#puppet cas

[altr114209anon]

Have you ever had a strange deja vu experience yourself?

I̵̗̔’̸̥̉m̴̡̾ ̷̬̃s̴͎͋ȕ̸͉r̷͈̈́e̶͔̽ ̴̰͗I̷͆ͅ ̴͍̀h̵̫͝ã̵͚v̷͕͂e̷̯̐.̶̨̀

[altr114209anon]

V̷͎̖̠̲͎̰̯̳͐͛̅e̸̮̗̤̝͋̽͆̉́̂r̶̢̼̗̬͙̲͛͒̈͊̂̇̉y̵̘͙̙͍̑͒̆͐̅̿̕ ̸̛͖̗̹̪͙̳̦̥̱̪̦̱̩͍͛̄̌̿͂̓͠i̴̤͖͔͕̩̭͔̯̔̌̐̒̈̽̏͗̈́͂̐̈͒͑ͅm̴̧̡̼͚̟̣̩͍̻͍͔̭͈̂̃̂̄͗͘̕͜m̴̨̢̢̛͔͚͓̣͕͎̻͕͕͇͓͍̑́͐̐́̇̄̔̀̌̒̑̏̾͘͝ą̶̪͔̠͖̘̹̤̪̤͎͑͆̉̀͋͆̏͛̈́̆͌́̈́̓̈́́ḉ̴͙͆̌̏̐̒͋͛ų̸̮̻͑̋̅̿́͘͠͝l̸̛̠͕̲̖͕̠͑ą̷̡̧͔̥͈̖̼̬̤̰̥͚̫͎̳̔́̎͋̽̄̾͋̇̿̀́̀͜t��͇̮̱̫̪͇̙͊̇̓͊̋̎̔̇͐̇̏͂̉͘͝ĕ̷͍̦͑̊̋́̈,̴͍̝̬̮̇͑̔̂̉̓͛͆̎̀̍̎̃̑̏̆̚ ̸̧̰̳̙͙͕͌̔C̶̢̠͎̗͋̆̋̂̋̋͑a̷̧̧̩̟̟̹͓͖̥̥͓̻̥̾̀͛́́̆̅͌̾̓͘̕͠ͅs̵̡̛̩͔̜͉̠̼̼̼̫̳̳̻͉̤̍͗̓̐̎̐̿̐͋ş̵̢͓̦͕̩̭̩̤̯̺̎̉̒̅͑̉͊̚͘͝͠i̴̗̻̱͆̇̀͒͠d̴̢̡̠̜̞͙̩̯͖̜̜͓̲̓̀̌̏͒̈́̊͋̇͐̅̋̈̀̕̕͜y̷̨̢̩̤͇͓̠̙͈̦̟̳̫͊̍̿͠.̷̙͙̈́̽͒̀̓͝ ̵̘͔͖̙̻͒͗͛̿̎̋̈

G̷̺̃l̶͓̾i̸̫͐t̷̰͌c̶͕̊h̵͕̓e̵̢̒s̵̛̞ of the past haunt your future, IRIS.

Merry Christmas. @altr114209anon

[iwasateenagenosferatu]

🤡🐷. My Billy and Amanda sims are besties and its like playing monster high with used needles 💉

[nefarrilou]

Prompt: Marionette Master 🧵 A special member of buggy's carnival crew 🎪🎈 Carnival Crew [ x ]

Genetics Hair | Button Eyes | Stitches Clothes Top | Skirt | Gloves | Heels Accessories Shawl | Cage | Necklace | Nose Piercing | Clothes Overlay

✦ Simblreen 2023 [ x ]

C R E A T O R S

Genetics @daylifesims @suspiciouslypinklady

Clothes @pyxalicious @redearcat

Accessories @148dazed @stamsim

[shallowseeker]

Could you please do one of your play-by-plays with Dean and Cas fight in 11.03 The Bad Seed?

