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what did i do, what did i do (to get my mind stuck on you)
[Kieran/MC, (implied) Sylus/MC ★ 1.2k words ★ Masterlist ★ AO3]
So, the mask stayed on—figuratively. Literally.
A/N: Somehow somebunny's fault /LH jk I really don't know know where this came from, but I started writing one afternoon……. and yeah <3
Tag List: beneath cut 【 request to be added 】
Without realizing it, Kieran smiled at her, though no one would ever see that brief joy that remained hidden behind his mask.
They had both let the impossible happened. A secret that never should have formed now existed between them both.
She belonged to no one, but she was meant for someone.
Not him.
Could never be him.
But for this uncertain period, Kieran treaded where he shouldn’t have, experimenting with accidental touches, testing the line that was never meant to be crossed.
However, she pulled him to her first, wanting to freefall with him into the unknown.
She boldly touched the mask, lifting only enough to expose his lips. It was a thin, hard line, but also no longer guarded and hidden behind a barrier, so she stole a kiss, and another, and another. Greedily, she left him breathless, breaking through his guard and overwhelming him, dizzying him with only thoughts of her.
He could get lost in her, allowing himself to be just as greedy and daring, but at the sound of familiar, heavy footsteps from down the hallways, their rendezvous was forced to halt.
Sylus.
Quick and nimble, she disappeared just like a dream, only her touch lingered, but still his heart continued to pound, pulsing for her, feeling her phantom weight on him long after her sudden departure.
When the door opened, Kieran was grateful for his mask hiding his flushed cheeks and the evidence of his first betrayal.
To Kieran’s surprise, his voice was steady, his breathing normal again.
Sylus was always unreadable, so Kieran allowed himself to believe nothing was amiss.
Nothing was amiss.
Their conversation carried on—all business between them both with some jest on his end, but even as Kieran’s words tumbled out so smoothly and effortlessly, his mind wandered back to her, wondering if she still felt his heat on her.
When Luke entered the room, their eyes briefly locked in on one another.
Kieran knew Luke also tasted her. Their forced bond cursed them both to always share the same senses experienced by the other twin. However, Luke remained silent, his loyalty to his twin rose above all others.
Unshakeable. Unbreakable. Unyielding.
That was their bond and loyalty to one another.
He wondered, though, did Luke also feel the same satisfaction when her warm, soft lips were on his? Did his body shiver where she brazenly touched? Did he feel the same heat of her breath on him?
Kieran crushed all of those treacherous thoughts even as a knot was forming, tightening within the pit of his stomach.
Luke was loyal.
His loyalty was unshakeable, unbreakable, unyielding.
Kieran, however, almost laughed at his own hypocrisy. Did he have any right to judge another man’s loyalty when his own was no longer black and white?
The lack of a moral compass meant it was easier to tell lies, whether it was to others, or even… to himself. The guilt, thankfully, went away when Kieran remembered she belonged to no one.
She was meant for someone, but not yet. Not now.
(Not ever, he wished.)
So, he enjoyed her first, but maybe there was still some cowardice in his actions, always needing to find her in empty rooms or hidden in shadows where no eyes or cameras could ever capture their movements. She was no different, he realized, as they both wordlessly agreed to be each other’s secret.
They didn’t share a word. Didn’t share thoughts or dreams or fears either. Those were too intimate. They couldn’t be intimate. Could never be intimate.
They could just be, but nothing more. Nothing ever.
The word “lovers” didn’t exist between them.
They just were.
No word could define them, and they both cared little for such trivial labels. There was no need for such meaningless sentiments.
It was nice, Kieran realized, that they shared the same thought—the same lack of desire to put meaning on this fling.
A fling.
Perfect, he told himself. That was it. A fling.
She was his and he was hers.
Not lovers.
But just a moment. A fleeting fling that would end on no uncertain terms in due time.
Though he wondered far too often why “fling” still felt inadequate. This doubt lingered, wanting to fester inside him like a horrid disease.
He didn’t care.
He told himself he didn’t care.
