CYTOSOL

please tell me im not insane and someone understands my vision here.

Also first syntax content since june or something I don’t remember, i just drew that guy from whatever I could find as a reference in my brain box.

bonk

“Haha yeah sorry for disappearing. I got ran over by a plane, [insert more random/terrifying/whatthefuckhowdidthatevenhappen stuff here]

Sigh.

Heeheheh HAIIII :3 ur art and ur writing is so GOOD BRO IM CHOMPING

WAHHH THANK YOU aaaaaaAAEEE

//uh very very brief mentions of alcohol//

other than that expect more content soon real not clickbait

more news at 11

Enjoy.

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You grumbled, attempting to tear off the fancy necktie you had bought the other day on the way to the spider’s room. Sure, you had decided to give dating a try, even after the terrible track record that was your love life. But hey, at least this guy seemed different, right?

Oh, how very wrong you were.

This royal jackass had decided to leave you waiting in the dining area of a nice restaurant, prepaid by you of course, so it ended up with you drinking some very ill booze. The alcohol wasn’t refined to your tastes, as most liquor isn’t, but hell… you paid for this and you were damn well gonna enjoy it.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

After an embarrassingly long time of waiting and being told to leave, your feet seemed to move on their own accord, quickly dragging your slightly dazed mind out of the room. Now, with that whole ordeal out of the way and checking your phone to yell at the dumbfuck who just ruined your day, you had come to the realization that he had ditched you.

Well, shoot dang.

And of course the weather was gloomy on the walk back, but you were grateful that it didn't start to fucking rain on the way home - or well, the shared residence between a Queen and her goons. 

Underground. In a cave system. 

Because that was the agreement.

When you had learned of your colleague getting turned into a literal demon, you were shocked at first, as anyone should be. But, there was the spark of empathy and concern for your friend. If you could call him that, which was still very debatable. The two of you had mutual respect for each other, and at times you two had talked and been vulnerable, that was usually after plenty of sleep deprivation though. Anyway, the point is that you can still go rant to him about your not so good day, and he would probably take your side in this situation. Just hope and pray that he’s not working ‘overtime’, in a cranky mood, or something else entirely.

The makeshift door to his room is closed, as usual, and you knock three times.

“You may enter.” His voice sounds a bit tired, and you reconsider disturbing him with your rather unfortunate experience. But you’ve already knocked and he’ll probably get more pissed if you just leave without saying anything after that.

And so you enter the dimly lit room, making sure to close the door behind you.

“Uh, hey man.” You mumble out, suddenly feeling very self conscious about your fancy as fuck clothes. Because normally, you’d stick to casual attire, but you had wanted to seem better put together for this guy.

The demon raises an eyebrow when he finally turns his swivel chair around, giving you a look of both intrigue and confusion.

“Well, what’s the occasion? Is someone getting married?” He asks, setting down the printed circuit assembly he had been messing with back on his workbench.

“Well, no. I might’ve gone on a date.” 

He chuckles, pointing a pen at you and your shattered dignity. “Dressed like that? Really, I mean you look nice, but isn’t it a bit much?” 

You huff, going to sit down on the floor next to Syntax and continue retailing the events of today. “It was a fancier establishment, mind you. But I was stood up by the dickhead.” 

He just nods, going back to his electronics. The odor of the soldering iron is there, indicating that he had been and was still working. 

“Mm. That’s unfortunate. But continue, if you will? I have a feeling that’s not all.” 

You roll your eyes, mumbling quietly. You’re not upset, but just annoyed that he’s able to read you this easily. Or maybe you’re just an open book, you’ll probably never know unless you ask with him about it. Which is something you’d rather not ask the technician since he one referred to you as a 'bright neon billboard' rather than the usual book in that analogy. “Yeah. I tried messaging or calling, but when I looked on my phone, I couldn’t find his contact info on anything. It’s like he just disappeared.” 

Syntax sighs, glancing over at you sitting on the floor next to him. The sight to him is quite silly, you in such formal wear,  yet still choosing to rest on the ground. “Just don’t let Hunt know or see you like this, he’ll never stop bullying you.” 

You chuckle, but nod anyway, it’s quite true that he wasn’t too fond of you. But then again that spider wasn’t fond of anyone, well, besides the Queen. Then you speak up again, replying to his words with something other than a movement. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. But c’mon, that man bullies everyone. He’s a straight up menace.”

The demon laughs, though it’s more like those airy ones where you just exhale quickly, yet everyone calls it a laugh. He doesn’t turn the chair again though, just focusing on connecting wires and doing what he does best.

Computer hardware.

“True, but you do look nice. I’ve never seen you so dressed up before, and the man that stood you up must either not have good taste, or he’s just plain… idiotic.” Syntax muters out, turning off the soldering iron, seemingly finished with whatever he was doing.

You’re slightly surprised at his words, but you still smile at the… compliment? You’re assuming that was a compliment. Eh, it doesn’t matter, he’s being nice. “Yeah, I guess so.” You’re unsure of how to respond, but you say something anyway.

“You finished?” A small question is asked, your curiosity not being able to contain itself.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’ve completed the work load for today,” Syntax replies to your inquiry.

You nod and give the technician a thumbs up, looking at him from the floor even though he’s not facing you. There’s a small pause, where you’re a bit unsure of how to further continue the conversation. So instead, you look around his quarters. For the first time noticing a small radio sitting in the corner, it plays some quiet music from a station.

You can’t really pick up on the beat, or the lyrics for that matter, but Syntax seems to enjoy it either way. Then, you just start to wonder what exactly this technician meant by his previous words. And soon enough, you’ve already come up with a mental theory board filled with red string and notes.