I have a partial that's embedded into the giant freeform Samwena post! (scroll a thousand years, and it's at the very bottom under "Last Bit")

I think... if you don't mind, I'll talk about the symbols in the set here, since the play-by-play is a bit embedded in the Samwena meta already? If that's not what you wanted, hit me again!

///

High Ground, low ground, and meeting in the middle

This scene is steeped in symbolism, illustrating the connection and contrast between Cas and Dean. The motifs surrounding them visually embody their respective struggles and personalities while framing their journey toward mutual understanding and, as Dean maybe views it, forgiveness and equilibrium.

///

Cas:

Creepy blue-eyed mask, brown-and-tan-bear, imposing larger-than-life soldier, tall red scaffolding.

Tall "Heavenly" scaffolding

Symbolism: The scaffolding represents Heaven and the heavy burden of Cas’s celestial duties. It symbolizes the high expectations placed upon him. The responsibilities always seem to loom over him. (We often see him pictured with skyscraper paintings for the same motif.)

Fragility: Scaffolding is both strong and precarious, reflecting Cas’s internal struggle—holding others up even as his own foundations are unstable.

Juxtaposition: Its towering nature contrasts with Dean’s low "valley" of stacked pallets, visually framing their dynamic as one of opposites that complement each other.

Creepy blue-eyed "Jimmy Novak" mask

Uncanny familiarity: The mask evokes Jimmy Novak, Cas’s vessel, but it's wearing a wicked expression. It’s a haunting reminder of Cas’s sacrifices and the cost of his mission, as well as the evil he's committed in the name of Heaven.

Puppet symbolism: Paired with the attack dog spell, it reflects the manipulation Cas has faced, being lured into false choices by others. Metatron’s schemes, Sam's pressure to save Dean his way, and now Rowena’s attack dog spell aimed to mold Cas into a tool for their ambitions.

Contrast: Where the mask is lifeless and haunting, Cas’s actions—falling towards Dean—are full of life and vulnerability, reclaiming his agency in their shared connection.

The brown-and-tan teddy

Overcoat resemblance: The coat evokes Cas’s steadfast loyalty, symbolizing his commitment to the "lower" human family over the lofty ideals of higher corporations or celestial orders. It represents his role as a protector and provider—a fatherly duty he has embraced with quiet resolve. Beneath its stoic, utilitarian exterior lies a softer, more vulnerable core, reminding us that his dedication to humanity is not just a role but a choice rooted in compassion and love.

Truck connection: The brown color also ties to Cas’s truck, a practical and grounded symbol of his efforts to navigate the human world. It suggests Cas's willingness to carry burdens alongside Dean.

Heart: The teddy bear symbolizes Cas’s emotions—a visual representation of his big heart. "Too much heart was always Castiel's problem." Interestingly, the bear also ties him to Mary, Dean, and Jack, who each have their own connections to this symbol. Together, they form a thread of resilience and affection, woven through their shared stories and struggles.

Toy soldier behind the fence

Imposing presence: The tall toy soldier is standing at attention, evoking discipline, duty, and resolve, embodying Cas’s role as Heaven’s soldier and champion.

Fence as separation: The soldier stands behind a barrier, symbolizing the divide between Cas’s celestial obligations and his desire for personal connection. It reflects his struggle to reconcile these two worlds, the tension between divine orders and his own choices. The fence is not only a literal barrier but also a metaphor for the isolation Cas feels as he struggles with the roles imposed on him by Heaven, feeling often like an attack dog behind a dog fence, especially in the face of manipulation like Rowena's attack dog spell.

Contradiction: The rigid soldier contrasts with Cas’s current vulnerability, highlighting how far he has come from being Heaven’s unquestioning weapon to someone who prioritizes free will and love.

