Hii! I Was Wondering On How You Make The Words Gradient? If You Could Answer It'd Be Appreciated ♡.

what is happening

by the way ignore my character I just love shoko Komi so much she's adorable

You know what’s really disturbing to me? The culture that seems to have sprung up around fanfiction. Writers spend weeks and months working on a story – I think my record is six months on A Place For Us To Dream. And so many times readers expect to just be given a chapter even if they don’t give anything to the writer in return.

I’m going to date myself a bit here, but I’ve been reading/writing fanfiction for ten years. And when I first started it was a wonderful community. There was an unspoken rule – if you read/enjoyed it, you review it. You take thirty seconds to tell an author who probably spent anywhere from three days to a week writing that chapter you just enjoyed to tell them you enjoyed it. Even if it was as simple as “Great chapter, can’t wait to see what happens next!”

Writers spend so much time on stories, and then they post it because they have this thing that they’ve invested so many hours into and they want to share it with the world. They know how they feel about the story, and they want to know how other people feel, what other people think.

And when you read it and don’t review, you know what message you’re sending that author? That they’re not worth your time, or you didn’t enjoy their story. So why should they keep posting it? Yeah they might continue working on it in their own time, for their own enjoyment, but you might never see another chapter again because you couldn’t be bothered to take thirty seconds out of your day to tell them how you feel.

I’ve written stories in eight different fandoms, ranging from very small to very big (I’ll openly admit I wrote Twilight fanfiction once. Once. It was an Alice/Jasper story and haters can hate all they want but I’m still proud of it). I took a break for a few years because I fell out of fandoms during college, and when I came back apparently it’d become the norm to just greedily consume writing without telling writers how you feel. And that is one of the saddest things in the world to me because fanfiction is where I really started getting serious about writing. It’s how I’ve honed by skills and become the writer I am today. And that was largely in part because of all the support I got when I was an itty-bitty thirteen-year-old writing crappy W.I.T.C.H. fanfiction.

Everyone keeps saying “reviews don’t matter, you should just write for yourself.” Well, you’re wrong. Reviews make or break fanfiction. Reviews tell writers whether it’s worth their time to continue posting that story online or whether they should keep it on their hard drives and never share it with the world.

Kill the attitude that reviews don’t matter. Start telling writers you like their stories. And if you don’t, if you all just continue to be invisible readers? Don’t be surprised when that writer disappears.

PLANNING A SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR GOJO FINAL

Part 1

SATAN simply loves it when you embrace him, your hands are smaller than his and the warmth he feels as you hug him. He loves it even more when you are in bed, while he reads a books and you are just there, hands wrapped around his torso.

It makes him feel giddy, fuzzy-

It makes him feel things he never experienced.

Even more that he loves is your smile. The way you give him a smile, a laugh that his heart cherishes.

And when you are not your usual self, whenever you feel broken, he's there to collect your pieces, he's there to soothe you. To tell you, that it will be okay. That everything will turn out fine.

If he could he would stay with you for all eternity.

And no matter how he wants to assure himself that he would one day have to watch your demise unfold. That he will move on, that he will be himself -

But he knows there is no one like you, no one would love him the way you do. And that makes his heart ache because clearly not everything will stay the same.

He will not be the same.

forever gorgeous. feat. gojo satoru

synopsis: comparison is the thief of joy — in which you feel insecure, but luckily you have the prettiest man to ever exist to comfort you

content: gojo x reader, angst w comfort, face dysmorphia, insecurities, fem!reader, comparisons to others, crying, mental health issues, and self-hatred

a/n: this may be self indulgent...anyways, i just wanted to let you all know that you're fucking beautiful in your own special way. everyone is different and that's what makes us gorgeous. you don't need to compare yourself to other people because you were born with features made just for you. i know it's useless when someone tells you "you're pretty so you don't have to be insecure" because that changes nothing, but it is possible to learn to love yourself for who you are. i love you ❤︎

you stand in front of the mirror, your gaze locked on the reflection staring back at you. every line, every shadow, every imperfection catches your eye. you lean in closer, inspecting the fine lines etched across your forehead, the dark circles haunting your eyes, the uneven texture of your skin. each flaw, no matter how small, feels magnified under the harsh light, glaring at you, accusing you.