Kieran was good at lying.
To others.
To himself.
Seize her lips, steal her breath away.
Swallow your name before she could fully utter it.
Feel her on you. Feel her grinding down on your thigh, feel how she needs you like the air that she breathes.
Impatient hands tugged at his clothes, and when he pressed her down on the table, top unbuttoned, bra revealed—he stilled, breathing hard when she reached for his mask, removing it—revealing him.
Beads of sweats dripped down the side of his face. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears, his eyes unable to tear away from hers, seeing himself reflected back—the trauma of all those stolen years etched on his features stared back at him. Suddenly, reality returned in a cruel rush as he hastily claimed back the mask, took control away from her, and he backed away on unsteady feet, feeling like the ground could open up right then and swallow him whole.
She sat up, looking at him knowingly.
She didn’t say anything.
He didn’t either.
They never did.
But they understood.
So, the mask stayed on—figuratively. Literally.
Ahead, Sylus and she walked with such grace and magnificence, their aura demanding respect so effortlessly. They matched one another, her energy the same as Sylus’. The Onychinus leader was becoming like her while she changed for him. Almost like two long-lost souls finding one another again.
Kieran trailed behind, second to his leader. He would never overthrow or betray Sylus. His respect and loyalty to the man banished such thoughts, and his own lack of ambition kept him stagnated where he was most comfortable.
He liked where he was, but around her, he wondered.
He wondered, he wondered, he wondered.
Would it be better if he was someone else?
Or if she wasn’t who she was.
What could they be if they stripped away their current roles? What masks could they put on instead? Across the stretches of infinity, was there even a piece of time for them both?
He wondered, he wondered, he wondered.
Stuck in this wrong time, wrong place, they could only be thieves, stealing looks and moments, and if they were bold, a kiss or two, but nothing more. Never more.
The maybes and what-ifs and the impossible swirled around in his head, plaguing him, sickening him with such maddening fantasies of him and her.
He could grow bolder with his thievery.
Take what wasn’t his.
Steal her away.
Run away together.
And then what?
And then what, and then what, and then what—
He paused when her laughter reached him from distances away, pulling him out of his disillusion to gaze upon her once more.
He stayed put, eyes looking through the holes of his mask to her disappearing form.
Stuck in this wrong time, wrong place, they could only be thieves, stealing looks and moments, and if they were bold, a kiss or two, but nothing more. Never more.
So we’re just choosing to rip my heart out today? Yeah, no, that’s cool. THIS IS ALL JUST A WARM UP FOR SYLUS’ MYTH.
I am OBSESSING over these stolen moments together and I am SO FREAKING stoked we got the added tie in of the shared senses that the twins have.
But my poor baby, thinking he doesn’t deserve her or “love” in general. OOOOOOOOH this burns so good. Him trying to convince himself this was just physical and nothing emotional. You can literally see him falling for her and yet doing everything in his power to wall off his heart because he knows he can’t have her.
Then him watching her walk off with Sylus, laughing, and wondering if she’ll steal a glance back at him. UGH!!!! My heart! And then THIS DAMN LINE…
Alright people. It's time to start freaking out about Sylus' myth dropping in the next week. I may have read through all Sylus' cards again today to make notes on my thoughts lol.
So we all know the trend is MC dying in the 3 myths. So it's no surprise we're all expecting her to die again in Sylus' upcoming myth. But the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced we're gonna see her dying directly BECAUSE of Sylus. I can't decide yet whether I think it's because he couldn't save her in time, or because he loses control and accidentally kills her (aether core). But there are so many easter eggs that I don't think it's because she sacrifices herself for him the way she did for Zayne and Rafayel.
Spiderma—I mean Sylus has shown an obvious knee-jerk panicked reaction to MC falling. Not only that, but this year there has been an on-going theme of them falling together constantly. (which could also be a nod to the whole "fallen angel/deity" theory). So I feel like there could be two things wrapped in here.