///////////////////

Dean:

Panda bear, trash bag, supporting shipping pallet, "low" valley

Shipping pallets ("low valley")

Grounded symbolism: The stacked pallets behind Dean represent a low and grounded point, reflecting his pragmatic, earthy nature. While Cas’s scaffolding reaches upwards, Dean's structure is rooted to earth and his newly restored humanity. Both the scaffolding and the palettes exist to support others—a foundation and a framework, designed not for their own glory but to uplift and enable those around them. Whether holding the weight or providing the colors, they are essential yet humble, serving quietly so others can stand tall or shine brightly.

Contrast: The pallets create a "valley" beneath the towering scaffolding, visually framing their dynamic: Dean grounded on earth, always supporting his family at the expense of his own happiness, Cas's connection to Heaven, carrying out Heaven's missions at the expense of his own emotions.

False choices: Just as pallets are tools for transporting heavy loads, they symbolize Dean's emotional labor. The false choices imposed on him—becoming Cain’s heir to the Mark or succumbing to Crowley’s manipulation to get ahead in Hell—tried to burden him, framing his suffering as necessary to support others' ambitions. (And often taking away his agency through dishonesty, disinhibition, violation, and manipulation...)

Black-and-white panda

Symbol of duality: The panda’s stark black-and-white design mirrors Dean’s struggle with his inner contradictions—his tough exterior versus his deeply caring heart.

Dean's heart: Like Cas’s teddy bear, the panda hints at forcefully suppressed emotions. It represents Dean’s suppressed desires for simplicity and peace, often overshadowed by his heavy responsibilities to others.

Caretaker role: Pandas are famously “lazy” but also intensely nurturing. This parallels Dean’s role in the group: someone who masks his nurturing instincts behind a gruff exterior, often doing the “heavy emotional lifting” further embodied by the garbage bag nearby.

Garbage bag

Emotional labor: The garbage bag signifies the emotional burdens Dean has carried, often for the sake of others. He cleans up messes, both figuratively and literally, reflecting his tendency to internalize pain to protect others.

Self-worth: Dean’s bag highlights the emotional weight he shoulders for those around him, often suppressing his own feelings as he prioritizes the well-being of others. Dean’s bag represents internalized responsibility, highlighting his struggle with self-worth and his tendency to see himself as expendable. :(

///

Coercive roles: Overcome by Rowena’s attack dog spell, Cas’s violent actions against Dean reflect how external forces have repeatedly manipulated him—first by Metatron, then pressure by Sam, and now by Rowena. His motifs emphasize the imposed expectations of Heaven, his vulnerability, and his struggle to reclaim agency. Dean’s recent history with the Mark of Cain echoes Cas’s experience. Both were enticed by false choices that appeared necessary or inevitable—first with Crowley manipulating Dean to get him to take out Abaddon, then Dean being force-fit to Cain’s parallels—all engineered while damaging his free will. Each was a tool, trapped in narratives designed by others to fit their ambitions, often at the cost of autonomy. Dean in particular is framed as a support character. Dean is the one who defeats Abbadon, but Crowley takes the credit and at first relegates to Dean as a side accessory in his own Kingly narrative.

Agency (temporarily) restored: In trying to free Dean and restore both his free will and decision-making faculties, Cas lost his own, becoming overwhelmed by the attack dog spell while trying to follow Sam’s coercive plan. (Despite voicing his misgivings and pushing Sam to come clean, Cas found himself bound to the plan he couldn’t fully support... and he suffered the consequences for it.)

In this moment in 11x03, Dean rushes to save Cas, and Dean and Cas are temporarily broken free from their imposed molds, reclaiming their right to define themselves. The act of reaching for each other becomes a shared rejection of the constraints that others tried to impose on them.

Unfortunately for them, this victory is only temporary—an uneasy re-establishment of equilibrium. The cycle will inevitably repeat, but next time, it will be Lucifer who claims Cas's free will, as Cas sacrifices it once again in a desperate attempt to save Dean, whose free will is now beholden to/enslaved to Amara.

[imafish000]

Frederick and Andy future child doodle

Cas Cedric you can call him Cas

Some doodle when i got motivation at night

Toppat place

Post office

Antique shop

Mono now have a friend to play with

[ladybugtrait]

Jigsaw sim download link + CC list/folder

Hi,

She is my version of Jigsaw inspired girl

i hope you like it ;)

She has 1 outfit

CC folder included!!