your fingers trace the contours of your face, searching for something familiar, something you can still recognize as yourself. but the more you look, the more alien this face becomes. you notice the dullness in your eyes, the way your lips seem to have lost their fullness, how your once-bright complexion has faded to a pallor. you pick at the imperfections, the scars, the blemishes, as if by doing so you could somehow erase them, erase the person you've become, or the person you've always been.

but it never works. the more you scrutinize, the more you find to despise. it's as if the mirror is a portal to another world, a world where you’re distorted and twisted, where every flaw is exaggerated, every imperfection a glaring fault. you feel trapped, caught in an endless loop of self-criticism and loathing. the person in the mirror is a stranger, someone you can’t relate to, someone you’re ashamed of.

you step back, but the image remains imprinted in your mind, haunting you. you don’t recognize yourself anymore, and the thought terrifies you. the person you used to be is slipping away, and all that’s left is this reflection, this version of you that you can’t stand to look at.

it's tearing you apart, this obsession, this constant need to pick yourself apart piece by piece. but you can’t stop. you don’t know how to stop. so you stand there, day after day, searching for the person you once were, and hating the person you’ve become.

you feel the tears welling up, a slow, inevitable tide that you can’t hold back. standing there, staring into the mirror, you’re overwhelmed by a crushing sense of despair. it's not just the reflection that you can’t stand—it’s the thought of anyone else seeing it, of anyone else having to look at you the way you’re forced to now. the idea of their eyes tracing the same flaws that you obsess over, the same imperfections that you magnify in your mind, is too much to bear.

you breath catches in your throat as the first tear slips down your cheek, and then another. the tears blur your vision, but it doesn’t soften the image in the mirror. if anything, the distortion makes it worse, turning your reflection into something even more grotesque in your mind. you press your hands against your face, trying to hide from the world, but mostly from yourself.

it breaks your heart, this self-loathing. because deep down, you know it’s not supposed to be this way. you know it's not something you can change, it's just something you have to learn to live with and that makes it even more unbearable. the thought that this pain is, in some twisted way, your own doing, or at least your own responsibility to fix, weighs on you like a leaden cloak. you know you could learn to love yourself if you wanted to, but the sheer weight of that knowledge only adds to the hurt, making the tears come faster, harder. you don't want to love yourself, not this version of you at least. you don't think you deserve it.

you sob quietly, the sound almost foreign to your ears, like it’s coming from someone else. but it’s you—it’s all you. you're trapped in this body, this mind, this reflection that you can’t escape. and the pain isn’t just in how you look; it’s in how you feel about it, in the heartbreak of knowing that you’ve become someone you don’t want to be, someone you’re afraid to let others see.

the tears keep coming, and you let them, because at least in crying, you can release some of the pressure building inside. but it doesn’t bring relief, only more heartache, as you stand there, unable to face yourself, unable to bear the thought that anyone else might have to as well.

you don’t hear him at first. you're too lost in your thoughts, too caught up in the tears that won’t stop falling. but then, suddenly, you sense him—gojo, walking into the room with that easy smile he always wears, the one that usually makes your heart skip a beat. he's about to say something, maybe a joke or a playful comment, but then he sees you.

his smile falters, replaced by a look of concern so deep it cuts through your haze of self-loathing. “hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft and full of worry as he moves closer to you. the sight of him, the sound of his voice, only makes the tears come faster, and you turn away, desperate to hide from him, to keep him from seeing you like this.

but he’s already seen. “what happened, baby?” he asks again, his tone more urgent as he reaches for you. the touch of his hand on your shoulder sends a fresh wave of pain through you, not because it hurts, but because you know he’s looking at you—really looking at you. the thought of him seeing you the way you see yourself, seeing all the flaws you can’t stand, makes your chest tighten with panic.

“please, don’t,” you manage to choke out, trying to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you go. he's persistent, as he always is, and his arms wrap around you, holding you close despite your attempts to escape. “hey, it’s okay. whatever it is, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice steady, soothing, but all it does is make the tears fall harder because nothing about this is okay.

you can’t stand it, the idea of him having to see you like this, broken and falling apart over something you know you shouldn’t let consume you. you struggle weakly against him, but he holds you tighter, refusing to let you go. “i'm here,” he says softly, his voice right next to your ear now, and despite everything, despite how much you hate yourself in this moment, a part of you can’t help but cling to him, needing his strength.

