get his hair cut because this man will not be caught dead with a bad hair day, let alone a whole bad haircut

• major trauma dumper when shit faced drunk.

• he had a few too many beers? you don't have worry about alcohol poisoning but you better be ready to hear about how much he hates his dad but still craves a relationship with him and how he hasn't taken a single step to even think about fixing his major mommy issues

• however if you go back to a few beers prior and he's not got a care in the world and he's entirely thinking with his dick. so be careful or you'll get a hookup and his entire life story all before he even knows your last name.

• LIAR. this man will lie to get out of EVERYTHING (or even just because he can)

• ^probably goes back to the whole emotionally abusive parents thing but now he just thinks he does it for fun

• knows all the drama. knows everyone and their mother and their cousin's grandma's friend's aunt's pet fish that died 20 years ago

• you need to know if your man is cheating on you?? lorenzo will tell you every single detail (especially the ones you didn't want to know)... for a price though, the price in question depends entirely on his mood too

• and if you need dirt on someone?? this boy knows that one thing they did two years ago in the prefect bathroom that could still get them expelled. trust

• COMMITMENT ISSUES (me too boo) like it's soooooooooo bad

• oh he actually likes a girl??? she likes him back??? this is great??? she wants a relationship??? where'd his feelings go???

• actually upset about it though because commitment issues suck and now he wants the girl who would rather drink goblin piss than ever look in his direction instead of the girl he liked yesterday that actually liked him back

• studies hard core and tells NOBODY.

• bro is in the library at 3 in the morning after hours of trying to cram for the test that day because he couldn't find time sooner

• studying actually pays off though and he gets good grades (occasional cheater tbh)

• cannot physically stop himself from making a sex joke. (totally pisses off blaise)

"its wet" "thats what she said" "the fiELD. THE FUCKING QUIDDITCH FIELD IS WET BECAUSE IT RAINED, LORENZO."

• him and mattheo are a dangerous duo

• feels unexpected too but enzo, matt, and theo are like the three musketeers from hell.

maybe part 2 soon....

#lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini

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linnaealyn · 1 year ago

Text

Old mod page, abandoned 3/2/24; New mod page @ Godsibb

Finally, after 2 years of work, it is complete. -But still being updated.

There's a Japanese version of the mod now!

今は日本語版のMODがある！

This is a mod for Xenogears using Retroarch's Beetle PSX HW core real-time texture replacement feature. (It requires the Vulkan driver, so make sure your graphics card supports that.) (Duckstation doesn't have a similar option, unfortunately.)

It replaces every single character dialogue portrait, menu portrait, & (almost every) battle portrait (looking at you, Yggdra officer Gear pilots) with high quality, cleaned up artwork, as well as recreated high quality UI while keeping it as close to the original game as possible.

And best thing about it is, if there's anything you don't like about it, like certain aspects of the UI, you can locate and delete that file from the folder. Everything is optional. (if you have any questions as to what's what, drop them into my dms)

Current version: 1.4

現在の日本語版: 1.4

(More screenshots below download info and UI changes.)

Being a real-time texture replacer, it should work with any English version of XG, both base-game and modded/patched. Any fan-translated patch using the US version as a base should display correctly.

There's a separate version for the Japanese version of the game. May need some editing still with other characters' UI ("Ether"/"Spells"/"Arcane"/etc) but for the most part its good to go in terms of battle UI. Let me know if you find any errors.

(I've been using it with the Perfect Works Build mod. Highly recommended!)

(Note!!: If you use PWB mod, don't use its "readjusted portraits" patch when patching your rom, as that patch interferes with this mod's portraits texture replacing.)

(It works on Steam Deck... but don't ask me for details in setting that up in particular, I don't own one 😅)

~~~

Download/ダウンロード

I recommend reading the instructions txt files I included in the DL.

This includes information such as how to set up .cue and .m3u files, swapping discs, renaming the texture folder, Retroarch settings and Beetle PSX HW Core settings to get the mod working, settings suggestions for making a cleaner looking and faster playing XG (YMMV), and settings to fix certain emulation issues Ive come across (freezing on fast-forward, crackling audio during 3D/effects-heavy cutscenes/gameplay, blank screen during Rico flashback, etc).

~~~~~~~~~~

-Changes made to the UI include:

Menu UI:

selection triangle, Walk/Gear icons

menu portraits

▲ ■ ● ✖ button DeathBlow menu icons

ABXY button DeathBlow menu icon- alternate textures

Battle UI and on-foot specific battle UI:

Circular battle palette and tags behind text

Battle palette text, "Combo", "Return", "Enter", "Miss", "EP", & HP/DMG/heal/AP numbers

HP/AP bars

"Time", "fuel", "total damage", AP numbers, "1/2/3 point(s)", "cancel end"

battle portraits

▲ ■ ● ✖ button DeathBlow icons

ABXY button Deathblow icons- alternate textures

Bottom screen mid-DeathBlow ▲ ■ ✖ icons (unfortunately, there's no way to change the other mid-DB quadruple-button icons)

Combo 1-7 and Accept icons

In-Gear specific battle UI:

"fuel" and fuel numbers

"Fuel" (when using boost)

fuel bars (top and left)

All Gear status menus' green text/numbers

Attack level numbers and ∞

Gear menu backgrounds

Gear "power shut down", "camera damaged", "out of fuel", etc, statuses

background UI elements, runes, triple red triangles, Gear lock-on UI (unfortunately, there's no way to change the circular part of this UI)

Misc UI changes:

Red/grey spheres (in the menu and loading screen)

All instances of selection diamonds, both horizontal and vertical

Load/save screen "CARD 1"/"2" text, memory card icon, load/save bar/text

Disc 1 and 2 maps (with alternate color versions; makes the enterable area indicators harder to see though)