All CC links /folder for FREE here!

DOWNLOAD (PATREON)🖤THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT!🖤

Hope you enjoy  <3

thank you to all the cc creators!

if you do not want your cc creation included please message me and i will remove it

@daylifesims , @magic-bot , @obscurus-sims , @poyopoyosim , @busra-tr , @goppolsme , @pralinesims , @remussirion , @sims3melancholic , @aharris00britney

[frogswithfrogs]

I was messing around in the sims and accidentally made Charlie Emily

I mean look at her, that’s Charlie

[crow-king-ash]

WELCOME HOME NUMBER THREE ON TRENDING LETS GOOO!!

[altr114209anon]

Happy to see you enjoyed it, Master. I had to add a few last minute touches on it today-I'm trying to get better at art.

M̷͍̗͝m̴̧̞͈̺̣̙͆̃̓͊͊̓̍́̈͌̾̊̚͠͝.̶̖̺̠̲̈̀͑̇̒͐́̽̄̀̄̿͋̕͜͠͠͠ ̶̧̻̘̪̻̳̝͙͍̲͚̍̈́̐́͑̔͌͊̒͑̚Y̴̧̢̧̡̧̫̫̺̮̦͚̻͚̌͒́͐͗͋̽̚͜ë̷̢̡̗̹̖̹͖͕̭͈͎̬͎̎̉̏̅͛̈́͋͌̈́̈́͝͠ͅş̶̡̻̼͇̱̥͍̪̥̱̦͈̮̀͜͝.̶͇̘͔̎͋̂̍͊͌̇͘͘͝ ̴̡̢͉̫͕̻͎̞̩͈͂̇́̐̆̿̈́̆̊̿̓̽͑̍̚̚̚͜Į̴̛̙̦͇̞̩̬̺̅͐̆̏̓͋̀̆̔̈͑̆̾͆̋'̷͓̮̺̙̼̋̊̅̓̃l̶̛̦̠̼̦̪̪̭̀̈́́̀͋̐̀͗̀̕͜͠l̴̰̲̗̳̻̰̜̼̰̤̗͋̑͛̈́̈͊̉͑͒̈̈̓̔ ̶̡̡̡̤̯̼̱̫͍̱̼͔͎̱͉̺͚͗̑͂w̴̢̤͚̓̑͊̆͒̇͌̃̾̂̾̊͆̕͘̚͠ả̷̦͙͍̭̟͕̺͈̻̂̔̿̒̇̈̿̋͠t̸̡̤͈̎̒͒͑̊̉̈́̈̊̍͆̈͘c̸͖͉͖̞̜̤̫͚̹̗̻̄̍̓̈́͒͜h̴̨̞̥̱̗̱̞͇̤̻̟̖͓͇̒̍̓͌̆̄́͛̓͂̎̏́̕͜͝ͅ ̸̼͙̽̌̓̈́͆́͝y̸̨̤̖͙͕̪̑̈́́̈́͊̇̉̀͜o̵̡͈͍̖͙̠̲̗̰̜̠̫͎̝̼̽̓̈́̌͗̉͗̚͜͠u̷̜͍̥͓̖̪̍̈́̒́̽̆̕͜͠r̵̠̹̩̬͙̫̞̄̒̊̒͛̊͛̂̿̿́̕͝ ̵̦̮̼̲͖͕̺̰̻͒̅̈́͛̎͋̚p̷̡͎͚̳̜̦̺̟͓̖̯̝̎͗͆̆̍̅̓͐͗̕r̸̨̢̧͉͓͚̳̯̬͎̦̄̏͒͐̀̓ͅo̷͓̺͓͋̏̏̒͊g̸̦͉̤̠̲̠̅̽̀̌͑͋̅̓̿͊̿͠͠r̵͉͇͇͆͊̉͋̽̃͐̈̈́͌̀͆̕͝͝͝è̵̡̹̗̙͚̗̜̦̘̎͒̓̐͘̚͜s̶̨̢̨̛͙̝̟̗͔̦̫̯̙̹̬̘̯̈́̽̿̾̋̊̅ṣ̵̺͍̥̦̥́̊̐͆͒̚.̴͙̘̤͇͔̳̗̘̫͕̺̅̈́̑͗͑͛͜

[iwasateenagenosferatu]

I want to play a game ...