he doesn’t ask again what’s wrong; he just holds you, letting you cry into his chest, his hand gently stroking your hair. you're overwhelmed by the kindness in his touch, the way he’s there for you even when you feel so unworthy of it. It’s almost too much to bear, this tenderness from him, but you let yourself sink into it because there’s nowhere else to go. his arms are a refuge from the storm inside you, and even though you don’t understand how he can still want to be with you after seeing you like this, you’re grateful for his warmth, for the way he loves you even when you can’t love yourself.

a few minutes pass, the silence between you filled only with the sound of your quiet sobs and the steady rhythm of his breathing. gojo doesn’t say anything; he just holds you close, his arms strong and reassuring around you. you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and calm, a contrast to the turmoil inside you. the warmth of his embrace slowly starts to ease the tension in your body, his presence a balm against the rawness of your emotions.

you can sense his patience, the way he’s waiting for you, not pushing, just being there. it's that patience, that unwavering support, that finally makes you feel safe enough to speak. you pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and you see the concern in his eyes, the way he’s completely focused on you, ready to listen.

“i just… i don’t know how to explain it,” you begin, your voice shaky, but he nods encouragingly, his thumb gently brushing away the tears still lingering on your cheek. “i hate myself. every day i wake up and i hate myself. i hate the way i look so much that it hurts...it's like i don't even know who i'm looking at and it doesn't help that i have to see it everyday. it's not something i can run from, it's apart of me forever and i hate it.”

he doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to correct you or tell you that you’re wrong. he just listens, his blue eyes never leaving yours, his expression so attentive, so full of empathy, that it almost hurts. you take a shaky breath and continue, the words spilling out now, all the fears and insecurities you’ve been bottling up inside. “and i've tried so hard to love myself and find beauty in what i see, but i can't. nothing about me is pretty. i sit in the mirror for hours trying to convince myself that any part of me is worth looking at. there has to be something about me that isn't ugly, but there isn't. and i hate going out because if i see it, then everyone does. i have to go out surrounded by people who are normal, people who are naturally beautiful and i have to spend hours putting on makeup just to feel presentable...even that doesn't work anymore.”

as you talk, his arms tighten around you just a little, as if he’s trying to shield you from the pain of your own words. he doesn’t say anything yet, just lets you keep talking, letting out everything you’ve been holding back. there's a comfort in being able to voice these thoughts, to share them with someone who cares, someone who won’t judge you for them.

“i just don't understand why me,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “why do i have to look like this, why are you with me, just why me. and i'm scared...that maybe i'll always feel like this and that maybe you'll see me the way i see myself.”

for a moment, there’s only silence, the weight of your confession hanging in the air between you. but then he tilts your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. his expression is soft, tender, but there’s also a seriousness in his eyes, a depth of emotion that takes you by surprise.

“first, thank you for sharing all of this with me. i know it wasn't easy,” he says quietly, his voice steady but full of feeling. “second, i see you, all of you, and i love every bit. it breaks my heart hearing you talk about yourself like this, my love, because you've always been so damn beautiful to me. i'm sure even if i saw you the way you see yourself, i'd love you the same, if not more. i just wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

he pauses, letting his words sink in, and then he adds, “i know you don't believe me and that's something we'll work on together because i will forever be by your side. but i do want you to know that you are forever gorgeous to me. and not just to me, to anyone with working eyes and everyone who loves you. beauty is never just what you see in the looks of someone, but in what you see when you look deeper beyond the surface. from the inside, out, you are beautiful. every piece of you, i love endlessly and nothing will ever change that. ”

you can see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he’s willing to stand by you, no matter what. it's a comfort you didn’t know you needed, but now that it’s there, it feels like a lifeline, something to hold onto in the darkness. you feel a small sense of relief, a lightness in your chest that wasn’t there before, and you realize that, for the first time in a long while, you’re not carrying this burden alone.

Pls I need to see reader reuniting with her baby at the hospital and reassuring him that she’s fine and not going anywhere, as a bandaid for the angst you gave us pwetty plsss 🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏

“mamaaaa!”

your son immediately runs towards you the moment he enters the your hospital room, and you crack your eyes open at the sound of his voice.

but hot in his heels is satoru, who immediately catches him with both hands, sternly reprimanding him. “no, you can’t hug mama yet, she’s still in pain.”

“mm…” your son looks down and nibbles his lip, but nods regardless. satoru ruffles his head and holds his hand as they approach you.

“how are you feeling?” your husband asks with a smile as he sits your baby on his knee.

