Okay but what about an AU where u get isekaied into the LADS universe right after MC gets hurt fighting wanderers or smth
At first the guys don’t believe you are actually a different person. Not because they didn’t believe that you believed you were different, but they just believed the injury was temporary causing amnesia.
Make it worse that MC had already been dating [your LI main/mains] so you both love the attention and feel AWFUL for wanting it
But the months go by and they realize you aren’t getting any of her memories back. They learn to accept it.
Maybe they distance themselves a bit. Maybe they get quietly angry (not at you, more at the situation). Maybe they try to get to know you.
Maybe they learn to love and accept the new you.
Maybe they disappear from your life completely, needing distance from the image of what was basically a ghost of their love. Maybe they come back. Maybe they don’t. Maybe they watch from a distance.
And then maybe memories start to return to you. And you start to doubt yourself. Doubt reality.
Because if you were getting her memories, what does that mean for your own? Was that real?
And then eventually everything comes together.
Your brain, her brain, had created your memories after the injury. The guys had been right.
But you still feel detached from it.
Maybe you’re able to tell the guys and they help you through it. Maybe they figured it out before you even did.
Idk where I was going with this my brain just needed to get it out :/
listening to a man break up with his partner on the train and the first sentence I heard was "I just don't appreciate you cheating on me six different times, once with my own father."
#this post is one hr old and has been on my dash #FIVE TIMES #from completely separate people #not mutuals reblogging each other #people I follow who all reblogged it from someone different#I’m fascinated
everyone wants to mock my suggestive birdwatching mishaps
My first job after graduation was in land management, and part of it was to monitor the nest boxes for occupancy. During breeding season, I'd go and check them every two weeks ish, take photos, and record species and numbers of chicks. Mostly, this meant blue tits.
Anyway, early on, I do my rounds one day and get back to my office to record the findings. As I'm looking at one of the photos, I think to myself "Hang on. These look different from the others. They have black heads, not blue, and I think maybe they are bigger. Perhaps these are great tits?"
But of course! As they were still moulting, I wasn't sure; and so, with the wisdom of the terminally stupid, I confidently opened up Google, went to an image search, and there on my work computer in my office in my brand new job, I typed in "great tit chicks."
The results I got were not what I expected. But. Should have been.
I had to IMMEDIATELY go and fess up to my new boss and be like HEY I don't know if you monitor our internet use at all but uuuhhhhhh I can explain. Fortunately she just about pissed a kidney laughing, so it was okay.
You know, there is something that has been chewing at the back of my brain for quite a while now.
Everyone in the N109 Zone knows what Sylus looks like. EVER knows what Sylus looks like. Destiny's Café knows what Sylus looks like.
Yeah sure, he uses aliases from time to time but let's be real it is hardly ever.
All that and you mean to tell me the Hunters Association doesn't know what Sylus looks like? I mean the sheer number of people that can give them a sketch is crazy.
Myer, who followed Sylus across planets has seen him play claw machines with MC and hang out with her because he follows Sylus constantly, which means he would know where she works, would also know her employer is looking for him, which means he could approach them and say this is what he looks like. Right?
This man pulls up to the building and strolls in and talks to bosses etc etc. And the organisation is asleep with zero leads on an appearance?
Oh nah…
I smell a rat.
And that rat is Xavier/Lumiere/Founder (alleged but come on) of said association.
Because he runs around the N109 from time to time so for sure he knows what Sylus looks like. Yet he didn't turn that description in either.
Ok put that aside. They have recordings of his voice. And it is a very distinct voice. Tara and them saw Skye at karaoke with a voice matching their most wanted on tapes they probably heard ten times over and everyone was on snooze?
No honey. They all know. Every last one of them. And they all said “No we didn’t!” And looked the other side.
MC is constantly in the N109. WITH A WATCH ON HER WRIST THAT FUNCTIONS AS A TRACKER AT ALL TIMES.
Everyone is just pretending at this point because no way!
It's the rug. Hunters association holding one corner open. MC sweeping her man in. Everyone pretending not to see the Sylus shaped indent on it.
And we know Jenna loves letting shit slide for the girl. Almost like Xavier - her real boss who is pretending to be a subordinate- told her to.
Yall feeling this conspiracy though right???
Because even if we go with the theory that like his dragon myth that different people see a different face and only MC and his closest ones can see his true form (I highly doubt that's the case honestly given he could be arrested and imprisoned and women have reacted to his looks on a few cards esp grassland romance), the evidence that they are involved is piled so high that she should've been dragged into interrogation already.
I’ve said it before and I’ll scream it over and over
Sylus 100% has some sort of business connection with the Association. In addition to everything said here, he is WAY too casual about picking her up literally in front of the building and doesn’t give a shit who sees.
Content: reader is described as liking heavier music (ranging from rock to metal), fluff, canon-typical angst
a/n: this is dedicated to all my fellow lads players who love darker music and wonder if caleb would be into it
"Hey, pip-squeak," Caleb yells over the frenetic pounding of drums.
He takes another step into your room, trying again to get your attention. His raised voice barely rises over the lead singer's fry scream, but thankfully, you turn the knob on your speakers and plunge your bedroom back into blessed silence.
It's an effort not to grimace. His brain feels like it's about to leak out his ears, and there's an incessant ringing that just won't go away even after you've given him silence.
"I'm tryin' to finish my homework," he scolds, head throbbing too hard to stop the bite in his voice before he notices it.
Strike one.
"You know I'm in high school now. I can't afford to get bad grades."
Strike two. Yeah, of course she knows. Are you really mansplaining this to her right now? Abort mission, abort!
He should just leave it at that. But his mind replays that horrendous sound that sliced through his train of thought and ruined his laser focus in the room across from yours.
How can you stand to listen to this noise?
Somewhere between thinking it and speaking to you like a disappointed parent, his wires get crossed—and he stupidly asks that one forbidden question aloud.
Strike three.
After that colossal fuck-up, he spends a week trying every trick in the book to earn your forgiveness. At first, you don't budge. And he can't blame you.
You're both hormonal teens, navigating what feels like a world too big for the both of you. Sometimes, it's the little things—like being told your favorite music is noise—that feel like life-ending ordeals.
So he sits at his desk for hours, researching the music you love. He never wants to see that look on your face again, and he certainly doesn't want to be the cause of it.
It's bad enough people already treat you like some kind of weirdo. No matter how much Caleb might scare the living daylights out of anyone who tries to bully you, he’d done the one unthinkable thing and became your bully by insulting your taste.
He doesn't need to understand it, he knows that. But he wants to. He's desperate to know which bands are your favorite, why you like them, what draws you to this genre when you're so quiet compared to the heavy music you adore.
After countless opened tabs, half-listened playlists, and hours spent scouring the internet for the perfect gift that says I'm so, so sorry, Caleb finally rests his bleary eyes and ringing ears.
Tomorrow morning, you'll wake up to a new Linkon Park CD slid under your door—and another of his forgiveness coupons to add to your collection.
"Hm, nah, this is death metal," you explain with a thoughtful pout.
Caleb chuckles at that cute look of concentration on your face. By now, he already knows you're more drawn to other subgenres like prog or nu-metal. Just the fact that he even knows the differences would be enough to make younger him gasp in awe.
Admittedly, he still prefers his own quieter, more relaxed music. But his time at the DAA has taught him to overcome more than just the overstimulation of your Dotify playlists.
That’s why he was excited to bring you to the hottest record store just outside of Linkon. The traffic was well worth seeing your beaming smile now. You rifle through the rock and metal sections of their collection, and Caleb stands beside you, helping you search for your favorites pressed into timeless vinyl.
"Hey, isn't this that band you love?" He nudges one record sleeve toward you. "Uh, Slumber Tribute, right?"
Even without glancing at the name on the spine, he already knows it’s that one album you adore just from seeing the cover art. Pride bubbles in his chest when you gasp happily and grab the record from him.
An excited squeal leaves your lips, and Caleb’s heart hammers at the sight of your eyes lighting up with joy.
"Oh my gosh, yes," you exclaim, then glance around conspiratorially. "Although the metal snobs might argue that they shouldn’t even be in this section."
You giggle at your little inside joke. Caleb pretends to understand it, but his laugh is genuine when he sees how animated you get talking about this band.
The rest of the trip is spent browsing through other records, thumbing through various bands he’s learning about now—like Swedish Ghouls, HangmansKnot, Dark Sabbath, and 23 Centimeter Nails. Stuff you say might be easier for him to dip his toe into if he wants to listen to more of your music.
For now, he takes your word for it and prays he’ll have the mental fortitude to hear your songs on repeat for the rest of his visit.
The colonel of the Farspace Fleet doesn’t smile.
Except when he’s alone, earbuds hastily shoved in his ears to erase the sound of the day’s droning orders, roaring engines, and his own agonized screams echoing through glass chambers and dark testing rooms.
One would think after all the stress of being a colonel, he wouldn’t want more loudness in his free time. They’d be wrong.
A couple of years ago, around the time you started collecting records, he made copies of your favorite playlists and saved them in the cloud. He’s glad he did, because the explosion took everything from him.
No dog tag to kiss before each mission. No shared photo albums with your smiling face to look at when he feels lonely. Nothing to cherish and keep when he struggles to remember why he's putting himself through this torment in the first place.
All he has are those carefully crafted playlists.
Caleb mourns more than just the time he’s lost with you over the past year. He wishes he could go back to when he was a teen, close his eyes, and really listen to your music.
He wishes he could have understood the depth of emotion, the call to rebel and be free, the ache of something raw yet alive—and the release of frustration so pent up it burns in his throat along with the wails of guitar.
The first time he listened to your playlists after Ever’s hands had closed around him, he cried. He sobbed all through the night, until he woke from a restless slumber with a dull throb in his head. But it wasn’t from the music this time.
He couldn’t remember why there were dried tear tracks on his face. Or why faint music played from fallen earbuds.
It took him two days just to recall the name of the person who had shown him those songs he’d woken up to.
Now, he listens to your favorite music nearly every day. When he preps for takeoff, he softly hums the notes of an electric guitar from that song you used to play on repeat in your second year of high school.
When he can’t fall asleep in his barren home, he plays the music through his phone’s speakers to drown out the irritating silence. Sometimes, he even sings along, daring himself to be loud and boisterous—to feel like himself again, instead of just a husk of who he used to be.
In those moments, he finds himself smiling. He wonders if you’re listening to the same songs right now, miles below in Linkon. Maybe you’re singing with him.
"No way! Are these real? You’re not playing a prank on me, right?"
Caleb grins at how you turn into a younger version of yourself so easily. All he has to do is shell out some money for front-row tickets to one of your favorite new bands, and now your eyes are shining like he’s personally handed you the moon.
"They’re real," he replies with a chuckle. "One for you, and one for me."
He watches realization slowly dawn on your face, and he holds back a snicker at the mental gymnastics you’re clearly doing.
"What’s wrong?" he asks with a smirk. "You still like this band, riiight?"
"Of course I do," you cut in, not wanting to give up such a generous gift. "I really want to go. But are you sure you’re alright tagging along? It’s going to be really loud."
He’s known this day would come ever since you fell back into his orbit. He hasn’t told you yet how your music kept him sane and alive all this time. Maybe it’s better if he just shows you.
That night, Caleb is the one teaching you a few things about the latest bands in the metal scene.
You listen intently, a gorgeous, content smile on your face while his phone plays the song he’s been waiting to share with you. He found it a few days ago and latched on quick, immediately thinking he’d struck gold by finding a track that felt like it was made for you. And he was right.
Your eyes close as you nod along to the complex guitar riffs and soaring melodies, broken up by the nastiest growls from the lead vocalist. Your nods turn to headbangs, eyes peeking open to see if Caleb will poke fun at you.
But he wouldn’t dare now. Not anymore. Not after finally coming to terms with what makes this music so special.
If you want to listen to anthems for the outcasts, then you'll be outcasts together. Like two lost planets orbiting each other in a universe of your own making, with the shared backing track of your choosing. Just the way he likes it.
You’ve always known Sylus likes to spoil you. It’s a surprise to literally no one. It, however, doesn’t change the fact that you are used to fending for yourself.
Sylus has basically accepted that you will insist on paying for yourself as much as you can, much to his displeasure. He takes what he can get when you occasionally forget your wallet (he didn’t hide it you can’t prove it) or actually let him pay (he pouts until you give in).
You always say you don’t want him to feel like you are just using him. And no amount of assurance that he’s more than okay with that, in fact he wants that, will change your mind.
Until one day you are out shopping. Maybe you are out with Tara or out by yourself. But you once again mysteriously are missing your wallet, except for his card that has been suspiciously tucked in the pocket of your bag.
In that moment you decided to give in. But mostly out of spite. He could deny every other time but there was no doubt he’d taken your wallet and switched it with his card.
So you decide to make a point. You buy anything. You even text the twins to come help you with the bags because you can no longer carry everything.
You don’t look at how much you spend. You know it’s a lot though.
You get back to the base and expect the smug smirk. Which he probably did have. A few hours ago anyway.
But the second you walk in he is jumping you like a man starved. He’d hoped you’d use the card sure, but a full spree? He felt nearly delirious watching the charges stack further and further.
Anyway you don’t get much sleep that night.
You also use his card more often. He reacts the same way every time.
Even before you and Sylus end up in a relationship you find yourself spending a lot of time with him.
Sylus is his typical self and you quickly get comfortable with him. Which is it’s own share of issue as this means you find yourself sassing him and being comfortably a bit of a brat.
Sylus loves it of course, but he also can’t tell if you really are pissed at him or dislike him sometimes. But you keep coming back so clearly it’s not all bad?
Fast forward to months of this and you are completely baffling this man cause one second you are yelling at him and the next you are joking around with him.
It throws him even more when you start initiating touch. Like he’s used to him putting a hand on your waist in public, the occasional brush when you are hanging out in the base.
But now he’s noticing how comfortable you actually are. And considering how he introduced himself it sends him reeling.
He starts to notice how even when you yell at him, you’re closer than most would ever dare.
You never hesitate to grab him and pull him to do whatever you have suddenly desired to do.
You fall asleep on his couch frequently after late nights (he’s tried to tell you that you don’t need to push yourself to stay up. Your responding glare just makes him smile)
Even something as simple as his office and kitchen - you are comfortable digging through things to find what you need. Knowing he doesn’t mind and rather enjoys you in his space.
The first time he wins you a plushy you’d been struggling to get, he expects your excitement. He however doesn’t expect to suddenly have his arms full of you as you excitedly squeal and thank him.
You don’t notice the way he freezes for a moment. But you notice the way it feels as if the tension just drains out of him.
He’s far less shy about asking to play if this is the reaction he gets.
Anyway I love the idea of Sylus being confused pre-relationship cause he can’t tell if ur actually picking fights with him, or just enjoying being able to be a brat to the fullest extent (cause he 100% encourages it). And then him happily and confidently confirming the later when he sees you smile at him in the same way he remembers from his memories.