[brokentoys]

nvm on the sims medieval thing :(

[malum-panem]

Implying that Saw Sex is something that someone would want

Customer: (not on record) DMV: BONE=SEX BUT SAWBONE IS SLANG FOR A DOCTOR OR SURGEON Verdict: ACCEPTED

[clickonmedotexe]

EJ?: I don't have all day- well, I do but I am starting to get bored of this

Frederick: *raises his eyebrows*

Frederick: Do you?

Frederick: Do you even have some kind of work to do?

Frederick: Is there still a purpose for you, isn't there?

EJ?: *scoffs*

EJ?: I do have a husband to return to

EJ?: Some employees to torment

EJ?: You know the drill

[viperbunnies]

"Nothing good ever comes out when I start hoping... but maybe just a little bit."

[Thank you to @.unfinished-projects-galore , @.ai-kan1 and @.stestylius-arts for the assets! Thank you as well to @jovieinramshackle for giving me the inspo to finally start on this, and to @crystallizsch , @angelwishess and @twstgo whose oc intros I took inspo for the layout 🫶]

An outlier from the school, due to his situation he was home-schooled for the majority of his first year. They have decided to accompany the Ramshackle prefect in their daily endeavors, serving as a guide and as a companion in the worn-down dorm.

BASIC INFO.

NAME: Oswald "Oz" Damarys BIRTHNAME: ???? ??????? ALIAS: Oz, Ozzie, Flashlight Fish (Floyd), Monsieur Porcelaine (Rook) Shortie-senpai (Yuudai) AGE: 17 BIRTHDATE: August 26 HEIGHT: 154 cm SPECIES: Half-human half beastmen GENDER: Demi-boy (Uses they/he and masc titles) ORIENTATION: Demisexual ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral MBTI: ISFP Voice claim: Here! (Stc)

LIKES: Stargazy pie, Seafood in general, Acrobatics, Crochet, Art in general, Reading, Fairytales, Music boxes, Classical Music, Card games, Mystery books, Sightseeing, DISLIKES:Wishmaking, Shooting stars, Crowded places, Performing, Being observed, People touching his birthmark, His "Luck", Basketballs

Unique Magic Your Next Line is! [ Flash Forward ] — "An indisputable future is what I see... Your Next Line is!" Oswald is able to take a peek into someone's future as long as they keep contact with his pearly white eye. It can be anything from 5 seconds from now or a day later - This visions manifests like rolls of film - Lately It appears his unique magic is going haywire, showing him visions without the need of eye contact. (They aren't pleasant visions)

TRAITS +  Easy-going; Flexible; Warm; Appreciative =  Tolerant; Perceptive; Witty; Impartial -  Overworker; Indecisive; Reliant; Worrisome

BRIEF OVERVIEW (STC)

Oz is a man of many tricks; he was raised to entertain the audience, which is why he is great at lightening up the mood of the room. The many tricks he can do reminds others of a puppy trained on how to play dead, or shake hands. Despite that, Oz actually struggles in actually expressing the his true feelings— used to being the brunt of many jokes growing up, he believes that he is simply a puppet used for the entertainment of others. He sees himself as a hollow doll with no real personality, only meant for display. He is confused about who his truly is, used to what others want to see and not what he wants to show. Slowly, he is realizing that he is merely human, and that he should live for his own sake. (Old info from my notes)