“i’m good, just sleepy…” you press the button of the bed to help you to sit, and your attention is immediately diverted to the pair of curious eyes staring at you. “have you and papa eaten yet?”

your son nods compliantly. “yes, we ate mochis.”

“huh? just mochi?”

“and ice pops too!”

“satoru…” you give him the stink eye and he scratches his head sheepishly. “i’m telling you, you can’t feed him only sweets.”

“yeah, yeah—”

“mama, when will you go home?” your boy suddenly cuts in with hopeful expression. “if you go home, i’ll stop eating mochi.”

both you and satoru go quiet at once. you know your son loves mochi as much as his papa does, so the fact that he says it tears your heart somehow.

“baby, come here.” you signal at satoru to give him to you, and reluctantly he does.

the moment your baby is settled beside you, he carefully leans into you as though not to hurt your injury.

“oh you…” your heart melt at how gentle he is. you and satoru have certainly raised him well. “i’m going to be back soon, okay?” you pat him on the head, before kissing his cheek. “i’m getting better day by day. auntie shoko said i can be home by next week.”

he nods again albeit with a slightly disappointed expression and you poke his cheek. “and hey, aren’t you having fun spending time with big brother megumi and uncle ichiji?”

“yes but… sometimes uncle ichiji prefers leaving first.”

satoru turns to his son with a shrug. “well, he’s just like that. don’t pester him too much. he likes blending with walls actually.”

your baby glances at him with disinterest. “says you. mama, actually, papa terrorizes uncle ichiji on daily basis.”

“hey!”

“wha?”

“yes. i see it myself. that’s why he always excuses himself early.”

you shoot satoru a glare. “keep doing that and i’ll cook you when i’m home,” you threaten and he immediately turns to you in surprise.

“wha?! why do you always come and defend ichiji’s honor like that?!”

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 (𝐔𝐍)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋

- sylus x reader

master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry

note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg tagging @sanriosatoru per request <3

Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.

The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.

What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.

“I don't mind to spend the whole night with you,” he’d whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.

And you’d respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.

“Ahh... ah!” Before you knew it, his cock—thick and long in size—slid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.

“Keep me going with your voice, kitten.” Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. “Yeah, just like that...”

Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way too—

“Is this... all you've got?” you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. “Surely... y-you can do better...”

“Ha,” he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. “Careful what you wish for... sweetie.”

And then your vision literally tilted upside down—Sylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.

“—!” Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.

He broke into a satisfied smirk. “Let it out,” he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. “You never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, don’t start now.”

“You b-bastard...” you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.

He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.

It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.

You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.

“Tired?” Sylus’ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. “I really like this look on your face right now”

You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. “I bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.”

“How presumptuous.” He sent you a sour scowl. “I have a high standard— you should consider yourself lucky.”

Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. “I’m cold. Clean me up already.”

“Now, now… what a spoiled little thing you are…” Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.

Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.

No strings attached.

This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?

At least, you thought so.

. . .

“Damn, you’re going to make me sore…” you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. “Ahh...”

Sylus’ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. “Well, I’m just that good, and you did ask for it.”

“Are you going out?” you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. “It’s midnight.”

“Luke and Kieran said she has arrived.” Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. “After all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.”

The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.

A part of you didn’t really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. “Will you bring her here too?”

“I’ll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,” he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.

Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himself—he isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evol—the Speech Manipulation—which is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.

This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. “Well, consider me jealous then. Seems like I’ll have a rival soon.”

Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.

“Ha.” Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. “Is there even anyone brave enough to go against you?”

You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “We shall see about that.”

Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.

You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.

But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himself— having her shoot him right in the heart.

“She is funny,” he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. “She was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.”

“Is that your only finding—” you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. “—after shooting yourself just to mess with her?”

Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.

“Is that really necessary?” you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. “Or are you just trying to get her attention?”

Sylus’ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.

“What’s got you so worked up about this, hmm?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. “Last I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each other’s personal affairs.”

Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.

But the fact remains that you two are nothing more than—

“Fine.” You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldn’t say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.

Until you felt a hard tug on your arm—

“And where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?”

Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wall—your left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.

His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.

“Have I ever told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?” Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. “If I didn’t know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, I’d want you to look at me like this every day.”

It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“What’s wrong? We’ve been closer than this,” Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. “What’s making you so nervous?”

If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. “I hate you.”

“How lovely.”

“You’re infuriating,” you spat, devoid of any amusement.

He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughly—

“Then perhaps...” he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: “You can help to fix me, sweetie.”

His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.

As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.

. . .

"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.

"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."

"I can't sleep."

"Poor you. I can though."

You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."

"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"

Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.

"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.

"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.

"Why are you hugging me? We’re not usually this touchy after sex."

"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."

"You're so damn insufferable..."

Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...

You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?

“Caw, caw, caw!”

“Mephisto, shush.”

Sylus’ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldn’t be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.

You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.

“Luke, Kieran,” you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. “Where did Sylus go?”

Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, “Boss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!”

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were nonetheless. “And he still hasn’t come back?”

“Ah, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. He’s probably back or already on his way?” Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.

It irritated you, it gnawed at you—how Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbook—

Just as he had done when he pursued you.

Calling her “kitten”, “sweetie”... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.

Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.

You were petty, and you knew it.

“Mephisto,” you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. “Go find and bother her, okay? Don’t let her out of your sight,” you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.

Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.

You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk into—

Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl… nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.

“Y/N?” Sylus looked at you over the girl’s shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.

In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. “I-it’s not what it looks like! I swear! Sylus— I was just trying to find his brooch and—!”

In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanations—none of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.

You weren’t sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.

“Sorry for intruding,” you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.

It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.

Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldn’t even find the tears to cry—as you weren't allowed to do so.

Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.

You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.

And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.

"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.

"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.

"Or boss lady?" Kieran supplied.

Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, you’d spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.

They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.

"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.

He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.

But why didn't you come to him?

And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?

However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.

At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.

You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didn’t know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.

And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.

...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.

. . .

"Mm-hm, really?"

"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."

You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.

"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.

"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your name—"

You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"

"Very much so!"

This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:

"Halt."

He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.

"W-what happened—!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.

"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."

With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.

You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.

"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."

The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.

"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."

Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"

"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"

Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.

"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairs—"

You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "You—!"

He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.

This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.

At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.

"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."

And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?

You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings, did he?

"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprint—

Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "You—"

"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."

"Listen to me!"

He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was faster—

"Move."

His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.

. . .

The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.

You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.

It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.

You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?

You got your answer sooner than you thought.

White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.

No, the feelings didn’t go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.

And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.

"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"

"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"

"So much blood—! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"

"Boss! We found her!"

"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."

"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."

You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.

Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.

"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."

What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?

Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, showered you with gifts even, and at one point—

"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.

You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"

"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."

Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.

And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.

When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.

At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.

"Awake?"

Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.

He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.

However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.

"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.

The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"

His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"

"There’s no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You must’ve done something."

“Ha, when it comes to these things, you’re sharp,” Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.

"Answer me."

"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."

"You..." you were rendered speechless. "You—what? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"

Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.

"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."

"H-how... why..."

"That was your only chance, or you would’ve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."

The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."

Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.

He gave it up to save you.

Still, it confused you.

“If I died...” you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Then it just means I’m no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.”

You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. “So why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?”

There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?

Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.

But no, it wasn’t anything sensual like he usually did. His hand—large and warm—was a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"

You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.

"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."

Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.

You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadn’t dared to hope for more.

"The naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me," he chuckled then, flashing you that prideful smile. "So now, she has to be held responsible for her actions. You can't just go rush into danger again, you hear?"

Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and giggled. "You shameless bastard..."

And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.

Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talks— just you being alive and well in his embrace.

"How long have I been out?"

"Three weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday."

"Three weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?"

Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. "It's been horrid."

Neither of you would be caught dead saying “I love you”, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.

if you're ok with an incessant amount of boops reblog this so I can get those other 2 badges <3

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:45 P.M 」

18+ suggestive content! cw. cockwarming. based on this ask and thirst idea in my inbox💁🏻‍♀️ psa: reader makes the first move 🤞🏻

a part of gojo's love entries

“hah—hah, sweets, wait—!”

now, now… what a rare sight. you don’t usually climb on top of your husband and attack him with senseless kisses on your own accord— usually it’s the opposite.

but ever since satoru got you pregnant, and now that you had reached the end of your first trimester, your hormones were at most turbulent, and you could get turned on over random things he did.

“hah—” he groaned, throwing his head back when your sinful lips trailed kisses on his neck, and your hand played with his length, squeezing him and making him harder by each second.

both of you were still fully clothed and he wasn’t even out of his pants yet— you just unzipped and took the prize.

for god’s sake, he thought. you looked so fine taking charge of him and making him writhe like this.