NESW compass letters (unfortunately, there's no way to change the circular compass texture)

~~~~~

-Screenshots (before & after and alts):

And Japanese version's (日本語版) UI:

⬇!!Spoilers in images further down!!⬇

I won't be showing all portraits here; only the ones worth mentioning.

Portraits created for the mod that have no artwork equivalent:

Portraits to match their sprites vs official unedited artwork:

(default on left, alt on right)

Roni/Medena/Erich edited sprite equivalent vs their official PW art

Citan edited unsmiling (dialogue-only) sprite equivalent vs official smiling art)

Krelian(s) edited sprite equivalent vs official art

Portrait alts created for fun:

Both sides of scar-eyed Bart

Two-eyed Bart

Kim lab coat with glasses

Fei-colored Id

Fei-colored Id with Id's yellow eyes

Fei-colored young & older Emeralda

(might add to this list later. have any suggestions? fun ideas? lmk. It doesn't have to be canon-compliant.)

Screenshots of alt portraits in-use:

I'll continue to update this and subsequently reblog it as new versions are released.

With any new updates, just DL and replace/overwrite the old folder.

In-progress tumblr post of the past as a bit of a time capsule for myself 😄

#Xenogears #Xenogears modding #Playstation modding #modding #texture pack #Playstation classic #my mods #Xenogears texture pack; PAW #long post #image heavy #Last edited: Feb-19-24

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volo-thereforeiam · 6 months ago

Note

"Choice feminism" is bad for women in East Asia? What are you on about? Are you seriously rather subscribe to radical feminism that is so white and fail to account WOC and women from the global south in general? Are you seriously going to subscribe to a transphobic movement? You can't say this kind of feminism isn't transphobic because look at 4B or 6B4T in South Korea and China. The movement explicitly exclude transwomen and has been glorified to death by mostly white women. If anything I say the feminism that includes transwomen is good for East Asia to fix the transphobia problem. I feel sorry for transpeople in East Asia if all the feminists are like you.

I'm just going to elaborate point by point.

"'Choice feminism' is bad for women in East Asia? What are you on about?" On paper, choice feminism sounds great because it empowers women to do whatever they want, as long as it's their choice. In reality, women have been groomed to "choose" things that primarily benefit men. People don't make choices in a vacuum; we're influenced by our environment. When strict gender roles and expectations for women still exist aggressively in East Asia, the path of least resistance is to conform to those values. East Asian women "choose" to be housewives and follow exhaustive beauty regimes because society is kinder to them when they do. Or they think these choices are good for them due to moral grooming. Let me ask you: if a conservative, religious, sheltered, and uneducated woman chooses to marry a man 20 years older and have 5+ babies, how much of that is truly her choice? What women need is not empowerment, but agency.

"Are you seriously rather subscribe to radical feminism that is so white and fail to account WOC and women from the global south in general?" That's an interesting perspective, anon! I'd love to hear more about why you consider radical feminism to be "white" someday. Personally, I think liberal feminism (or 3rd wave feminism/choice feminism, I use these terms interchangeably) is the movement that fails to account for women from the global south. While it's true that liberal feminism is quite inclusive, it is still mostly US/Europe-centric (and for simplicity, I include Canada and Australia in the same category). This means that when it accounts for WOC, it's primarily considering WOC who live in those regions. It is known as "Western feminism" for a reason. Radical feminism, on the other hand, doesn't need to work as hard to include WOC from the global south because those women already tend to gravitate towards it instead of liberal feminism. The reason is that liberal feminism has shifted its focus from women’s issues to a broader concern with gender. When women outside the US and Europe haven’t even secured basic rights directly tied to their sex, why should they align with a movement that has moved on to different concerns?

"Are you seriously going to subscribe to a transphobic movement? You can't say this kind of feminism isn't transphobic because look at 4B or 6B4T in South Korea and China. The movement explicitly exclude transwomen and has been glorified to death by mostly white women." 4B and 6B4T at the core are meant to serve as direct opposition of South Korea and China's patriarchal state and combat its aggressive pro-natalist policies, which view women’s bodies and reproductive abilities as tools for the state’s future. Other aspects of the movement, such as rejecting rigid beauty standards and degrading depictions of women in otaku culture, are part of women's effort to not make themselves (excuse the wording) look "breedable". I hope it’s clear why transwomen can't be included in this specific movement.

Regarding the movement being glorified mainly by white women, I'm not aware it is the case because my focus isn't on the West like yours is. But even if we accept your claim as true, how does the support from white women automatically make the movement fundamentally "white" (and, by implication, bad in your view)? Roe v. Wade was just overturned, so it's understandable that Western women, especially Americans, would take an interest in the 4B movement. Or maybe they simply empathize with their fellow women. Let me ask you this: for someone so determined to include transwomen in every feminist movement, why do you consider white women less of women?

"If anything I say the feminism that includes transwomen is good for East Asia to fix the transphobia problem. I feel sorry for transpeople in East Asia if all the feminists are like you." Or we could have separate movements that collaborate when necessary but don't have to be synonymous. Why does feminism need to stretch itself thin to cover every issue? Isn't that one of the factors Roe v. Wade was overturned despite majority in the US disapproved supreme court decision? Feminism in the West has been defanged so much by consumerism, sex empowerment and gender issues. I also believe having a movement specifically for trans people allows for a focus on their unique issues, making it more effective.

You don't need to be sorry for transpeople here because what I'm fighting for can ultimately benefit them too. You policing women's advocacy movement, however, does not benefit anyone.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist safe #anon ask

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mdhwrites · 2 months ago

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Gravity Falls Versus The Owl House: How Did It Write It's Women; A Flawed Comparison

If you compare a wlw story and an mlm story and ask which story used women better, 9/10 you're going to to get the answer you expect. One story prioritizes a gender over the other and so they are going to utilize that gender better, just how like some genres will inherently be in a better place to use certain elements better. Would you compare a shounen show and a slice of life show for which one has better action? No, because that would be an unfair comparison.

That is what this blog is actually about. It's about rhetorical devices we use in our debates and arguments. Because why do people even ask this question? Dipper is the main character of Gravity Falls, above all others. Luz is the main character of TOH, above all others. His core supporting cast is mostly guys with one who is a girl, Mabel, who is used as a comedic balance to him and then one more beyond that with Wendy. Luz has a primarily female cast around her with the exceptions of one core member, King, who is used as a comedic balance to her, and Gus beyond that. Both shows include both genders but by all means, they do not use them in the same way. Their priorities are different. Gravity Falls is a very male centric story. TOH is a very female centric story. So... What's the better comparison?

Does The Owl House write male characters better than Gravity Falls writes its female characters? I can't give an answer to that because I haven't watched Gravity Falls but so long as you take in the legwork to make comparable comparisons, fair comparisons, I would say the core issue people have with how the secondary gender is used in each work is valid.

From what I have heard, the problem people have with the female characters in Gravity Falls is that they're underutilized and that their plots focus around romance. Now, romance is not a negative thing in and of itself so we need to properly analyze this complaint. The problem with the focus being on romance is that the homogeny of it across characters flattens them, made worse by using something that is seen as such a stereotypical, basic plot for the gender. Is there a counter to that amongst guys? Yeah. Machismo. If you write a dude character, inadequacy, proving himself and flexing his toxic masculinity is essentially the number one most basic plot because that's what testosterone does to someone.

We all remember that S1 King is literally just toxic masculinity incarnate, right? Like literally every episode is just about him using others in order to make himself look better before learning to treat people better but then not actually doing so. It's really shitty, one dimensional and oh right, that's also what Gus is doing in his two episodes (both of them include lying to make himself look better) and also Hunter's entire life in the EC is about proving himself better than others, even at the cost of others which is the closest this element comes to actually being addressed. So... Yeah, I would say that they are 2 dimensional, homogeneous characters who are all just some amount of stereotype of 'dude'. The loud dude, the silly dude and the tragic dude. And yes, we can argue that these change but Gus loses his entire character, Hunter just becomes tragedy and Gus goes with most common plot B for both genders: Daddy issues. It's like trying to say because Mabel also likes girly things, she's some nuanced character. A second stereotypical trait does not a stereotype fix.

So, once again, why do we ask which show wrote women better? Well, there's two cynical answers and one I find more interesting but sadly the least likely. The first is that Gravity Falls still has more clout than Amphibia, TOH and many other cartoons with female focus coming out right now. As such, being able to get an easy, cheap win makes the show you like more look better. It's explicitly using the unfair comparison maliciously, even if not consciously maliciously.

Two: For a lot of extremely valid and good reasons, we analyze how women are written and kind of just ignore writing the male gender. Like when was the last time you saw something, outside of I guess the times I've talked about how TOH is fucking awful at writing guys, analyzing male writing that wasn't just whining about not putting a female lead into the work they want. To make it clear, that's not what this is. Even now, I do have to include that I don't think TOH's writers were being misandrists or the like. No, this comparison explicitly showcases how the show recycled how other shows handle their secondary gender and thus recreated all of its problems. It's not malicious but it is something that happens when you aren't being actually smart about your storytelling .

Three: TOH never really even attempts to pretend like its male characters are anything but jokes. Like... Literally ever. The closest is trauma child Hunter and the point of him is "Look how miserable this fucker is." Otherwise, they rarely come up in plotlines, especially plotlines the fandom remembers, and are the constant butt of jokes. Episode one of TOH has King be mocked for the things he will be mocked for for the entire season and his one moment of real pathos being how childish he is and that being a bit charming. Compare that to episode one of Gravity Falls where even as early as that, the push and pull of priorities between the twins is creating conflict between them but also strength between them. The first time a male character is given ANYTHING like that is Hunter, who shows up in S2 and Hunter is not complex. People want him to be, which is why people talk about JUST Hunter, but in general, he isn't. He's just a worse Amity because he is simplified to just trauma and the need to prove himself and little more.

Quick note: Yes I'm focusing on the guys on the good side but the Collector and Belos are still both examples of toxic masculinity, just, you know, very explicitly and in very awful ways when related to the modern day. Also, neither get much screen time really. They're both absentee villains, leading to stuff like how The Collector is an entirely inconsistent character and Belos doesn't get things like a backstory.

All of this though, the lack of attention, importance, etc. like that creates the fact that... Why would you want to talk about the guys? Why would you consider them to be a similar grouping to the girls in Gravity Falls? It is genuinely a fair blind spot. I mean, who fucking remembers the fact that King has three plus B plots in S1 where the whole premise is "King gets a minion and learns that using people is a bad thing?" Those parts of the show are boring, bland and repetitive so just dump them and move on.

People compare the girls in Gravity Falls to other shows because they care about them. That's WAY better than you can say about the guys in TOH. That doesn't make the comparison fair though so if you really wanna do some proper analysis, maybe think a little broader next time? Otherwise, you might forget to take a whole gender of people seriously, just like both of these shows. See you next tale.

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Small note: Just like how a romance plot for a female character is not inherently a bad idea, neither is one about incompetence and machismo for a male one. It's the stereotypical story for that gender for a reason because boy are we some stupid dumbasses out to prove ourselves.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #gravity falls analysis

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echo-heo · 2 years ago

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Problem with Discord's new (and old) font(s) and its treatment of non-Latin text