TIDBITS

Random Facts - Part-beastmen, specifically a rabbit beastmen but he lacks actual features aside for his tail that was cauterized off when he was younger - He doesn't look the part but he also likes getting into shenanigans, sometimes instigating Yuu and Adeuce with the pranks they do (No one really believes the trio when they say it was Oz's idea) - He's double jointed which is helpful with his Acrobatic hobby. - Love language is gift giving, and has a tendency to make crochets for other people. They're typically things that remind them of the other. - Has a lot of birthmarks on his face, but he started to cover them with foundation after Floyd made fun of it. - Has a terrible sense of direction so he gets lost easily, but he'd like to travel around the world someday. - He has terrible luck, and while he doesn't believe in superstitions he began to be wary about them. Doesn't want to get knocked out unconscious by a basketball whenever he passes by the gym. - Doesn't really mind being called Oswald, but he associated that to whenever he'd get scolded... so Oz is his more go to nickname.

TYPING QUIRK: - His friend got him into using Kaomojis, he likes the ones with bunny ears. - Likes sending voice messages to get his point across. - Usually types in sentence cases, (although when he isn't feeling well he types in lower cases) SPEAKING QUIRK: - Uses a lot of onomatopoeia to describe unknown things. - Speaks firmly when he feels strong emotions. - Sometimes bites his tongue when he rambles, or not focused. BEHAVIOURAL QUIRKS: - Nose has a tendency to twitch when he’s interested, or irritated. - He also unconsciously thumps his foot when he’s annoyed.

RELATIONSHIPS (WIP)

(Might put a brief overview on their more notable relationships in the future!) Note: - Main Oc x Canon is with Jamil (ignore that pink on silver and jade) - Divus is his foster parent

PNGS BELOW:

p∀ƎH ⅄W NI פNIH┴ƎWOS SI ƎɹƎH┴

[xvysarene]

𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝔸𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “Why do you always have to get under my skin?” Words: ~2k Genre: Suggestive Notice: Mentions of wound, profanities

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

Halting at the top of the stairs leading to your flat, your hands tightened around the pocket knife you had begun to carry.

Your eyes scanned the swaying tree nearby, certain that you had caught sight of that damn crow once again.

Since waking up on the white sheets of the hospital two weeks ago, after being rescued from a kidnapping by a certain someone who seemed to vanish into thin air (again), you often caught the mechanical black bird at the corner of your eye.

Locking the front door behind you with a click, the familiar surroundings of your home offered a brief moment of comfort.

Until your eyes landed upon the man sitting on your couch. He sat there as if he belonged.

“To what do I owe this displeasure?” You sighed, not even questioning how he got in, though your door was accessible only with your fingerprint.

A small smirk played at the corner of Sylus’s lips. “It’s good to see your feistiness returning.”

“If you saved me and paid my hospital bills in hopes to gather more information, you’ll be disappointed. I have none.”

One eyebrow, a shade darker than his hair, arched at the unexpected accusation. “Is it so hard to believe that was purely my good intention?”

“I became a puppet in whatever beef you had with my kidnappers. It would be stupid of me to assume that you’d do a goodwill for someone you claim not to care about,” you said bitterly, the memory of the event happening a couple of weeks ago flooding back vividly.

“The great man Sylus can’t take it when someone touches his whore. We were just about to have fun, weren't we, darling?”

Sylus remained unfazed by your capturer’s mockery. One of the lifeless goons was still dangling from his grip, and he casually chucked it to the ground as though it weighed nothing.

If you hadn’t been watching his eyes closely that day, you would have missed the quick flick of his gaze taking the blossoming bruise on your cheek, the half-ripped blouse, and the cold blade pressed against your neck, biting into the tender skin.

“I don’t care about her,” he drawled. 

And not once did his eyes lock with yours. It was stupid to feel hurt by his indifference. You wouldn’t be there in the first place if it weren't for this heartless prick.

Yet his words stung deeply.

The feeling of the wooden door flushed against your back grounded you to the present, trapping you in as he silently closed the distance.