1. There is a potential for something happening to MC in this 3rd myth that reminds Sylus of her falling and him not catching her (could be when/how they got ripped apart by the deepspace tunnel) >>>
(This is from the end of Sylus’s part in Death and Rebirth. Also note that it specifically says “capable of tearing apart any form of energy”—Sylus’ evol is energy manipulation.)
2. All this falling shit is a direct pointer to his "fall from grace".
All the falling scenarios:
Beyond Cloudfall: MC falls off the edge of a cliff and Sylus freaks out and dives to save her. (This is a little more, no duh, as anyone would have a similar response to someone falling off a cliff ledge, but it's just adding to the falling theme)
Valleydream Bloom: The classic scene where he holds MC as they free-fall into the flowers.
Where Hearts Live: She falls and he catches her, and you see his face look worried af for a second thinking she got hurt before he morphs back into his typical smug self.
Lovespeed Ride: She almost falls off the jet ski and he catches her, once again, has that look of fear for a second before quickly masking and playing it off.
Alternative Darkborne: He deliberately grabs her wrist before they jump/fall off the edge of the crumbling church to ensure she's safe in his arms. (more on this card in particular later)
Improvised Flow: This is more subtle, 'blink and you'll miss it', unless you slow down the kindled. When he and MC are in the dressing room and she turns to see who turned off the lights, she trips and falls backwards. If you slow it down frame by frame you'll notice Sylus has this quick flash of worry/fear in his eyes as he catches her and spins them mid-fall so she lands on top of him. It's less dramatic than his birthday card and is hidden under the layers of steamy vibes that are going on, but it's there nonetheless. ALSO, this might be reaching a bit, but in all 5 dances, Sylus is the only one who is putting MC in deep dipping (falling) positions where he is what is solely holding her up. Not once, not twice, but three times. Call me crazy, but I don't think that's coincidence.
Other interesting tidbits:
Nightplumes: When releasing the dove that he took care of for MC, she mentions "...I’ve noticed that whenever you want to protect something, you always make sure to protect it well." Sylus follows up with "You think too highly of me." but then covers with some snark saying he's not a philanthropist, to which MC states she doesn't care, because she doesn't need his protection. Sylus' response is, "...really? *pause* Heh, it's for the best." INTERESTING. So Sylus, are you saying that because of guilt?
Also, while there are other really good theories surrounding some Norse mythology (Odin/Loki type vibes), I still am leaning more towards the fallen angel/deity. The feather motifs that I initially thought were all kinda a crow-themed vibe with Mephie, now make me think this has more to do with his possible wings. Another interesting thing that makes me wonder about the "fallen" aspect is the ornament Sylus gifted MC during the Touring in Love event. Have you noticed that the feathers inside are white, but when you click the jar for the interactive feature, they turn black as they swirl? Light->Dark? Is this representative of his fall or is it symbolism for MC's white feathers and Sylus' black ones? (her wedding dress encorporating white feathers)
There are other, more in-your-face signs too, like Sylus' famous line, "A gentle touch is an alluring trap that can lead to your fall from grace," or him literally calling himself a demon at the claw machine.
Another line, "...you are my unforgivable sin in the fabric of eternity." In the new world underneath update, love is seen as a grave sin in Philosian law. "Emotions are poisonous seeds of desire." So it makes you wonder if this 3rd myth is set even before he was a dragon, and that after he "sinned" he was cast out and cursed with the aether core that gives him so many problems to this day. We know now that he struggles to control the feelings of intense desire and greed the aether core gives him, and as a dragon, he was cursed to eventually go mad and kill the person he fell in love with. So after he sinned by giving in to his emotions... was he cursed to feel them so much that it drove him to madness until he consumed them?
Now back to Alternative Darkborne. This was heavy on symbolism in general. Obviously the church was a callback to his dragon myth, but I think it's very telling how they set everything up. They literally fall from a church/cathedral that is lit in an ethereal manner and fall to a place below that has more of a dark shadowy vibe. Also, the camera pans back up at the end of the scene to look up at the sky, as if to remind you they just fell from above.