“satoru—” your voice was feathery as you breathed in his neck, before sucking it hard and making him grunt. you let go of his length, pressed your body closer, and then started grinding against him.

in your defense, your husband looked delectable these days. you didn’t know why, but seeing him all happy made you want to keep him inside your pocket or mark him so everyone would know that he was yours.

that even when he casually throws that silly grin to everyone, it is you who have his entire being.

“whoa—” satoru took a sharp breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as you bucked your hips against him. “sexy… what brought this—ah—on?”

“your fault.” you murmured, nibbling on his neck and sneakily unbuttoning his shirt. “you— manspread a lot.”

“huh…?”

“you were baiting me.”

you didn’t give him a chance to react as you devoured his lips next, placing both hands on his neck— suck, suck, suck and bite —and coupled by the feeling of your still clothed slit pressed against his bare cock, satoru grunted and let out a low moan.

“so—haah—spreading my legs… is a crime now, eh?”

“not when—mmm—in front of me.”

“you’re going to be the death— of me.” satoru chuckled, feeling sweat lining all over his body. you were a vixen under the guise of a proper wife—he supposed he already knew that but tonight really drove the fact home.

he was a mess—swollen lips, heavily panting—and damn, now you were trailing sloppy kisses down his chest, and then too near to his crotch—

“don’t t-tease me… sweets.” his voice was rough as he heaved a breath. you had cleverly dragged his inner desire enough for him not to think straight and oh suddenly he had a vision—

“—toru,” and the final straw was your small, needy tone.

with that, his senses went flying out the window. he didn’t really think much when he grabbed you close, slipped his fingers inside your panties to feel your wetness, before tearing it off and turning you over, causing you to fall back into his chest—

—followed by spreading your legs and rolling his hips, and effectively sheathing his hardened cock inside you.

“mphm!” you let out a hitched sigh, feeling so incredibly full all of a sudden.

“well, look at how the tables have turned.” you heard your husband snickering behind you.

you were still trying to catch your breath when you got distracted by his large hand under your dress, spreading across your belly and pressing on your noticeable baby bump ever so slightly.

you let out a mewl and as if he just realized what he did, satoru turned to you. “hey, you okay? is this comfy for you?”

you panted, looking away. “…comfy.”

“well, good. the moment you feel any discomfort, you have to tell me, ‘kay?”

“mm-hmm.”

“wanna move?”

“no, just… stay like this.”

“fine by me,” satoru licked his lips, feeling his hardness throbbing inside your tight folds. even after he had fucked a baby into you, the way you took him inside never failed to leave him breathless.

“well, now on to a more pressing issue…” he turned your chin towards him with his other hand, a giddy grin split his handsome face. “mind telling me, why did you suddenly pounce on me like that, hmm?”

your face burned with embarrassment. you couldn't possibly tell him that he was so irresistible you just had to bite him now, could you?

“can’t i? would you rather i don’t do it at all?”

“trying to evade the question, i see...” satoru’s smile evolved into a knowing smirk. “i seem to recall you finding me attractive for spreading my legs though but whatever. i’m happy either way, so right, let’s resume—”

he tapped your lower belly. “another pop-up quiz: what do you feel more here... me or our baby?”

you squirmed in his lap, feeling him twitch inside you and your entire body set ablaze. god. i’ve picked a wrong fight.

“no response? failing to answer will result in me deducting your marks, you know~”

“...is this your new kink? roleplaying as teacher?”

“i am a licensed teacher, sweets. i’m just putting things to practice~”

you wanted to facepalm. how was it that even in sex he was always finding ways to make you laugh?

“time’s up, little wifey,” satoru chuckled and oh lord, the way his body shook also made his cock vibrate inside you, splitting you further. “for the sake of time and my poor honey’s very delicate condition, i’ll grant your wish.”

you snorted. “what are you on this time?”

“turning your horny thoughts into reality,” he retorted, playfully pursing his lips. “but first thing first, i’ll have to regretfully pull out. we need to change positions. you’ll stay under me and let me do the rest, ’kay?”

you accidentally let out a whine at the sudden feeling of loss—your pussy clenching around nothing. but as he laid you down and discarded his pants, you were met with the bright gleam of his eyes and wicked grin... and you could already feel yourself growing wet once more.

“don’t worry, sweets... i’ll soon make you feel sooo good— just like i always have, yeah?”