Struggling to remain undaunted, you continued, “You completely ignored me after manipulating me to gain information on the hunters who had begun meddling in your business—”

“I ignored you so those hunters wouldn’t trace you back to me,” he cut you off.

It took a few seconds to let his words sink in. “What?” You gaped.

“Your kidnappers were among the hunters you mentioned to me. They were not UNICORNS’, they were rogue hunters whose leader I killed. That’s why they were after me.”

He ran a hand through his face. “When I realised how unknowingly deep you were in this mess, I had to divert their attention away from you.”

His towering height prompted you to tilt your head upward. The ghost of his fingertips tracing from your cheek, down to the side of your neck, caused you to flinch in surprise.

“What do you think those lowlifes would do if I show even an ounce of care towards you?”

While the bruises had subsided, the scar from where the blade had grazed you remained.

A muscle ticked in his jaw seeing the jagged line. “You weren’t supposed to be involved at all.”

“A bit too late now isn’t it?”

His eyes darkened, an ember of fury passing through them. “I ensured they suffered tenfold for what they did to you, and only then did I end them.”

The sound of breaking bones and desperate noises from that day rang in your head. It was a blessing in disguise that your eyes screwed instinctively as the captor callously tossed you aside.

You didn’t even want to witness the horrors Sylus had done to them.

Your silence drew his eyes down to the pocket knife still clutched in your hand, now looking so harmless. Wouldn’t it be nice to be born with the Evol gene? Maybe then you could’ve protected yourself better.

“Are you still planning to stab me with that?”

“Depends.” Your chin lifted defiantly.

A glint of amusement danced in his eyes as he chuckled lowly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

You hated your body for reacting that way. It was infuriating how effortlessly he could affect you.

“Why are you here then? What more do you want from me?”

“You,” he said without a heartbeat’s pause, “I want you.”

It felt as if the air had been stolen from your lungs, leaving you breathless.

Sylus was a big, red warning sign. Much like his eyes. And yet, when he locked you in that magnetic gaze, your brain short-circuited.

He’s got you spellbound ever since you first met him at The Nest, acting like a gentleman by saving you from the overly handsy drunk patrons, before worming his way into your life with calculated charm.

Every colleague had warned you about him, yet you still chose to dance with danger.

“You think you can just walk in here and take whatever you want?”

A slow smile curved the corner of his lips, leaving you torn between wanting to slap it off his face or kiss it away.

Maybe both.

“I can try, right?” His confidence was maddening, and yet, it drew you in like a moth to a flame.

Your mind screamed to push him away, to run, but your body betrayed you, entranced by the undeniable tension that always seemed to exude whenever the two of you were near each other.

“Why do you always have to get under my skin?” you were too breathless, too vulnerable for your liking.

He dipped his head closer, his voice a low, intimate murmur by your ear, “Figuratively or literally?”

The feel of his rough, masculine fingers at the nape of your neck sent your heart racing. 

Haunting reminders of them tightening around your throat, the pressure mirroring his relentless thrusts, would forever be burned in the back of your mind.

Oh, and how could you forget how those fingers always managed to find your sensitive spots, teasing and exploring with an expertise that was both exhilarating and overwhelming?

His hands knew your body as if it were an instrument crafted just for him, every caress producing a harmony of sensations that only he knew how to play.

As he repeated his question, daring you to answer him, you punched his firm chest. “Don't fucking play games with me, Sylus.”

“Who said I'm playing?” His other hand enclosed over your pocket knife, tossing it somewhere behind him. The clattering sound should’ve cleared your head, yet it didn’t. “I know what I’ve always wanted. You don’t know how hard it is to ignore you and not send every guy who eye-fucks you six feet under whenever I visit the bar.”

Underneath the surface of physical attraction and fleeting desires, there was always a complex connection between the two of you that couldn't be easily dismissed.

Those eyes, a deep, passionate red, always glowed with intensity when they fixed upon you, as if nothing else in this world could divert his attention.