“Are you going to continue to daydream, or are you going to accompany me for coffee?”

You snap out of those thoughts, noticing that he’s standing now, his eyebrow raised while he was watching you mumble and staring at the radio for… only the gods know how long.

“Oh, yeah. Okay, okay, I’m getting up-” However a quick glance at your techy watch, courtesy of Syntax, would tell you that it’s already really late. Like, nearing ten PM late. 

“It’s dark out,” Your voice speaks, a hint of confusion growing there too.

“Yes, and? You expect me to go out in broad daylight?” He mutters, revealing to you that he doesn’t mean a trip to the group’s kitchen area. 

He means going outside.

And then, you remember how you look. The fancy clothing that currently adorns you, you think its amusing now, but some small part of you is still concerned about the thoughts of others. The spider seems to read your expression too well, so a plan comes to form in his mind.

“Well, if you’re nervous about something so… insignificant. Then, I guess I have no choice but to assist you.”

You’re immediately lost as to what this means. Syntax just ends up walking a few steps closer to you, looking you dead in the eyes, and in the most monotone and bemused filled voice goes:

“You look decent, and anyone who says otherwise is delusional, now stop fretting. But if you don’t… I will be needing your credit card without your supervision. My caffeine is very necessary, and I won’t hesitate to spend your savings for such a purpose,” He gives you a smirk, seemingly satisfied with how your eyes widen and your words don’t seem to be wording at all.

“Fine, fine. I’ll come with you to fuel your addiction,” You mumble, trying to ignore the slight heat on your face.

“Exellent. Now, should I call Hunt as well? Maybe he’ll have some other words of encouragement about your attire, hm?”

“Oh, fuck off.” 

Content: Fluff (i think)

Posted from my AO3 account to here

Enjoy :>

———————————————————————

It was not a good day, to say the least.

You had set your drink down on a bed of notes by mistake, so now there’s a ring of water decorating those rather important papers, your sparring match with Huntsman left you feeling more sore than usual, and your mood just wasn’t that great to begin with.

So now you’re stuck in Syntax’s room, having been sent to work on some printed circuit board assemblies with him. Not that that was bad, most of the time you loved working with someone who could match your intellect with computer and other electronic hardware.

It’s just for some reason you coudn’t get this stubborn LED to work properly.

Which was strange, to say the least. As this had never happened before, you struggling this badly over something so utterly simple. It was frustrating to you, so much so that the pen in your hand you were using for schematics was now brutality making contact with the table.

The pen nib was practically destroyed, but you kept going, finding a strange satisfaction in how it cracked under the pressure. But rather quickly Syntax notices this, looking over at you from his seat with an expression of slight concern and something akin to amusement.

“You’re lucky I didn’t like that pen.” He muses, getting up from his seat to walk over to you. His movements are swift and confident, like always, but you can already feel the snarky remark or joke coming any second now.

After a moment or two, you finally respond.

“Yeah, I really don’t like it either.”

He hums in acknowledgement, seemingly thinking about something. He can practically feel your bad temper right now, and he knows you’re rather fond of jokes. So he decides to take a small risk, doing something he’d normally never even think about, but to be fair, he’s also curious as to what your reaction could be if he finally says something other than a smug remark.

“You know, I just have to say… think of that poor pen’s feelings, hm? How would you feel if I banged you on the table like that?” A little smirk forms on his face, and he leans against your work station, supporting himself with a hand.

Your eyes widen slightly, and then a grin slowly begins to cover your face. “Do you want the ‘appropriate’ answer, or the ‘down horrendous’ answer?”

Now it’s his turn to stammer, seemingly caught off guard. Syntax had expected nothing short of a ‘shut up’ to his comment, so when you said that, it left him stumbling to calculate a response. You take notice of his current embarrassed expression, deciding to have a bit of fun with this now.

“Oh, c’mon. You really walked into that one. For someone so intelligent, I would’ve figured you’d have realized the double meaning there,” You lean back in your swivel chair, lightly tossing the broken pen onto the surface of the workstation.

He just huffs, picking himself and his dignity off of the metaphorical ground.

“Well, I didn’t know I was speaking with someone whose mind occupies the entire gutter!”

“You gotta admit, that was funny,” You laugh, smiling like a fool at his reaction. He’s not genuinely mad, you can tell, but it’s still very silly.

Syntax just sighs, rolling his eyes and feigning annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re decent with hardware, otherwise I would’ve kicked you out of here already.”

This time around, he’s more careful as to not say anything that could be turned into a sexual joke. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy it, but it’s more interesting for the both of them if he puts up a fight. But you do glance over at the ridiculously stubborn LED from earlier, feeling a little bit down again with how you weren’t able to get it to function correctly.

Before you respond to the technician, your hands find themselves moving with a new idea. The LED is replaced with a newer red one, after turning off the power to the prototyping breadboard of course. Then you switch the button back on.

It begins emitting light, like the other one was supposed to do.

You celebrate for a split second before turning back to Syntax, a pleased expression on your face. The original light is between your thumb and index finger now, and then you place it to the side.

“It appears this one is a dud, didn’t these come in yesterday though?” You ask curiously, wanting to make sure you’re remembering things right.

He hums out an answer with a nod alongside it. “Yes, but the Queen insisted we go for more… nominal resources.”

You nod as well, feeling a little bit annoyed with such actions. The cheaper the materials, the harder it will be to do things, not to mention the risk of something malfunctioning. Then if, or rather when something goes wrong, them two will be the ones taking the blame for it.

“Well, that sucks,” You mutter, looking over at the burnt out LED, then to the functioning one.

“Nothing we can do about it,” The spider demon just sits back down in his chair, beginning to clean the area.