And then we have Mephisto... short for Mephistopheles. In countless legends, Mephistopheles is seen as the Devil's messenger/agent/worker and is a demon himself.
Last thought, in Death and Rebirth we see him pulling MC out of the crumbling research center and he appears to have wings. And I don't feel like it's just metaphorical.
Also, anyone find it funny that Lucifer/Satan was once an angel that defied god and was cast out of heaven to become the devil and then was depicted in biblical references (book of Revelation) as a dragon?
IDK, I'm just spitballing brain leakage now, and once the myth actually comes out watch it be completely different lol. Which is why I think it could still be a “fallen” theme but maybe not an angel but some bird-like humanoid creature. Especially with all the bird/wing/feather designs on his clothes. I have a bunch of other tie ins to this theme but some are a little more of a stretch so I didn’t include them. Regardless, I'm so freaking excited and need this trailer drop YESTERDAY.
I’m just reposting this and skimming cuz you know, don’t wanna spoil things for myself when I play the game and all. Yeahhhh that’s it.
Obviously this myth is going to talk about why Sylus chose to make Mephisto cuz like birds and feathers and flying and stuff. That is my completely educated guess.
The onboarding phase for Onychinus has to be brutal. Sylus makes it harder because you’re his partner. You don’t take handouts, and you don’t want people thinking you got hired just because you screw the boss (even though, essentially…yeah). All the training and desensitizing you go through just to be a secretary or an IT specialist is amplified.
“Sylus, why do I need to know how to flay a man alive just to troubleshoot your comms?”
“Versatility, sweetie. You never know when you’ll be called to do more than correct an upside-down screen.”
Exhausted from yet another shift at a thankless job that would replace you in a heartbeat, you drag yourself into your apartment.
Your eyes burn from straining them, staring at monitors all day. Your wrists are sore, fingers cracking when you flex them, shoulders tight. Your teeth have been clenched for most of the day—they usually are when dealing with ornery customers and your coworkers who you’re sure couldn’t navigate their way out of a tunnel with glowing arrows pointing towards the exit.
You’re still wearing your badge and lanyard around your neck, too tired to take it off on the commute home. Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you’re cruel for not yet feeding it. You were too busy parsing through layers of script and reciting lines engraved into your memory over the phone, trying valiantly to help an elderly woman turn on her damn laptop she swore ‘didn’t work.’
As you kick off your shoes in the entryway of your apartment, your cat melts from the harsh cut of darkness to greet you.
Her tail’s high and curled at the tip, vibrating with excitement at having her primary source of food and personal heater home. She winds herself around your ankles, adorning the hems of your slacks with fur you’ll have to roll out tomorrow morning. Oh well.
She offers a little reprieve from the maelstrom of your mind, looking up at you with those adoring eyes, slow-blinking, and welcoming you with a soft, “Mrrrp.”
You greet her in kind, an exhausted smile rounding your lips when you crouch to pet through soft tufts of fur. Even your voice is thick with it, raspy and weathered, as you coo adoringly, scritching under her chin. When she’s had her fill, she nips your finger, licks her paw as if you’ve tainted her with the ick of a desk job, and pads away as soundlessly as the shadows filling every corner of your living space.
Brushing your hands off on your quads, you lug yourself into the kitchen, intent on exorcising the little demon in your belly with day-old takeout. When your hand finds the fridge’s handle, the pressure around you shifts, and your blood turns to ice. The hairs littering your body stand ramrod stiff, goosebumps igniting like solar flares across your skin.
The room suddenly feels too cold. Whispers of blasphemy salt the air, mashed together to form a stream of dizzying incoherencies, until they peter out like smoke from a smothered flame. The shadows adorning the kitchen shift, receding like you’re what’s repelling them. A tremor of sound follows behind you, like feathers drifting to the ground following a bird taking flight.
Gradually, the tension that once congealed in your body melts away. Your shoulders slump, your hand dropping listlessly from the refrigerator. You don’t have to turn to know who—or what—is behind you, taking up space near your kitchen island like he’s always been a part of your apartment’s structure.
As if the change in static and the cold dread he ushers in weren’t enough to announce his presence, he chuckles in that dramatic, brooding trillionaire way. A low burr that prickles your toes and ricochets up your spine until it concludes its journey at the crown of your head.
He’s always so dramatic, rarely knocking like a normal person. You’ve partially grown used to it, his penchant for theatrics, though you’ll probably never get the hang of how he materializes from nothing like he spins the threads of spacetime into reality himself.
“Long day, sweetie?” comes his rhetorical greeting.
You bristle. Don’t dignify him with a response, too tired to entertain his catty games tonight. You still don’t turn around, instead moving from the fridge to your cupboard to fetch a glass with a long-suffering sigh.
You see him in your mind’s eye—the paradigm of smoldering smugness, elbow propped on your kitchen island, chin in his palm. He watches you with eyes that bleed more mischief than sympathy. A Cheshire grin to match, as if he’s in on some perpetual joke that you’ll never hear the punchline to.
A part of you thinks he basks in your misery, knowing that you’re at wits’ end, your resolve whittling down. Like he knows it’s only a matter of time before you concede to his constant badgering to join him.
After filling a glass with water, you finally acknowledge your intruder. And, of course, he’s everything you thought he would be. Smirking like the devil come to collect on a soul, his expensive suit jacket flaring off brawny shoulders, the brooch of his collar gleaming condescendingly in the lowlight.
He studies you like something to be taken apart, whilst your treacherous feline melts beneath his scratching on the countertop, bunting her little cranium against his fingers, purring like she’s never known loyalty in her life.
You lean against the counter after taking a swig of the water, setting your glass down with a definitive clack. That’s when the devil makes his next move.
“It looks like you’re enjoying yourself, battling carpal tunnel, paper cuts, and the boredom of civilian life.”
Narrowing your eyes, you affix him with a small smile that’s everything but amused. He plays like he’s innocent. Like he’s here to merely check on his girlfriend and ensure she hasn’t succumbed to the mindless humdrum of cubicle life. But you know better. Beneath that mask of feigned empathy lies a wolf in wait, eager to pounce on worn-down prey.
“If you worked for Onychinus—”
And, there it is. That deep drawl of intention. Proposition cloaked as nonchalance.
Perhaps it’s because he’s finally worn you down after months of asking. And maybe it’s because, yeah, you are tired of being the single point of failure while also cleaning up after your coworkers and making your team leader look like a golden child. Maybe you truly are exhausted with the carpal tunnel, staring at the featureless grey of your cubicle walls, and putting on an act as if you’re the most approachable person in the world when it takes all of you just to get up every morning.
Maybe you want some color in your life that Linkon, ceaselessly bright and bustling, can’t give you. Maybe you secretly burn to wet your knuckles with something other than blue light. Perhaps bashing someone’s face in is the excitement you need. A car chase. The thrill of a business deal at your boyfriend’s side gone wrong.
Because, after months of staving off his offers, you concede, head bowed, shoulders set.
“Fine.”
It’s comical how Sylus’ lips hover around words corked in his throat, and how he blinks at you like you’ve grown a second head. Even your cat curiously cants her head, your boyfriend’s fingers paused near her tail.
“You—what?”
“Fine,” you parrot, throwing up your hands in depleted surrender. “I’ll join Onychinus.”
For the first time since he became your lover, the unshakable Sylus Qin looks stumped. His perfectly constructed passivity is gone, making way for a hinged-open mouth and fluttering lashes like he’s trying to shake himself from a trance. His breath leaves in a stunned exhale, a disbelieving laugh as your cat dismounts the countertop to bury her face in her food bowl.
“You’re…serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
“This is truly what you want?”
“Keep asking, and I’ll change my mind.”
You’re both caught in a wordless stare-down as if daring the other to call each other’s bluffs. You’re not backing down, hands on hips, jaw set. Neither is he, eyes flitting across your features like scrutinizing you alone could peel back the flimsy layers of what he assumes could be a lie. He could very well tap into the power imbued in his right eye to test your resolve, but where’s the fun in that?
When it settles in his mind that you’re for real this time, not humoring him to tease, to get him off your back, a slow smirk pulls at his lips. He’s back in negotiation mode, pressing his fingertips together, and leaning forward like you’ve presented him with something worthwhile.
“Then, if you’re sure…” He extends a hand for you to shake.
You scoff, thinking he can’t be serious. Sylus watches you expectantly, and you roll your eyes, giving in. His handshake is warm and firm, sealing your fate. It’s too late to back out now—you’ve already signed a contract with Lucifer.
“Welcome to Onychinus.”
Unbeknownst to you, your welcoming phase is literal hell on Earth, all because you’re the boss’s lover.
THE THINGS I WOULD DO. THE SHIT I WOULD CUT OFF MY BODY AND SELL. JUST…. Just please… please I just want one chance. 😫 I wanna work for Onychinus so damn bad.
I always appreciate kitties in my stories. I’m such a cat lover that I’m instantly like—SQUIRREL—ooh! A kitty in this story!!!! I’m fwopping my feets around like a happy little urchin child lol.
BUT CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT SYLUS’ ENTRANCE????? I LOVE THIS DESCRIPTION. I think people take for granted that since Sylus’ evol is energy manipulation… it’s going to literally affect the molecular makeup of your spatial surroundings. You’ll literally FEEL it when he does things because he can manipulate molecular structure. So this made me SO giddy to get such an impressive description of him just appearing. Because I absolutely think it would feel like this. It’d be very off putting and probably almost give you an anxious feeling. 1. Just due to the dynamics of his evol, but 2. Because of his demon-like aura. We know he feeds on souls (protocores) so his aura is very likely a very demonic feel. Obviously you’d get used to it eventually and see it as familiar feeling instead of scary af, but it’d probably always feel a little… jump scary.
LURVE this and I’d also like to take a ticket to join. Where is the application sign up? I have skills! Does Onychinus need medical personnel??? 🙋🏻♀️ hehe
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The onboarding phase for Onychinus has to be brutal. Sylus makes it harder because you’re his partner. You don’t take handouts, and you don’t want people thinking you got hired just because you screw the boss (even though, essentially…yeah). All the training and desensitizing you go through just to be a secretary or an IT specialist is amplified.
“Sylus, why do I need to know how to flay a man alive just to troubleshoot your comms?”
“Versatility, sweetie. You never know when you’ll be called to do more than correct an upside-down screen.”
Would I be a diversity hire since I’m Korean? Or is that not a thing there. I too am an orphan, do I get to sleep with MC as well or is that just the twins who get that privilege…
This may sound harsh to some people (even though it's truly not), so if you don't wear big girl/boy/adult/dragon/whatever panties, just keep scrolling.
But, if you post anon in someone's inbox and tell them you missed them/their work....
Bullshit.
And before people get all bent out of shape talking about shyness and social anxiety... lemme explain to you why this comes across as "bullshitty".
There is a time and place where it's more understandable to show up anon, like for a request or something. But there are very few reasons to be anonymous when you're merely telling someone you think their work is great, or that you missed seeing them in the space.... Unless, maybe, you're scared you'll out yourself for being one of the non-supporting consumers who led them to give up in the first place. Because if you did support them, it would have been public on your blog, so why are you suddenly posting anon now? See what I mean?
Nope. Don't look at me like that. Holding up a mirror isn't mean. Uncomfortable, maybe. But it's not mean or bitchy. And if the shoe doesn't fit, great!
Listen, I have hella anxiety too and have felt that inhibition to interact for fear of being annoying/weird/disliked/scared/you name it. That's not what we're talking about here.
Stay with me, angry keyboard warriors.
Imagine creating art or writing for thousands of people who enjoy your shit yet never interact, but the second you're gone or stop pumping content out, they're complaining about it or at least talking about it. It takes a ton of effort and work for creators to make content AND ONLY HITTING A LIKE BUTTON HERE IS TRASH so don't act like you're a supporter if all you do is click the ❤️.
No one is saying you have to comment and reblog every single fucking thing people create. Obviously, you won't like everything they put out. But c'mon guys.
Do. Better. And if you're truly that scared or uncomfortable interacting in comments or with notes in the tags, you literally don't even have to write anything. Just hit reblog. That way, you're at least supporting your favorite creators and pushing their work out to more viewers.
You bury your face into your pillow, groaning softly at how ridiculous your thoughts sound.
Sylus shifts slightly behind you, sensing the minute change in your demeanor. His voice is a sudden rumble of amusement and comfort, so scarily close to your ear, you jolt like you’ve been caught doing something naughty.
Technically, you have, his hand still between your legs, cupping your throbbing, overstimulated sex through your sleep shorts.
“You’re thinking incredibly hard. Do I get to know what about?”
You grow still, cold dread prickling your limbs. You have a feeling he already knows—he’s attuned to your vitals, and your body is too good at betraying you.
A laugh, soft, effortless. Not tinny, not practiced, not a programmed response to give humans peace of mind. It’s real. He feels real.
“Your heart rate spiked. Would you like me to guess the cause of it?”
Deciding to rip off the bandage, you uncover your face from the pillow and tilt your head slightly back over your shoulder.
Mirthful, scarlet optics crease, taking you in. His thumb strokes reassurance into your hip, still so very gentle despite the unfettered filth he muttered to you some five minutes ago.
Swallowing, you say, “Your initialization speech. When you first powered on back then.”
He fills the gap of avoidant eyes and hovering lips efficiently. “Ah, yes. That part.”
A new wave of warmth enlivens your cheeks.
That part.
That part being the bit about how he was capable of 200 forms of intimacy (what?), and how he could pleasure you in any way you desired. The section of his startup speech you pretended not to latch onto, interrupting him because the thought of fucking an android back then was pure blasphemy.
Now look at you. You’ve experienced at least one of them. The capabilities of his fingers. Won’t deny that you’re now curious about the other 199. And the attachments he mentioned…the ribbed ones. Vibrating ones. Immeasurably long. The bits shaped like tentacles and dragon—
“Would you like me to clarify some answers you’re not yet brave to ask for?”
Your face finds its home in the pillow again. God, he doesn’t have to be so damn smug about it. Despite your mortification, you manage a smothered, “Yes.”
Why do you feel like you’re going to regret being so curious?
i'm honestly so lazy and haven't changed the backgrounds since getting this phone. 🙈 but i also like those simple things and hey, it's at least purple! 😄
tagging (no pressure obviously): @circle--of--confusion, @lobobathory, @krakintakin,
Thank you for the tag (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ here's my little fuckery, altho I don't have a separate lock screen oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ stickers are clickable! („• ֊ •„)
Tagging without pressure @heartofafiend and @janekburza ❤️
Where was all this Asian obsession years ago? Hmmph. Well, just so you know these guys are all going to be 40 eventually, so if you wanna get ahead of the game, I’m here for you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Tumblr’s going to eat the quality again, but 🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️ Cleaned it up on the PC for the contest and added a smidge more. This is all @deepspacenova @blessdunrest @unknown-ends and @darkeskye’s faults for blowing my head up too big. Trigger warning for flashing lights!
idol rafayel having a wardrobe malfunction while performing onstage with you so you try help fix it while still doing the choreo but he gives you a wink so you just go with it and rip his shirt open completely while the crowd loses their mind
Idol sylus purposely creating a 2-in-1 outfit for you where your cocktail dress unfurls into a layered gown, sparkling rubies blinding everyone in the crowd. At a snap of his fingers, the lights turn off, and the rhinestones on his jacket glow brighter than any flame known to mankind.
idol zayne noticing a fan collapse mid-set and stops the show without missing a beat. He vaults off the stage, headset still on, kneeling beside them as he instantly switches roles. Immediately recognizing the signs of hypoglycemia and confirming his diagnosis with the fan’s friend, he yells for backstage staff to get his snacks from his dressing room.
idol zayne staying with the fan—despite them assuring him they’re okay—until the event paramedics file down the rows of seats and take over.
idol zayne restarting the song, and as the chorus swells, raising his hand and turning the entire arena into a giant sized, glittering snowglobe. (Effectively cooling the thousands of overheated fans better than any A/C)
Kieran and Mephisto sitting up in the girders dropping random little shit on peoples head to see if anyone notices. Luke tied to the girders because he almost fell off.
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@blessdunrest you put this in my head, and now it’s stuck.
The twins in the center of the cuddle pile, Sylus and Zayne flanking them, for nap time.
Grooming sessions where Zayne and Sylus have to hold the twins still and nip them so they can clean them while the boys flail around.
Finding Sylus and Zayne curled up in the cat tree with their tails twined together, forming a heart shape.
Luke tangled up in the string for the blinds.
Kieran, shoving his face into one of your house shoes, pops out with his little cat mouth hinged open as he commits your scent to memory.
When they’re too affectionate, you lock them out of the bedroom so you can get some sleep. You end up letting them all back in anyway because they keep scratching at the door, shoving their little paws under the slit, and yowling until you wake up.
You let them outside a few times to get some fresh air. Sylus stays lounging in the shade because the sun vexes him. Zayne brings you a bird he caught because he notices you haven’t eaten (or that you’re too stupid to hunt for yourself). The twins bring you something shiny they stole from the neighbor’s house.
Sylus has somehow become the leader of all the neighborhood cats. He knows all the underground routes like the back of his paw because he has kitty goblins everywhere (bonus if they’ve all somehow been affected by the same affliction).
Zayne grooms you when you’re sad, licking your hair until he’s satisfied it’s saturated with saliva. Sylus sits on your lap, his purr motor seemingly broken as he tries his best to “heal” you. Luke flops onto his back, exposing his belly to you only to nom on your fingers and sink his claws into your hand when you fall into his trap. Kieran bunts his little cranium against your fingers, marking you with his scent and trying his best to cheer you up.
The cat chirps. They communicate with each other in a way you can’t understand that’s inherently unique to cats. But it’s fun watching them get into little spats while Sylus sits at the center of it, tail swishing irritably. You don’t have to speak cat to know he’s done with everyone’s shit.
They follow you from room to room, piling at your feet when you sit down to use the potty. Luke and Kieran are scared, meowing and trying to save you from the “evil water” when you lounge in the bathtub.
Speaking of water, there’s Sylus giving you the silent treatment after you bathed him ‘cause he got into one of your potted plants and stained his gorgeous fur with soil.
The trilling and purring never stop when you give them wet food. Thank god it’s not that shitty kibble. They will go on strike before eating it again.
Waking up to Zayne tapping your nose to make sure you’re still breathing. He has a mini heart attack each time you sleep, thinking you’ve passed away (cats apparently freak out when we sleep because they think we’re dead so they’ll check to see if we’re still breathing).
Also waking to Sylus at the foot of the bed, scarlet eyes aglow in the darkness, wide and terrifying, staring at you (he’s guarding you, he swears it).
Everyone losing their shit when you come home after being gone the entire day. For you, it’s a few hours. For them, it’s a lifetime.
Two kitties on either side of you. One on your chest, vibrating with contentedness. The other is at your feet, slow blinking, but watching the door. They rotate positions throughout the night like soldiers on guard. They might not be themselves, but they’ll still protect you with the nine lives they’re afforded in this state.
You whip out the cat wand, and Sylus is absolutely mortified. You find said wand later ripped to shreds with the iridescent feathers covered in vomit and fur (he ate them and regurgitated them as a ‘fuck you’).
Let someone at Lux forget their place and hit on you because they think the four men have abandoned you. Hell will be unleashed in the form of claws, bites, and skippity paps (Sylus orchestrated it all, standing amid the chaos like a king swallowed by fire).
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