Before getting into it, I'm gonna say that I'm not going to criticize its aesthetics or "readability". These feedbacks are rarely helpful from the designer's perspective especially coming from people who don't know much about what goes into designing a typeface, and because readability is really, really subjective.

I was happy to hear that discord was changing its font, especially when I found out that they are adding support for Vietnamese. Previously, discord used Whitney, a humanist sans serif font with Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic support. Unfortunately, Whitney doesn't support all Latin characters in Unicode, and crucially it doesn't support Vietnamese characters.

Text font not supporting a script is usually not a problem, the fallback font will take care of it for you. The problem occurs when there's partial support. Vietnamese uses Latin, but it also has a ton of precomposed vowels with diacritics. This is what Vietnamese looks like on my phone, where the font change hasn't taken effect yet:

here's the same text with unsupported characters highlighted in red:

It might not look that weird because the fallback font on my phone happened to be somewhat similar in style to Whitney, but depending on the device it may be completely unreadable. I submitted a feedback a while ago asking them to address this issue

This is why when I heard that discord was changing its font to add Vietnamese characters, I was excited. This is what the same text looks like in gg sans.

All characters harmonious!

However, after receiving the update I was disappointed because the new font now no longer supports Greek and Cyrillic. This alone is not really a big problem, because Greek, Cyrillic and Latin characters rarely occur in the same word. Although it is disappointing that they are no longer harmonious, it's not that big of a problem. The problem though, is that they decided to include Δ, Ω, μ, π (capital delta, capital omega, lowercase mu, and lowercase pi) into the font.

Depending on the device and rendering settings, it might look like it fits well with the fallback font, being almost unnoticeable, or so noticeable that it's hard to read. These four glyphs are often included in typefaces that only support Latin as they are often included in Latin lettersets because of their use in mathematics and science, so I thought it was simply an odd oversight.

Then I found out about this:

(As of 2022/12/3 9:22 pm UTC+9 I couldn't recreate this. It may be because of css setting or because they've already fixed it. I'm hoping it is the latter) They decided to include katakana characters to be only used in the shrug emoticon.

I was massively disappointed when I heard this news because it means they did not care at all about global accessibility when making the new font. I was under the impression that they were doing it at least partially to address this issue. I was under the impression that maybe they've heard us complain and complain about the font only having partial support for Vietnamese. Maybe they've realized the core problem. But no, it's clear that they still don't know what the problem is.

Maybe I should have realized it sooner. Did you know, Discord limits the amount of diacritics that can be attached to a single character, even though in a lot of non-Latin writing systems diacritics are crucial because they represent vowels, consonant clusters, et cetera?

Moreover, did you know that Discord has a limit on how many diacritics you can have in a single message? This means if you have a copy pasta in abugida writing systems such as Devanagari, Thai, Khmer, Lao, Bengali, Burmese, et cetera, the vowel diacritics are just going to disappear after a while, rendering the text unreadable?

Affected portion underlined in red. I assume these are done to prevent zalgo, which really shouldn't be done by Discord itself, not to mention that typical "zalgo" diacritics are usually IPA diacritics with actual use, which can often stack in a zalgo-like fashion.

Did you know that Discord enforces strict text line height, even though some writing systems need more horizontal space than latin to be legible? Anything outside of the bounds are cut off and rendered invisible.

Anyway, do you remember when I said I wasn't going to talk about aesthetics and readability? I kind of lied. I am going to talk about them.

A lot of people seem to be saying that the new font is bad and that it's significantly less readable than the previous font. I have doubts about whether this is actually because of the font itself or because they're simply not used to it yet. My guess would be the latter. However, that doesn't mean the solution is to make these people shut up and wait till they get used to it.

There is no universal solution for readability and legibility. The truth is that different people have different needs, and this is no different when it comes to typefaces. Ideally, discord should provide an option to change fonts. Many platforms do. They've been refusing to implement it because, I dunno, brand image?

There is also a bigger problem with how UI designers design in general. They only design around Latin in mind, even though different writing systems use space differently. Many Brahmic scripts use ligatures and diacritics stacking above or below the main character. If you care about non-Latin scripts not appearing illegible, make it so that UI elements can accommodate for that, or something.

I'm bad at writing conclusions, so there you have it. Me rambling about a thing that I care about that apparently everyone else should too.

#accessibility #writing systems #type design #discord #typography #long post

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centrally-unplanned · 6 months ago

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To narrow in on the limits of campaigning, lets take the classic Yglesias axe to grind:

Republican elites were profoundly divided on the wisdom of renominating Trump and obviously plenty of them think it was a mistake. But the decision has been made, and now they either vocally support that call or they stay politely quiet. When Trump feints to the center, those who favor the move loudly amplify it and exaggerate the extent of Trump's moderation, those who don't stay politely quiet and hope for the best. The Dem coalition, by contrast, is tchetchy and every constituent element feels that everything is up for constant renegotiation on a day-to-day basis — everyone's priority is on standing within the coalition not on doing the work to win.

In practice, what is being described here is that Republican organizations have fallen in line. Politicians are campaigning for Trump, activist groups are saying to vote, the media is full court press in his favor. They actively silence and push away from problems, focus on strengths, campaign on the ground, etc. This is effective for mobilizing voters and persuading sympathetic-but-undecideds. I agree with that.

The critique is that the democrats haven't done that, right? In practice, it means politicians aren't campaigning on the ground, media isn't shutting up about his issues, activists are sniping their own coalition instead of getting out the vote, and so on. And that is hurting Biden.

Or is it? It is to some degree, this critique is correct at some margin. If Biden could have a unified party going full-throttle, his polls numbers would be higher by X%. And some actors should switch behavior due to that. But I don't think, realistically, X is at all that high? Because the political parties in the US are just very, very different.

How would "dem media falling in line" look? What media?? The New York Times is not a dem establishment! Its incredibly liberal-left leaning, but its committed to neutrality as a core of its brand (and dissident snootiness as the other core of its brand). If it abandoned that its readers would *leave*, they have other options. And so on down the chain - a lot of the "dem voters" actively want balanced coverage and dissent. If I read a news source never criticizing Biden I would quit it, no way, this news isn't good.

And so on down the chain again, activist groups "driving out the voter?" What does that mean? I don't listen to activist groups, that is fucking cringe. Yeah, sure, they can drive some vote, but most of their affiliated members are loose, they don't listen that much to them. To the extent that they do not reflect the desires of their members, they will fall apart. Is Nancy Pelosi not supporting Biden? She does! Most dem politicians do. You just don't care, you can make up your own mind.

Dem voters are more of a looser coalition, they are on average better educated/smarter and more independently minded, and they live in places of increased social atomization & independence. They just cannot be mobilized the way republican voters can. Sometimes, you can really "animal spirits" it? Do the 2008 Obama, be a charismatic vessel for their hopes and dreams. But that is not a controllable phenomenon, and very hard for incumbents to pull off. Its not a switch Biden can flip.

So saying "Biden needs to do this to campaign better" on this topic is a bit of a chicken and egg thing, like yeah I too would like to fix the inherent inequality in the American voting public! Hopelessly unbudgeable, no, but the margins here are probably smaller than the wonk strategist types want to admit. You could never, in any world, have gotten the "Israel/Palestine left bloc" to "fall in line". That is a fundamental misunderstanding of the American body politic.

#Electoral politics blog times

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clonerightsagenda · 2 months ago

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So... The Silt Verses were good.

As I mentioned, I should have anticipated this. If a podcast gets decently popular and people gush over its quality and it doesn't even have a core ship for them to fixate on, it must actually be good. And it was. Luckily the obligatory horror podcast 'organs, lovingly described' bits only lasted the first few episodes, and then we moved into what the show was actually stellar at: character drama and social commentary.

I've lauded Greater Boston as one of the few allegedly anti-capitalist podcast that actually examines structures and society instead of just going haha evil company go brr, and The Silt Verses joins those ranks, looking at the issue from a macro (society) scale rather than micro (city). It was a very good - and unflinchingly, painfully honest - look at how capitalism is eating us alive, even citizens of the imperial core, how so many people feel helpless to resist, and how as much as we want to root for a band of scrappy rebels, most of the time they're helpless in the face of the international machinery, and their brief bursts of rebellion will get absorbed and redirected by the lumbering beast that's feeding on us all.

Both Greater Boston and TSV posit an alternative - Wonderland and the Grace. If society is irredeemably rotten, we must leave society. That's a great dream. And to their credit, both podcasts acknowledge that this takes effort. (Is it any surprise that both leftist podcasts with a more sophisticated awareness feature that most central of rebel technologies... the committee meeting.) However especially for situations like the Grace where there's not trade with an easily accessible outer world, it does make me wonder what place in this glorious future there is for disabled and chronically ill people who need the care and resources our industrialized world can provide. To TSV's credit, again, the tiny hope spot we get for The Grace is less 'we're going to build a glorious future for everyone' and more, we are taking one small step for resistance. We don't expect to get very far. But we're hoping the next people might get a bit further.

I saw TSV referred to as an aro podcast and they were right. Sister Carpenter, woman that she is, is canonically aro, but also there really aren't any major romances and all the key character relationships are platonic/familial/at least not traditionally romantic. (Nodding at that post about Hayward being married to Paige like nuns are married to Jesus. I guess that makes her widow of wounds story true in the end, huh? Watch out when you build a false mythology around yourself. It might come true.) It's the aro woman out of everyone who says 'however it started, it can end in love', but the podcast's version of love isn't a big triumphant kiss. It's laying your brother's corpse to rest. It's killing your enemy in a way that's kind and telling a lie to save people you've never met. It's dying alone but at peace because you get to watch the people you care about walk away to safety. (Side note: as much as I tried to take that bit with Hayward saying goodbye to Paige seriously, it kept reminding me of the end of The Good Place where Janet goes 'i hate to watch you walk through the door at the end of the universe, but I love to watch you go'.

Faulkner had a great character arc and I can't believe the show got me to root for Hayward of all people, but naturally I am mostly going to gush about the women. Val was a surprise third act hit for me. You know I love identity issues. She reminded me of Breq a little - they hollowed out a woman to fill her out with a weapon, and who is she now? Does it mean anything to get revenge for the corpse she's wearing? I will fix it, do you understand me? And she can't fix it, but she can in her dying moments make one tiny change to give one tiny group of people she's never met the shadow of a chance. Also the way her powers worked was interesting, terrifying, and conceptually appropriate.

I loved Paige too. We first see her as a relatively privileged person uncomfortable with her own complicity but not sure how to break out and then follow her as she tries to break out anyway. This podcast understands that resistance is hard! It's messy, it's exhausting, it changes you in ways you don't expect or want, and then you feel compelled to pretend you're fine even if you've burnt out because you led these people here, you're responsible for them, what else can you do? She should read Emergent Strategies, especially the section on charismatic leaders. Diversity win! This trans woman gets a nightmare magic god pregnancy.

Finally, Carpenter. If Val is Breq, Carpenter is Murderbot - snarky, exhausted, antisocial, perpetually annoyed, but going out of her way to try to save people anyway (and sometimes kill her way through a research station with an ax). Part of me wants her to make it to the Grace and then wherever Paige stops walking and lay both her and Hayward to rest. Part of me wants her to get her relief in the cairn maiden's arms because if anyone deserves some peace and relief away from the goddamn trawlerman, it's her. It's fitting that a servant of pliant water and patient death ends with a fate that's ambiguous. Maybe she's still trudging onward. Maybe she's buried in silt at the bottom of the river with her brother. Maybe she's something inbetween, the ghost Faulkner kept casting her as. Dead and not dead yet.

My one minor complaint was that I couldn't always follow the action by the soundscaping alone. The transcripts were very helpful for this so I frequently kept them open as I listened.

#kat listens to tsv

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damsels-n-dice · 4 months ago

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'til it kills us: the bogeyman

to celebrate the release of v0.3 of my game 'til it kills us, and mark the official beginning of the playtesting phase, i wanted to talk a little more about my process for making this game! we're starting with the playbooks, since they were my favourite part of development and show what makes 'til it kills us so special in my eyes.

i'm going to go over each part of the playbook, talking about the choices i made and the inspirations behind them. this'll include how they tie into other playbooks, and the other mechanics in the game. and, as you can imagine, it's quite long, so i'll be putting all this under the cut so you don't have to scroll past a massive post!

up first is the first playbook -- shadow mages who feed on self-hatred and internalised homophobia to hide themselves from the world:

the name

the first thing you notice with every playlist is its name, which is part of why i had so much fun choosing them! this one originated from me just going to wikipedia and looking at "creatures associated with shadow", but i fell in love with bogeyman as the name. not only are they shadow monsters, but bogeyman also refers to a threat that is both terrifying and often made up! it fits perfectly for a class of character who views themselves as more dangerous than they are.

the abilities

'til it kills us has "abilities" in place of something like d&d's core stats, with each playbook having some it shares with other playbooks and some that are completely unique. the bogeyman has shadow magic, obviously, but most of its other attributes also deal with concealment, secrecy or deception in some way. whispers and stealth for not being scene, deception for lying, and charm and arts to present a trustworthy front. fear is different, in that it represents the bogeyman becoming the monster that they perceive themselves to be, scaring others.

they also have two secondary magic types to choose from -- flora, the magic of self-doubt and distrust, or sound for loneliness. self-doubt and self-hatred go hand-in-hand (how can you trust someone you don't even like?) while loneliness here is meant to represent a few things. perhaps this character literally isolates themselves from the world, or perhaps they feel disconnected from others because of all the secrets they keep. and speaking of secrets...

the power

for the bogeyman, this is called secret-keeper, and allows them to hide in spaces of darkness. not only spooky, but another reference to how this playbook literally and metaphorically hides from the world! there's no other secret meanings to this power to be honest.

the presentations

these are all unique, and represent different ways the bogeyman uses their public persona as a front. as the game itself says, it's all about distraction. some might wear the flashy, wealthy glitz & glamour presentation, while others might attempt to fix their physical flaws through becoming total health nuts. others pretend to be a complete nobody, or completely picture perfect, to avoid close examination.

i wanted to show a few different false personalities that i have found to be more common in fiction or in real life, and (with the health nut) suggest the way this playbook might manifest as specific mental health issues or generally unhealthy behaviours. one presentation that'll definitely be added if i ever expand playbooks is one about toxic positivity, since that feels an easy fit for this playbook!

the motivations

pulled from a common list of motivations shared between all the playbooks, a bogeyman character can have a few different goals to be working towards. i won't spoil these specifically, but they're all about external validation, or centering other people's goals over their own. i wanted to make it clear just how much the bogeyman thinks they deserve, by making even their goals not really about them. this playbook mostly shares goals with others that lack motivation or self-respect, like the self-doubting creeping vines and apathetic greys.

the base feature

as a little optional flavour detail, this doesn't have too much lore behind it! the bogeyman loves to hide and is inherently distrusting, so i gave them somewhere in their home base to hide from the world.

the touchstone

external validation back again! but also, for someone who views themselves as unworthy of love, happiness or success, it felt like the obvious choice of anchor was someone who loved them unconditionally. i imagine a bogeyman's story could very easily centre on realising that their touchstone was right to trust in them all along.

the end

... and that, i think, is everything! the bogeyman also has character progression mechanics, same as every playbook, but those would require a lot of explanation. they're probably best saved for their own post, or for you to read the game yourself! you can check it out with the link included at the top of this post, and feel free to ask me any questions you have about the game or this playbook. i've loved getting to share in more depth the thought process behind making this playbook, and i can't wait to talk about the creeping vine next week -- it's one of the only playbooks i'm considering a rebrand for!

#my games #'til it kills us #ttrpg #indie ttrpg designer #indie ttrpg #tabletop roleplaying game #ttrpg designer #ttrpg design #ttrpg dev #rpg

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rosethornewrites · 1 month ago

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Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 28

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations, Self-Sacrifice, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, Bugs & Insects, Adoption, Ancestors, Ancestor Veneration, Golden Core Reveal, Top Lan Wangji | Lan Zhan/Bottom Wei Wuxian | Wei Ying, First Time Blow Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, sex-related injury, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Stays at the Burial Mounds, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī is a Wèi, Good Sibling Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming Niè Huáisāng, Disabled Character, somnophilia

Summaries: An illness, a new visitor, and complications arise.

Notes: See end of each chapter

AO3 link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25-6 | 27

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Wei Ying’s health takes a dip for several days, something Wei Qing attributes to a mundane illness, as several of the Wei also become ill, including A-Heng and A-Yun. However, it impacts him worse because of his lack of health and, Wei Qing thinks, his prolonged malnutrition at several points in his life, not simply his lack of a jindan.

“Rest and eat regular small meals. Popo will bring them. I’ll have A-Ning make you soup tonight,” Wei Qing promises, which tells Lan Wangji how concerned she is more than anything else she says.

Lan Wangji cares for Wei Ying, placing wet terrycloth rags on his forehead during fever and keeping him warm, hydrated, and fed, while the Wei care for the children and each other. During this period, Wei Qing halts bringing children home, letting them know they can come when the illness has run its course.

One morning after Wei Qing has finished his treatment and left for Yiling with Wei Ning and the Jiang cultivators for the day, in the midst of his fever, Wei Ying wakes with a grimace.

“Someone is at the wards,” he explains, then breaks out in a coughing fit.

He needs Lan Wangji’s help to get down to the entrance to the Burial Mounds. Happily, it turns out to be Luo Qingyang with more supplies from Qinghe, having been tracked down by Nie Huaisang and sent in their direction.

She is wearing sensible blue robes, nothing Jin-associated, and there is no risk of A-Yuan reacting to her. The letter she bears from him details finding her and enlisting her help, as well as detailing his search of brothels for Wen women who were sold by the Jin—he plans to have them brought to the Burial Mounds, so they can be adopted as Wei before being moved to Lotus Pier.

“You look like hell, Wei-gongzi,” she tells him honestly, and insists he go back to his sickbed while she helps around the settlement.

“Ah, Mianmian, so kind to her ailing Yuandao,” he responds weakly, then lets Lan Wangji guide him back to the cave.

Lan Wangji ultimately carries him on his back, back to his sickbed.

Mianmian takes up residence with little fuss, camping in the great hall until one of the Wei uncles lets her know there’s a bed available, freshly built, in the larger building where most of them sleep, preferring safety in numbers to privacy. The building is partitioned by a blanket between men and women, and Luo Qingyang insists it’s sufficient for her comfort.

The fever breaks the next day, and as Wei Ying was the last person ill, the following evening Wei Qing brings several new children and a very skittish woman with makeup-covered bruises on her face. It turns out she heard the poem and hoped the Yiling Laozu would protect her and her children from her abusive husband, running away for fear of death.

Wei Ying immediately holds the adoption ceremony, unwilling to turn away someone in need, and Wei Yating and her children, seven year old daughter Yi’er and two year old son A-Rong, become the newest members of their clan.

“I’m stealing wives and children now,” he murmurs coyly to Lan Wangji later. “Are you going to punish me, Hanguang-Jun?”

“Only from those who deserve to lose them,” he says, then presses him into the mattress.

“I hope you don’t still think I like Mianmian,” Wei Ying says lightly, teasing, and Lan Wangji puts his mouth to better use.

They adhere to every day where possible, now that Wei Ying is no longer ill.

A-Yuan is enthralled with his embarrassment of riches in new cousins and playmates, though his favorite seems to be A-Zhi. He’s engaged and happy, and Lan Wangji suspects in many ways the boy was lonely and didn’t know it, even now wouldn’t be able to put it into words or even understand it. He doesn’t fuss as much as he did before.

The children are healing many in the settlement, breathing life into the Burial Mounds in a way that makes the lingering resentment somehow almost seem content.

Luo Qingyang starts accompanying Wei Qing and Wei Ning to Yiling, supplementing the protection of the Jiang disciples and doing any shopping that needs to be done for the settlement. She brings sewing with her and works on child-sized robes for their new and future clan members. Once she even comes home with a child already dressed in the new robes she finished that very day.

This frees Wei Ying to stay in the Burial Mounds to work on his inventions and rest, and Lan Wangji to make sure he doesn’t blow up the cave and actually rests. Wei Qing is glad he’s not pushing himself to go to Yiling daily with them and is instead able to get more healing out of their musical acupuncture sessions in being able to let the healing take hold more fully.

“You’re still underweight and healing, Wei Wuxian,” she comments when he tries to apologize for not accompanying them. “Your brother sent disciples to attend that duty. You’re not alone. Learn to delegate.”

Thankfully, Wei Ying capitulates without too much guilt; it helps that Luo Qingyang has seamlessly added herself to the community, helping the aunties with laundry and clothing repair at times and helping to look after the children. Allowing her to accompany Wei Qing and Wei Ning to Yiling in his stead makes sense, given his health.

She eats meals with them, adding her voice to Popo’s insistence that he eat more, though she carefully lets Lan Wangji be the one to fill his bowl, and joins Wei Qing’s gentle teasing as well.

“Let your husband feed you, Wei Wuxian. You’re so light a stiff wind could carry you off.”

Wei Ying takes her teasing with as much grace as he takes Wei Qing’s, with an exaggerated pretense of wounded pride.

The children flock to her, as well, and she’s patient and kind with them.

The Burial Mounds, while dangerous in the warded areas, have become somewhat idyllic, a functioning settlement with plenty of food and shelter. The former Wen are healing and thriving, the children are happy and recovering from malnourishment, and Wei Ying has more good days than bad, hope illuminating him from within.

It’s inevitable that it will shatter, and it comes in the form of an attempt on Wei Qing. They return to the settlement early, Luo Qingyang bleeding from her non-dominant arm, and Wei Ning carrying a trussed up rogue cultivator who is ranting nonsense about Wei Ying and his “Wen army,” something Lan Wangji puts a stop to with the silencing spell to spare the children his words.

A couple of the children burst into tears at the sight of blood. One, a girl of about ten years named A-Hua who arrived only the day before, runs to her immediately, calling her Yang-jiejie and fussing over her.

“I’ll leave you to interrogate him for now,” Wei Qing tells Wei Ying. “Once she’s patched up, I’ll join you.”

“We don’t have room for prisoners,” Wei Ying says darkly, his gaze on Luo Qingyang’s arm.

The rogue cultivator stops struggling at that, seeming to finally realize his position is not favorable to his health. Though he may be biased, Lan Wangji suspects he is not the most intelligent of men.

“Please immobilize him with your needles,” Lan Wangji requests, and Wei Qing does as asked without fanfare.

The Wei clan has gathered by this point, murmuring and watching the rogue cultivator with no small amount of unhappiness, and it should be clear to him there is no army, assuming he is capable of rational thought.

On Wei Ying’s order, Wei Ning drags the man unceremoniously to the Demon-Slaughtering Cave—and Lan Wangji notices with no small amount of satisfaction that the name makes him pale further.

Wei Ying has WeI Ning dump the rogue cultivator on the stone that once served as his bed, and then crosses his arms for a moment and looks him over before starting to go through the man’s robes. The man cannot protest under the silencing spell, and he soon finds a piece of parchment promising a reward and a place with the Jin sect to anyone who “kills or captures Wen Qing, the Ghost General, or the Yiling Laozu, Wei Ying,” calling them enemies of the jianghu.

“So Mianmian was hurt protecting Qing-jie,” Wei Ying says tightly, “and now we have to figure out what to do with you.”

It’s almost pitiful to watch the man try and fail to break the silencing spell, cultivation too low to even manage that much, unable to move because of Wei Qing’s needles. Lan Wangji wonders if this rogue cultivator could even defeat as little as a walking corpse.

“Luo-guni—guniang d-didn’t have to unsheath her sword to cap—capture him,” Wei Ning says, clearly sharing Lan Wangji’s opinion of the man, doing his best to loom.

“He is fortunate that she stayed her sword after his capture,” he comments.

“Only so we could interrogate him,” Luo Qingyang breaks in from the entrance to the alcove, Wei Qing behind her. “And I didn’t think the Yiling magistrate would be happy if I gutted him in the street like he deserved.”

She’s clearly angry, but when Wei Ying comes to check her arm, she sets it aside and swats at him affectionately with the bloodstained sleeve of her robe, trying to reassure him. From his serious expression, it doesn’t work.

“It’s fine; I’ll be healed by tomorrow,” she insists.

“The more pressing matter is this idiot,” Wei Qing said, gesturing at the rogue cultivator. “The Jiang disciples are willing to take him to Lotus Pier so your brother can deal with him, but the real issue is the Chief Cultivator has declared open season on you, Wei Wuxian. On us.”

The parchment makes any harm done to Wei Ying or those he protects legal in the eyes of the jianghu, which is a dangerous directive that could undermine all the work they’ve done. It puts even their sworn brotherhood at odds with the orthodoxy, not just Wei Ying or the former Wen.

“Need to notify the others,” Lan Wangji advises. “They will help.”

Xiongzhang and Chifeng-Zun, as supporters of the Auspicious Eight, are now in precarious positions, though there is ample room for grievance—Wei Ying has done nothing against the jianghu since he freed the now-Weis. Not that the Jin haven’t been engaged in their vicious rumor-mongering.

They are, potentially, back to the lowest of public opinions with this move, all gains lost.

Wei Ying brushes by him, his gait too rushed to be a stalk, and out of the alcove. Lan Wangji knows he must take charge.

“Render him unconscious with needles. Send him with the Jiang disciples. Include the parchment. Have Jiang Wanyin notify Qinghe and Gusu. And Jin-shao-furen.”

As happens when he is upset, he turns to the cadence of short sentences, the brevity found in literature and the work of scholars. Wei Qing nods and gestures for him to follow his husband. He does, knowing she will implement the transfer of the prisoner. The sooner the rogue cultivator is out of the Burial Mounds, the better.

Even with him gone, much more will need to be discussed—whether Wei Qing can continue to go to Yiling daily, for instance. What to do about children coming to Yiling to join their family. How to protect the settlement.

He finds Wei Ying sitting in his workshop area, staring at his nearly-finished prototype of the questionably-named Compass of Evil, his body language defensive and evasive, folded in on himself, his breathing harsh. He’s clearly trying to calm down, but Lan Wangji can tell he is spiraling.

“Wei Ying. Sending him to Yunmeng.”

He gets no response, Wei Ying almost frozen, his eyes dull. Lan Wangji knows his spiral must be interrupted, and so he sits beside his husband and takes the compass, setting it down, taking Wei Ying’s hand in his own.

“Wei Ying,” he repeats, hoping to lead him from his stupor with his voice.

“I had hope,” Wei Ying murmurs, looking at him with a bleakness that doesn’t belong on his face. “That maybe we’d find a way. That there could be more than a single-plank path. That I could somehow not be doomed to die.”

He looks as dejected as he did the first day Lan Wangji came to the Burial Mounds, when he discovered the truth of his jindan, and his heart aches for his husband, for his hopelessness, and all the worse for that he cannot reassure him beyond any doubt. He has only faith in their allies to rely upon himself, and he can only imagine Wei Ying’s is shaky, his trust in people damaged by his experiences.

They intended for the yuefu to take hold more fully, to make it difficult for Jin Guangshan to move against him, but they didn’t anticipate this level of action already. Now, with their efforts undercut, there are children involved, more than A-Yuan, and so many people depending on the success of their plan. They can’t guarantee it, and none of them, save the original remnants, know this. Wei Ying gave them his name, and now they may be doomed by it.

“I told you I would doom you, too,” he whispers.

Lan Wangji gathers him into his arms, hoping he give him strength through the contact. Wei Ying leans against him listlessly, trembling with the force of his emotions. Hope snatched from him cruelly. He strokes his husband’s hair, massaging his scalp and guiding him to lean his head against his shoulder, kisses him chastely. He is pleased when Wei Ying’s gaze becomes more present.

“Never doom,” he says. “I will not abandon you. Nor will the others. We are sworn siblings.”

The swearing of siblinghood is often done before a battle, to tie the participants together as kin in what could be the end. Fitting, then, that the Auspicious Eight are now tied together as the battle comes to them.

And they have an extra advantage, one the Jin can’t possibly know about—they have two of the Venerated Triad at their backs as well. Three of the four major sects stand behind Wei Ying, and Jin Guangshan’s heir gone rogue, even.

Wei Ying burrows against him, seeking the comfort he’s offering, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“All is not lost, Wei Ying,” he assures him gently. “Together we will build a wide avenue.”

He swears he will do everything in his power to make that a reality.

—————

This fic is finally breaking 100k words! Also, honeymoon is over. Now come the complications.

Yating, 雅婷, pinyin yǎtíng, means elegant and graceful. Yi, 怡, pinyin yí, means joy. Rong, 融, pinyin róng, means harmonize. Hua, 华, pinyin huá, means splendid. There are a few more children, but they shall remain nameless. Assume there are, in addition to the eight named, four unnamed.

Thanks to adrian_kres and Yassy for the beta!

Glossary:

er = honorific meaning little or dear

jindan = golden core

laozu = patriarch

shao-furen = younger madam

xiongzhang = older brother

yuefu = a style of narrative poetry that basically borrows from Chinese folk song traditions—the Ballad of Mulan is an example

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