As if he wanted to make you his, to protect and treasure with every fibre of his being.

“You're impossible,” you whispered, though it lacked conviction.

With a slight lift of one eyebrow, he asked you a question. So, what's it going to be?

He was a confident man. Direct. In no rush.

You should've felt ashamed when your hands moved of their own accord and tugged at his lapel roughly, but you couldn't care less when your lips met his with equal passion.

The familiar, distinct notes of leather melding with cedarwood enfolded you. As his big palms rested on your bottom, lifting you to ease the strain on your neck, your legs naturally encircled his taut form.

Feeling his thick arousal pressing firmly against your clothed, damp core was an exquisite torture, ripping a deep moan out of you.

Sylus devoured the sound like a starved man finally savouring a long-awaited meal.

His long legs carried you swiftly to the bedroom in less than ten strides, lowering your body onto the mattress with a surprising gentleness, though his lips revealed a contrasting intensity.

Exploring. Consuming. Desiring.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he drew a map of sloppy kisses along the curve of your neck.

Until he stopped short at the spot where you knew the slightly raised scar from the blade was.

“I am sorry, I should’ve kept you close.”

The crack of emotion seeping from his voice startled you, forcing your eyes open to meet his crimson orbs already focusing on you.

A vulnerability he hardly revealed to the world softened the stern lines of his face. Swirls of yearning and fury were a turbulent mix in his pupils.

“I won’t let anyone else hurt you again.”

How could this man be so full of contradictions?

He was rough and tender.

Brutal and compassionate.

“Just because I don’t possess any Evol, doesn’t mean that I’m fragile.” 

The caress of your palm cradling his cheek prompted his eyes to drift shut. His lips grazed your wrist, where the skin, once raw and marred red from being bound, had now healed up nicely.

“But if you get hurt because of me, then I will never be able to forgive myself, amore.”

If hearing the familiar pet name tumbling out of his lips didn’t turn you into mush, the sensation of his big palm sliding beneath your shirt certainly would.

His warm and protective touch on your bare flesh sent tingles racing along your skin.

“Come stay with me.”

You weren’t even able to let out a gasp of surprise as Sylus discarded your clothes at such an admirable speed.

“For the night? In the N109 zone?” your voice was embarrassingly high-pitched as his silver hair tickled your sensitive skin. Each kiss trailed lower down your chest like gentle raindrops.

“Do you really think I would let you go after tonight?” A small bite was the punishment you received for asking such a ridiculous question. “Everyone knows how important you are to me by now, and I'm not taking any chances with your security. Everywhere, anywhere—I don’t care, as long as I can keep you safe.”

One of his strong thighs settled in between your legs. The fabric of his pants felt so amazing against your throbbing centre, heightening your desire with each agonisingly slow friction.

It was not fair how he had you under his mercy while asking such a serious question. Perhaps this was his cunning way of ensuring you would say yes.

And you were a lost cause, head bobbing up and down the slightest as you surrendered to his control.

“I need your words, amore.”

His hair was dishevelled, sharp features were accentuated by the city lights as he leaned closer to your face again. Ever so subtle, he pressed his thigh more unforgivingly into your core, driving you crazy.

Red eyes twinkled with mischief as Sylus enjoyed watching you squirm underneath him, delighting in the unfiltered lust flushing your face with each teasing contact.

Ever the insufferable tease, he slid his hand underneath your pants, fingers millimetres away from where you needed him the most.

“Yes, I’ll stay with you! God, you’re the worst,” you almost screamed in frustration as your hips bucked. Gasping, you felt those wicked fingers finally descend lower. “Now, talk less and do more.”

A deep hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as you felt his grin on your lips, complying with your request. 

“I am no God, but I’ll make sure you chant my name.”

He would damn well make sure that you two would be christening every corner of his living space—now yours—starting from the sleek granite kitchen countertops, to the plush rug in the living room, all the way to the balcony beneath the moonlit sky.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST