aww i love how u write sylus! you write him so soft and domestic but still so *sylus* if that makes sense hahahsbakdnfb ( ◜‿◝ )♡
if ur requests are open can i req one with sylus and a reader who start to slowly crave headpats from him? i feel like he would give the best headpats ngl,, ty in advanced if you do~
Head Pats
Sylus X Reader
Summary: You want head pats from Sylus, but you can't bring yourself to ask him out loud. Safe to say though, Sylus likes granting the desires of your heart.
Word Count: 2050
Note: This was NOT meant to be this long, but the more I wrote, the more I become obsessed with this idea. So yah, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the adorable request!
Also, consensual aether core usage (by Sylus) (don't know how else to put that lol)
---
There are quite a few things you like about Sylus.
Of course he’s handsome. You would have to be blind to not see that. Admitting it is another thing though, because the man’s ego is already insufferable at times (and you definitely will never admit how attractive that is in and of itself). But every so often, you catch yourself staring at his face, the sharpness of his jaw, the perfect curve of his lips when he smirks, the mesmerizingly morbid color of his eyes. He’s literally gorgeous.
You also love how he takes action. Even if that action is something you disagree with. You’ve come to terms with the different ways you function. You’ll always be tied to the law, the regulations drilled into you while at the Hunter Academy. Yet, whenever Sylus drags you into his schemes, you can’t deny the way your heart races in exhilaration.
Not to mention, it also means he never stops pursuing you. Being in a relationship with him is like a dance, and all you have to do is follow. Sometimes it’s like you’re spinning so fast you can’t focus on a single thing around you, but you know he’ll never let you fall. And sometimes it’s slow, just the two of you pressed together, sharing the same breath, the same time.
Though he’s never opposed to you taking the lead for a little while.
You like his mind. His quick wit and sharp tongue. You like riding with him on his motorcycle in the dead of night, far outside the N109 Zone, where it’s easier to see the stars. You even like his god-awful singing voice.
But one of the things you secretly like the most, are his hands. Not in a sexual way, even. You just like how big they are, how, when you compare hands, he can curl the tips of his fingers over yours. The confidence they have when curled around a gun. His callouses from hours training in the gym and work. Their capability to take life when he needs to.
Yet, they make you feel undeniably safe. Comforted when they rub your back whenever you “force” him to cuddle with you. Cherished when he cups your jaw, his touch impossibly gentle despite their ability to cause so much violence.
There’s only one thing he hasn’t done, and the more you think about it, the more you desperately want him to.
Head pats.
It started when you were watching a movie, and the male love interest patted his partner’s head, all the while calling her cute and teasing her. It was like a curse. Your mind immediately conjured an image of the two of you in their place, and you wondered what it would be like to have Sylus gently pat your head while teasing you, and that’s all it took to send you reeling.
At the time, Sylus had asked why you were suddenly so red, but you’d played it off as getting a little warm. Which worked, though he definitely gave you that look, the one that says he doesn’t completely believe you. But you weren’t going to out yourself like that!
It’s ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! You almost feel like it would be less embarrassing if it were something inappropriate. This feels somehow weirder. Isn’t it? Maybe it’s not. Maybe you’re just overthinking it all…No, maybe the weird thing is just how fixated your mind is on it. And how it pops up every time you’re near him.
Like today.
You and Sylus are in his kitchen. You’re sitting at the table, watching him as he idles around the counter, preparing dinner. The chef had a family emergency, leaving the two of you to prepare your own meal. Which you were helping with, until Sylus teased you about your knife skills and banned you from the kitchen.
Cutting vegetables is not as easy as cutting up a wanderer. Realistically, you were closer to cutting off the tips of your fingers instead.
So now you’re just watching. Sylus works, efficient and graceful, his brow furrowed ever so slightly in concentration. You cross your arms over the back of the chair, propping your chin on them as your eyes follow his deft movements. He really is good at everything. His hands move as if it’s second nature, handling the knife confidently, without an ounce of hesitation.
They’re always so sure. Unshakable. Just like him. If only-
“If you keep staring at me like that, sweetie, I might have to consider changing occupations.”
You blink, realizing Sylus had caught you, his movements paused in favor of pinning you with an amused look. Heat creeps across your cheeks, turning you a brilliant shade of pink. The corner of his lips curl up.
It, of course, hadn’t escaped him exactly where you were staring. Nor was it the first time he had noticed you staring intently at his hands this week. At first, Sylus thought it was just coincidence. You have the tendency to space out, especially when you’re tired. But then you’d blush adorably and snap your attention somewhere else with that pout on your lips, as if you were thinking about something specific. Something embarrassing.
And Sylus is curious. What could his little hunter be thinking about that could fluster her so badly? It wasn’t like you to get embarrassed, especially with him. So he set his trap. And you’ve wandered right into it.
“It’s almost as if you were thinking of something else,” he hums, waiting for just the right moment.
“I um, no, I just, I like looking at you,” you stumble over your words, sitting up straighter, though your face already feels warmer than the sun. You’ve definitely been caught. “You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you supposed to like it when I look at you?”
His eyes narrow, simmering with an intensity that makes you squirm. You try to hold it, try to keep your gaze steady, but it’s like staring into a fire. The heat is too much for you to take. So you give in, looking at your lap and twisting your fingers in an obvious sign of hesitation.
“Hmm, your lies need work.” The knife makes a soft ‘clink’ as he sets it against the counter. His footsteps are quiet as he walks around the island. You can’t help the way your breath catches when his fingers curl tenderly under your chin, forcing you to look back up at him. Sylus raises a brow, amusement glinting in the depths of his eyes, “You’ll have to be more convincing if you want me to believe you, kitten.”
“I’m not- I’m not lying,” you try again meekly, though you already know you’ve lost the war.
Sylus looks at you for a hard minute and this time, you can’t escape his intense gaze. It’s like he’s trying to unravel you, to strip you down until you’re bare in front of him, so he can read every part of you. And he can. It doesn’t take long for a flicker of recognition to cross his face, and you can feel your heart racing against your ribcage.
A devilish smirk curls his lips.
“You desire something,” he murmurs, voice lilting with curiosity.
You hate how good he is at that. A pout captures your lips, and you wish you could just cover your face. Maybe then this whole conversation would disappear. But you can’t, not with how intently he’s watching you. So you just keep pouting, staying quiet.
Sylus hums, leaning down a little, so his warm breath brushes your lips, “There’s no need to act so embarrassed, kitten. I quite enjoy fulfilling your desires, especially when I’m at the center of them.”
Oh, you wish you could smack and kiss him at the same time right now. How can one man be so insufferable and so absolutely perfect all at once? You wish you could just come out and say it, you know he wouldn’t think anything of it, and then your morbid curiosity would be sated.
But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, the way your heart is racing, the way you can’t. stop. thinking. about his stupid hands, that makes the words lock themselves behind your teeth.
“I just can’t…say it,” you waver.
The air goes quiet for another moment. And then-
“I won’t force you.” Of course. Sylus’ expression softens a fraction, the teasing glint replaced by a serious line between his brows. Because while he enjoys pushing you, seeing how flustered you turn, he’s never one to take it too far. Not with you. “I suppose I can allow you to keep a few secrets, as you’ve so generously allowed me to keep mine.”
You both know it’s a farce of an excuse. Sylus still has his secrets because he’s much better at keeping them. He’s a mystery you don’t think you’ll ever be able to unravel. This is his way of giving you an easy out.
He won’t push this if you really don’t want him to.
And that’s why you want to tell him.
When he slowly starts to pull away, taking your continued silence as confirmation, you reach out, fingers curling around his wrist. Sylus stills. He looks down at your small hand before quirking a brow at you.
You take a deep breath, seizing back some courage, “I just don't want to say it out loud. But if, if you want to find out using other methods, that’d be fine.”
Now both brows shoot up. Intrigue. You shift nervously, but keep your chin high, looking at him expectantly. Sylus’ lips flicker back into a smirk.
“Well, since you’ve given me permission…”
You nod. Sylus’ gaze focuses back on you, not that it ever left, his expression settling back into something serious. His right eye starts to glow softly, and it’s all you can look at. This time it’s not so scary, not so unnerving, when you feel the haze creep across your mind. Maybe it’s gentler because you’re willing, or maybe because your relationship has changed so much, but you almost feel a warmth filling your senses, drawing the answers gently from the depth of your soul and telling him exactly what you’ve been thinking about this past few weeks.
Surprise flickers across Sylus’ face. He stifles a genuine smile, the glow of his eye slowly dimming until they match again.
“All of this, over wanting me to pat your head?”
His voice doesn’t hold any judgment, not that you were truly expecting it to. Still, if you could blush darker, you probably would, despite the relief you feel at finally having it out there.
“I know, it’s silly,” you admit, biting the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know why I couldn’t just say it.”
Sylus shakes his head, “I’ll admit, it wasn’t what I was…expecting, but none of your desires are ‘silly’. Except perhaps your need for enough stuffies to cover our bed.”
“They need a home,” you shoot back immediately, feeling more yourself again.
“Right, right.” Sylus hums. His fingers stroke absentmindedly along your cheek. “How could I forget? It’s out of the goodness in your heart that you spend all my money to bring them home.”
“That’s right,” you huff, “Who better to give them a home than us?”
“Of course. I take it back.” You blink when his hand leaves your face, only to settle gently on your head. You glance up at him, eyes wide. A fuzzy warmth fills your chest when he tenderly fusses your hair, those vermillion eyes glowing with fondness. “I suppose every desire of yours is adorable. So next time-” He leans down, nose touching yours sweetly. “-don’t be so embarrassed to share, sweetie.”
His hand smoothes over your hair one last time before he draws away to go finish dinner. You bite down on your lip, spinning around to collapse against the table, unable to stop the small sound of happiness that escapes you.
Sylus’ laughter fills the room, along with the sound of more cutting.
It seems he has another tool to use to his advantage for showing you his love. He’ll have to make good use of it, if the way you kick your feet through the entirety of dinner tells him anything.
---
This request hit waaaaaaay to close to home for me. Love me some head pats. And I COMPLETELY agree that Sylus would give the best head pats.
You stare him down as you walk slightly behind him, following the attendant guiding you both to a separate suite. “What does it look like? I’m taking you shopping.” He answered, sparing a glance at you before looking back at the attendant. “Yeah, but where and what kind of shop?!” You yell whisper while trying to be quiet enough so that the attendant doesn’t hear you. “And why did we have to go through a private entrance and through heavy security?!” You continued. “You’ll see.” And before you can attempt to pry more information out of him, you’re met with two large golden doors. Once opened, your mouth slowly drops at the sight in front of you. This wasn’t just any shop that he took you too but the one far grander and the one you have been seeing online and talking about non stop lately.
Oh…my god
Dresses of different shapes, sizes, lengths and styles filled the room leaving you breathless. You couldn’t help but blurt it out due to how absolutely stunning everything looked. From the marble statues to the sleek decor, it was everything you would expect out of a luxury brand bridal boutique. You immediately turn to Sylus, eyes asking what you couldn’t say and he just smiled. “I have my connections.” But how? The waiting list is almost ten years long and this boutique is so exclusive that they even declined one of the presidents daughters to come here. So how in the hell did he get an appointment before her?
“Sylus listen, I couldn’t possibly-“
“Couldn’t possibly what? Put on a dress?”
“Well, yes! These dresses cost over-“
“Who said you were paying for it?”
“But Sylus, I wouldn’t be able to pay-“
“Who said I would ever ask you too?”
“But-“
“Go with the nice attendant here and go pick out some dresses to try on. You wouldn’t want to keep her waiting do you, sweetie?”
“B-but Sy-“
“I’m not keen on repeating myself, kitten.”
The look in his eye was serious yet playful. You couldn’t argue with him and you didn’t want the poor attendant to stand there so you caved and went looking around. You couldn’t lie, you didn’t just feel like you were dreaming but felt like a royalty. People there at your beck and call, expensive champagne, your favorite snacks and then to have your pick of dresses that are one of a kind? A queen. You felt like a queen. You’re ushered by your own personal assistant to the changing room, giving you a luxury robe and heels that probably cost more than a luxury car and slip on into the first dress.
Sylus could hear you gasping and giggling and while typing in his phone smiled and then eventually started to want to see you in the dresses you were trying. Hearing how your voice sounded like a kid in a candy store and how enthusiastic the staff started to be made him want in on the festivities. Sure he could have left you to do this by yourself but seeing how passionately you spoke about this place, why not tag along? “Well, will I ever see any of them?” He chirped making everyone suddenly stop laughing and look at you. “Wait, you wanted to see them on me too?” You reply back, shocked that he even wanted to in the first place. “Do you not want me to see you?” Of course you become flustered, not realizing that there would be a possibility but soon asked the others to bring you out so that then Sylus could see what yourself and everyone else was gushing over.
“Close your eyes!”
“Wait…Must I really-“
“Yes!”
He chuckles then places his hands over his eyes.
“Are they covered!?”
“Yes, sweetie they are covered.”
You slowly step out and is carefully guided up to the runway stage. Silk and the gorgeous veil following after you. “Okay, you can open your eyes now..And DONT laugh!” He chuckles, making you pout and almost call off the entire reveal but then slowly uncovers his eyes and finally looks at you. “I’m not going to La-“ he was saying before his eyes set themselves on you. It’s everything you have ever wanted and more in a dress and he could clearly see it on yours and everyone else’s faces. It takes a lot to make him speechless and he doesn’t recall if anyone ever has done so successfully.
He pauses, eyes wider than ever before and The dots start connecting in his mind. Suddenly, vivid visions of you not just walking down the isle and calling him darling husband, honey, and other things but your belly bump come to mind and he immediately realizes that perhaps the lingering gnawing feelings he’s been attempting to keep a bay about you has finally won and while you’re standing there acting so shy and demure, he’s thinking about how he can marry you and get you pregnant in the next twenty-four hours. Is this…no it can’t be-
“Sy..? What do you think?” You do a little spin with the help of the attendants. You could tell by his blown out irises that he was somewhere else in his head. You couldn’t put a finger on it but something was different about him. To you, he looked as though something took his breath away but In that moment, he felt as though he just witnessed something heavenly. Like a goddess presented himself for him and his eyes only and he was just soaking it in. “S-Sy…?” You say shyly while the attendants around you both looked between you too. They wouldn’t say it out loud but the look he’s giving isn’t anything new to them. See, they know that look because only men in absolute love make the look he’s making and you don’t even have a clue. He gulps, suddenly blinking and looking everywhere but at you. He clears his throat, trying to stop the ever growing pace of his heartbeat.
cw: reader is MC from love and deepspace, minor hades and persephone vibes, Canon typical violence, Canon Compliant, No use of Y/N, minor spoilers for Sylus's secret time Midnight Warmth and Lost Oasis, inspired by the Sylus's event story in Adventure Above Clouds
AO3 link: Soft universe
"With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed."
Ever since you resontated with Sylus you have been having weird dreams. Or a story in which you are bound to Sylus again and he becomes clingyier than usual.
You dreamt of red mist encasing you in its warm embrace, licking at your heels, and trailing its ghostly lips along your body. Leaving in its wake skin the shade of sunset and a heart so full it could burst. You dreamt of it traversing the surface of your soul, gathering the embers of your evol and moulding them with its own before huddling into the open void in your chest.
A groan left you as the mist disappeared under your skin. Despite the initial discomfort, you didn’t hate the oddly familiar sensation of being whole.
You took an unsteady step forward. Beneath your feet, you could no longer feel the ground. Above you, the starless sky loomed. You blinked refocusing your eyes, believing they were the issue, not the lack of starlight. But nothing changed.
You heard the caw of a crow. In the darkness, you saw its ruby eyes watching you, piercing through your skin, and staring straight into your soul. Your heart thumped, beating faster, harder, growing hotter with every passing second. You keeled over, clutching your chest.
Your power, you heard the mist say. Yours.
You felt the bird's keen eyes as light burst through the cracks between your taut fingers. With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed.
The dream dissipated and your eyes fluttered open to see fire dancing in turbulent strokes in the fireplace, charring the wood that fuelled it. In the distance you heard the quiet murmuring of a film on the flat screen. You slapped your lips tiredly, rubbing your cheek against the warm, unusually hard cushion you clung to.
“This movie is boring. You should go back to sleep,” Sylus said, brushing your cheek gently. The tender touch was scolding on your skin.
You nuzzled your head further into the hard cushion. A deep chuckle shook through it.
“What are you thinking about, kitten?” Sylus asked.
His heart raced against your ear, burning through its beats as though it were chasing death. It must have been night, you reckoned. His heart was only ever this fast in the dark.
“Sylus…” you whispered groggily. Your focus locked on the familiar necklace resting on his chest—an empty aether core? A Protocore? A simple crystal? You yawned, blinking once, twice…three times. Wait Sylus!
You shot up, attempting to pull away. But finding your movement restricted by an inhumane force, you fell back on top of him.
“Surprise. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He lifted his arm and yours lifted too revealing the glowing crimson evol link cuffing you to the renowned Onychinus leader. “Were you thinking of getting rid of me again?”
The amused smirk on his lips told you he wasn’t angry, but rather entertained.
“No,” you responded.
“Being quick to respond only confirms your guilt, sweetie.”
You tugged your arm, pulling his too.
He grunted quietly. “Your defiance is getting old.”
“Maybe if you stopped putting me in awkward situations it wouldn’t,” you responded.
He sighed and squinted at you.
“What? Nothing to say for yourself? ” you teased.
“Silence is also an answer.” He lowered his head closer to yours. “And I like to think that actions speak louder than words.”
Sylus was a gorgeous man; breathtaking to say the least. Just being close to him made your heart betray you in ways you hated. You let out a gasp. “Sy—,”
His phone buzzing on the coffee table interrupted you. He grabbed his phone and put it on silent.
“What time is it?” you asked. You tried to peer at the screen’s reflection in Sylus’s frameless glasses but failed.
He turned his screen to you. “Nearly two am.”
“Why are you here? Don’t you have some gang to bully? Or some notorious deals to strike?” you asked. It had been a coincidence, your bumping into each other whilst you were taking a three day vacation from Linkon in one of the outskirt islands. A pure innocent coincidence—according to Sylus. You struggled to believe that, however, as it wasn’t the first time Sylus had conveniently appeared at the same place as you. Seemingly with nothing to do but be mysterious and strange and there.
He shook his head. “Have you forgotten?”
You had forgotten but only because of your dream. It wasn’t every day you had a nightmare so vivid that it tore you out of your sleep. It hadn’t always been every day. Only since you made the mistake of resonating with this unlikely ally.
“You got injured snowboarding with your colleagues. And I happened to be returning back to the resort when they saw me and pawned you off. Apparently they wanted to do another few rounds with the people they met.”
You frowned. You only vaguely remembered the incident. More so the tree that you had wiped out against. Everything else was a blur. You knew sylus had no reason to lie, so you chose to believe him. It wasn’t like Sylus and your colleagues didn’t know each other to some degree. Sharing a karaoke booth with Sylus was enough time for anyone to develop a trauma bond. It was like war…without the bloodshed. “Doesn't explain where they are now.”
“I used your phone to tell them I’d watch you for the night—ease their minds.”
“How valiant of you,” you ad-libbed.
“I did try to leave after making sure your condition wasn’t critical but you asked me to stay,” Sylus said. “Then you pulled me onto this couch with you and this happened.” He gestured to the link.
You looked away flustered. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“You’re so air-headed, kitten,” Sylus tutted.
The depth of his voice rattled you; made your skin feverish and a sudden flush spread through you. You noted your sudden reaction to his voice as an after effect of your accident. You straightened hoping fixing your posture would disperse the settling arousal. And in some pseudoscientific way, it did.
Mephisto squaking in the corner snapped your mind back to the crow in your dream. “Sylus, can I ask you a question?” you asked. You were being abstract but with this burning question fresh on your mind you didn't care.
“You just did.”
You rolled your eyes but asked anyway: “Do crows have dreams?”
“Is that seriously what you are asking me right now?” he responded.
“I’m being serious.” Your voice remained steady as your head lifted high. “Does Mephisto dream?” you asked motioning with your eyes to the mechanical bird.
Sylus’s gaze followed.
Mephisto lifted his wings in response.
“Whether Mephisto does or doesn’t dream is beyond me. He is a mechanical bird after all. Dreaming isn’t something I programmed into him. If he were to dream, I suppose it would be recounts of recorded data or lines of code,” Sylus said.
Mephisto cawed again.
Sylus looked back at you. “Does that answer your question?”
You shook your head.
He sighed and cocked his head. He didn’t appear too surprised by your lack of satisfaction, more so by your inability to believe hard fact. “Then enlighten me, do you believe doves dream?”
Remembering the dove you had saved a few months back, you nodded. “Yes.”
“So, why would crows be any different?”
“Okay, sorry for not thinking things all the way through, Mr philosophical,” you muttered.
He chuckled. “I was just answering your question, sweetie.”
You yawned.
“You should get back to sleep,” Sylus whispered. “It’s still late for you. And I’d like to be free sometime soon.”
“I can’t,” you said.
His phone buzzed in his hand taking his attention. “Nightmare?”
“Nightmare,” you agreed.
He hummed listlessly as he scrolled through his phone, typing and swiping. “Am I allowed to ask what it was about?”
“It’s nothing really.”
Sighing, Sylus placed down his phone. “You still should rest... Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”
“Oh no, please God no. I’d rather have Mephisto sing to me.” You physically cringed.
Mephisto squawked in protest.
Sylus ignored your dread. “Do you want me to tell you a story then?”
“No.”
He glanced at you. “I thought you quite enjoyed the last one?”
“I don’t know what Kieran and Luke told you a story is, but I think you have it misconstrued.” You wanted to cross your arms but remembered the link binding your arm to his.
“Oh?” He quipped. “It has a beginning, middle, and an end. Perhaps also a little filler to transition from plot point to plot point. That’s a story, sweetie.”
“And the demonstration?” you asked.
“Audience participation.”
“I think you'll find that serves the opposite effect of telling someone a bedtime story.” You recalled the bites that had stained your skin pinks and purples the day after his ‘story.’ Which, much to his enjoyment, resulted in you having to extend your trip as there was no way you could go back to work in that state. Not unless you lied. And as good as you were, you knew no one would believe you had been attacked by a Wanderer.
Not Tara, who was obsessed with the idea of you and Sylus being more than friends ever since she met him. Nor Nero in Data Analysis because he was a bit of a freak when it came to anything concerning Wanderers. So you imagined a lie of that sort wouldn’t slip past him. And if it somehow did, you didn’t want to end up in a heated conversation about the potential mating rituals of Wanderers. Nero’s fascination was weird enough as it was without going anywhere near that topic.
“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” Sylus said.
You had… eventually. And unfortunately, when you had fallen asleep—exhausted from his playful bites, you’d slept the most soundly you had in years. Right in the arms of this criminal. You stomach churned at the memory. A hunter and a wanted mob boss…how unprofessional. “Because you were relentless.”
“Don’t act so innocent. You were actively enjoying our little roleplay. And as I recall you were the one who said I looked like a vampire.”
The tips of your ears burned. You stared up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze.
The empty ceiling stared back at you like a starless night; an endless void…a pit of nothing.
Your wrist tingled with the heat of the link binding you to Sylus. You felt a strange familiarity spreading up your arm. One that followed you out of your dreams. “Sylus…”
“What is it?”
“Do you dream?” you whispered, staring into the darkness. You could hear his quiet contemplation from beside you.
“Not often,” he responded.
“Really?”
“You sound so surprised…” Sylus said. “Dreams aren’t for those without hearts, sweetie.”
“You keep saying that,” you said.
“I keep saying—”
You could feel his stare. Slowly turning your head, you looked at him. “That you have no heart. I don’t believe it. Someone without a heart wouldn’t take care of me when I hit my head and listen to me when I ask them to stay.” You paused. “Okay...hypothetically, what do you dream about?”
He slipped his free arm under your shoulder and pulled you back toward his chest. “Why are you suddenly so curious about my dreams? Is it something to do with this nightmare?”
“No, I just—” you lied. The words fell out of your mouth like vomit.
He chuckled. “I don’t care for dreams because everything I could want I can get. And nightmares—well, you already know that there isn’t much in this universe scarier than me.”
“Must be nice to have the means to buy whatever you want.”
“You clearly don’t know me if you assume everything I want can be bought.”
“Can’t it?” You searched his gaze for some kind of answer, as if by searching those red pools you might see his desire. But instead, it stared right back at you; soft, unwavering, beckoning.
Come to me.
You looked away.
“No,” he said.
You dreamt of laying on the top of a hill dressed in a gown of white silk. You didn’t know how you arrived here, or why you were dressed in such finery. Flowers surrounded you, red-stained daisies and carnations, swaying in the gentle night breeze. You plucked one and held it up to your nose. It smelt of fresh pollen and mint. You hummed in approval, not questioning the oddity, and picked another, and another, till in your arms you held a bundle of red flowers.
You smiled warmly at your beautiful collection. A bundle of love and devotion, picked by you—for you. You decided then that you liked this place. This starless night haven of endless flowers. And thought, if this dream was the place you would be stuck forever then eternity didn’t sound too bad.
Just as the thought passed through your mind something spawned in the bundle. A pomegranate. You’d never seen one spawn from flowers. You didn’t know one could do so. It was so beautiful, however, that you didn’t think to question it.
At the sight, your stomach rumbled. You weren’t hungry until then. Or rather you hadn’t noticed you were hungry until the opportunity to eat arrived. It was like this place had read into your soul and presented you with your desire before you could even desire it. Was this paradise or a paradise lost?
Dropping the flowers, you lifted the pomegranate. With a twist, the ripe fruit split in half in your hand. You’d never seen a pomegranate so easy to split; usually, you would need a knife.
The juice stained your white dress in droplets of blood-like splotches. It dribbled down your hand leaving a sticky trail. You licked the mess off your skin before you picked up some of the fallen seeds—three to be exact—and ate them. They were sweet in your mouth.
Ravenous, you ate another, and then one more. And after that one more.
You only ate six. You knew because, at that moment, a red shackle appeared on your wrist and a hellish scream tore through the air. Your head shot up in wonder, like a prey alarmed by the snap of a twig. In the distance, a volcanic beam of light erupted into the sky. You recognized it by the familiar ache that resonated through you, but you didn’t know why. You shielded your eyes as you watched crimson stars fill the empty sky, covering the expanse in colourful noise, and leaving in its wake a hole in space and time.
Forgetting your flowers and pomegranates, you wiped your hands on your stained white silk dress. You reached up with a single hand toward the tunnel. You didn’t know why you did it. You didn’t understand what this feeling was that you were chasing. You only knew that you longed for it. You needed it like you needed air to breathe and eyes to see. Perhaps this was love?
Crimson shone between the gaps of your fingers, blinding you of anything but the tunnel. It gaped and shrivelled in intervals as if it were alive.
Come to me, said a voice from the tunnel.
Its coo guided you to your feet. But even on the tips of your toes, you were no closer to the heavens than you were before.
Come to me, it said again. It beckoned to you… calling your name. Its voice was clearer, familiar.
You knew that you knew it.
You reached further. Biting the inside of your cheek, your strain began to show on your face. If you reached anymore you were going to fall. But you were so desperate, you didn’t even care. You needed this—needed it.
The hole stretched and a mangled inhuman hand pushed through. Its long-scorched fingers reached out to yours.
Just when your hand was about to touch it, you pulled back. “No,” you said in a moment of hesitation. “I must go home.”
The mangled hand recoiled before shooting forward to grab you.
You evaded it, losing your footing.
Come, it said again. Come to me.
Terror claimed you. It burnt the sky around you from night-to-day and scorched the flowers beneath your bare feet.
Stay with me.
The earth shook.
Losing your footing, you rolled down the hill, tumbling in cartwheels through the bleeding flowers. Daises and carnations filled your mouth. Red paint covered your dyed your dress. You sealed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if it was the earth shaking or just you.
You wished the dream away. You prayed for the familiar darkness. You prayed for ignorance—for the you you lost to knowledge. But most of all, you prayed for the cold.
You awoke in a king-sized bed covered in dark silk sheets. Sylus’ bed, you thought. He must have you when it had gotten closer to his time for bed. But Sylus was nowhere to be seen.
You sat up and looked around. The night light beside the bed lit the room showcasing the extravagant dark furniture. The sound of water running through the foggy glass doors to the en-suite bathroom, and the off-key hummed rendition of some jazz he had on loop informed you of Sylus’ location.
“He’s showering,” you whispered to yourself.
Mephisto cawed from where he was perched.
When you stared at him, he lifted his wings and cawed again.
“I don’t speak crow,” you responded.
“And he doesn’t speak human,” Sylus said, closing the door to the bathroom. Steam pulsed off his wet body as he emerged in only a fluffy white towel.
You gulped, closing your legs under the covers. Not that it would do anything for the feelings that arose from the sight of him. Not even disgust to repel your natural desire for someone so physically alluring.
“I thought you were showering,” you said tightly.
Sylus scoffed. “And you were asleep. I guess we were both wrong, kitten.”
You frowned.
Sylus approached the dresser and lifted the hairdryer. Slicking back his hair, he began to dry it with the dryer.
You shuffled to the edge of the bed and held out your hand for the hairdryer. “Let me do that.”
Catching your reflection in the mirror, he turned to you. “What? You want to do this for me?” he asked, switching off the hairdryer. His damp hair fell onto his forehead.
You flicked your hand impatiently. Your eyes actively avoided falling below his collarbones. “I’m trying to be nice… since you didn’t wake me when the link untangled and all. Thank you for that by the way. And sorry I took up your entire night.”
His brows furrowed. “You’re the only person I’d excuse taking up my time. Besides, that’s just common decency, sweetie.”
You blushed and gestured again for the hairdryer. You couldn’t fall for his pretty words. You weren’t that stupid. Halting your thoughts, you cleared your throat and corrected your posture. “Still—I feel like I owe you and this will make us even.”
“Okay, deal.”
You half expected him to counter your statement and ask for more. You wouldn’t have faulted him if he had. You knew what you were suggesting wasn’t an even repayment for the time he lost, but for a man who had everything this was the only thing you could do on the fly.
His tall frame casted a shadow over you as he approached; all damp skin and wet hair. He handed you the wireless hairdryer. And then sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed, he sighed. “I didn’t know all I needed to do to get you to be nice to me was let you sleep.”
You rolled your eyes and shuffled back a little after feeling the heat of his wet body on the inside of your thighs. You tried to keep a small amount of distance not wanting to accidentally touch him. You leaned forward and cursed inaudibly at the difficult angle.
“I don’t know what hair you’re going to be drying from back there,” he cooed. Wrapping his hands around your ankles, he pulled you closer to him.
“Hey!” You yelped, sliding forward till you inner thighs pressed against his wet shoulders.
“That’s better,” he said, letting go.
“You’re crude.”
“I was just making your job easier, kitten,” he purred.
You nudged his shoulder with your thigh and turned on the dryer. Your finger ran through his hair as you watched the water dry out and the soft greyish-white return.
Sylus closed his eyes and leaned his head back till you could see his face.
You paused. “You’re not making this easier for me,” you said, peering down at him.
He chuckled deeply. “I can’t help the fact that you have magic hands, I’ve never been so relaxed.” He lifted his arms and rested them atop your knees like armrests. “Have you ever thought of changing careers?”
You snickered. “Are you sure you’re rich? Surely, you’ve had much better treatment than this.”
Sylus laughed with you. The sound called you broke in every way but with words. It reminded you of aged wine and expensive cuff-links, two things you had never associated with a voice until him.
You turned off the dryer and placed it on the bed.
“Why did you stop?” Sylus opened his eyes. He stared up at you from your lap. And for a man so good at being invulnerable, he looked extremely soft.
“Your hair is dry.”
“So it is.” Sylus lifted his head. “Thank you.”
Mephisto cawed loudly and swooped out of the room. Taking Mephisto’s departure as your sign to escape too, you began to shuffle back,.
“Where are you going?” Sylus wrapped his hands around your ankles once again stopping you.
“Mephisto is gone,” you stated as if the answer was obvious.
“And? He’s a bird, it’s not good for him to stay in one place. You’re not a bird, are you?”
You could see the hurt in his eyes.
“But it’s morning. I have stuff to do. And you should get some sleep,” you said.
“What stuff?” he asked.
You shrugged. You didn’t have many plans—maybe meet up with your colleagues. Not that they were concered about your whereabouts. Your phone hadn’t rung once.
“Since you don’t know, why don’t you stay? Your flight back to Linkon isn’t for a few days yet.” Sylus suggested, letting go of your ankles.
“Stay?”
He stood from the ground and by some will of the gods his towel stayed on. “Yes, stay…with me. It’ll be just us.” He placed his knee on the bed.
Your spine stiffened as you backed away. “I can’t lay around all day.”
“So, it’s okay that I did? Come on, sweetie, that’s not fair. Stay..” He placed his hands on either side of your head, caging you. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”
You pushed his chest gently—not exerting any real effort. “I dried your hair.” As much as you wanted to leave, you weren’t opposed to being stuck under him. Any sane woman wouldn’t be, especially when he was like this.
He caught your wrists and pinned them to the sheets by either side of your head. “Come on, kitten, we both know that was wasn’t an even deal.”
“What if Tara comes looking for me? Or the rest of my colleagues?” you spluttered.
“They know you’re with me. They won’t disturb,” he purred.
You pursed your lips. You knew he was right. That didn’t mean you wouldn't stop trying. “What about Mephisto? He might—“
“No one is going to disturb us, sweetie,” Sylus interrupted. “Just say you’ll stay. You were restless the entire night.”
“And you’re the one who is restless now,” you retaliated. In the settled silence, you could almost hear the thump of his heart. “Besides, I’m not tired.”
“We can fix that. Come on, sleep with me.”
You gave him an unimpressed side-eye.
“What if I said I wanted to hear a story? Would you tell me one?” he asked. He let go of one of your hands and trailed his fingers down the side of your face. Tucking them under your jaw, he guided you to look at him. His darkened gaze fell between your eyes and lips, dancing caution. Like you were a deer caught in headlights ready to disappear with any sudden movement.
“Why are you suddenly being so clingy?” you asked.
He hummed. “Am I?”
You nodded. “And you’re being too nice.”
“Are you saying I’m crass, miss?”
“Yes,” you breathed.
His eyes narrowed playfully. “Let’s say for your sake that I’ve learnt not to scare an easily startled kitten.”
“How kind…”
With his fingers still under your chin, he guided your head off the sheets, bringing you closer to him. “So, what do you say. It is a simple yes or no…sweetie?” He peered at you through thick eyelashes.
“Why should I?”
“I can hear your heart beating in sync with mine,” he said, bringing you closer.
“You’ve got me pinned to your bed—of course my heart is racing.”
“I can see the desire to stay in your eyes.” He brought you closer.
You scanned his face, barely millimetres away. “Still not good enough,” you said.
He let out a low scoff, looking directly into your eyes. “Because I need you,” he whispered against your lips.
And then he kissed you.
When you closed your eyes, you saw an expanse of dark teal grass dusted with withered, red-stained daisies and carnations. You looked around, first at the red silk dress draped over your body, and then at the tail of mangled dark scales trapping you. Beside you rested the head of the dragon-like creature, protecting you in its slumber. Your eyes traced its surface, taking in its shape and appearance—the long forked tail, wanderer-like body, and large horns. It was like nothing you’d seen before. And yet, you weren’t afraid of it.
You followed its scales with your hand until you reached its face. It stirred beneath your touch. Its deep, unconscious breaths halted as you stared into the giant red eye of the creature. Its pupil slit as it watched you, unmoving, as if waiting for your reaction—the screaming and shouting.
You dropped your hand. You hadn’t meant to wake the beast.
A low grumble reverberated through the creature’s body, one of disapproval.
You crawled slowly toward its face, watching its reaction for any signs to stop.
It stared at you, unblinking.
“Hello there,” you said, stopping beside its high cheekbone and deep crimson eye.
It didn’t respond, continuing to silently observe you.
“Do you have a name?” you asked.
Silence.
A sharp squawk made you look up as a crow flew in circles over the two of you. In the star-sprinkled sky, the crow was a black shadow with beady red eyes passing in flashes. Its speed caused feathers to flutter off its body and cascade down to the ground.
You lifted your hand and watched as a single dark feather landed on your palm. A smile curved on your lips as you admired the large feather, bigger than any crow’s feather you’d seen before—about half the length of your arm. You lifted the feather to the creature.
“For you,” you said to the creature, unsure of whether it could understand you or not. You knew you should have been afraid of the monster. You knew you should have run when you had the chance. But something about it seemed defenseless—tired.
It glanced down, motioning for you to place the feather on the ground.
You put it close to the creature’s jaw. “Where did you come from?”
It didn’t respond.
“What is this place?”
The creature moved its head closer to you, offering its snout.
You placed your hand on the creature’s face. “I suppose you don’t speak human,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a wound oozing thick blood. Your hand moved to it, blocking the hole in its chest.
At the added pressure, the creature grumbled. Slowly, its eyes closed as if to sleep—or perhaps even to die.
“Did you get this whilst protecting me?” you asked. You knew the creature needed healing, or some kind of regeneration. But its core was shattered. Under your fingers, you could only sense how weak it had gotten. It was not strong enough to keep the creature alive, let alone save it.
The creature blinked slowly.
You took that as a yes. “You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t even know me.”
It blinked again, slower this time as you felt its soul slipping from its body.
“I can help you,” you said.
You could help it. It was an ability you had, a one-time bonus that came with having your resonance evol. And you would use it—even if it cost you your power. Even if it bound you to this creature for eternity.
The creature made a sound of disapproval. And with its little strength, it moved away.
You froze so as not to anger it further. Movement was only making the creature’s wound worse.
“I promise I won’t hurt you. Think of it as repayment—common decency, if you will.” You waited for it to move again. When it didn’t, you approached it, lifting your hand. “May I?”
The creature didn’t respond, its breaths deepening.
“Thank you,” you smiled, placing your hand over the wound again. The tips of your fingers glowed as white mist gathered the embers of his evol and molded them with your own before sealing itself in the hole in his chest.
“Don’t close your eyes,” you said, mostly to yourself. “Stay with me.”
Sylus’s hand under your chin brought you back to reality as it moved to rest on the base of your throat, over your chest bone. His other hand, still holding your other wrist, unravelled. Trailing up to your palm, his fingers caressed the smooth skin before he intertwined your fingers with his. He didn’t exert any force. No, he was careful. His body wishing, pleading, begging with yours for something beyond your awareness. Something only your soul could answer.
You could hear it promising you everything…the world, the universe. At the small price of…you. You knew he meant it. You knew this feeling. You’d felt it in your dreams. Or were they visions? Or perhaps memories from a different you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered the mangled inhuman creature and the sweet, damning taste of pomegranate seeds. And you wondered if this was how you would lose your soul—without ever being told it was on the market.
You broke the kiss. Instantly, you missed the minty taste of his lips.
“Was I too rough?” Sylus asked. Dishevelled. Searching.
You had never seen him so disgruntled. Not since he was told you were disgusted by him after you’d met.
You shook your head.
“So, it’s something else then?” Sylus began to pull away. His hand slipped from yours, taking the connection with him.
You wanted to be thankful for your freedom…but it was too late, you already resigned yourself to your feelings.
You missed the heat.
You missed him.
Stay with me.
Was this delirium? Or some kind of Stockholm Syndrome? Loving a creature so twisted—so different from you. One who only wore the skin of a prince to lure in and devour the heart of a princess.
“Sylus,” you said. Sitting up, you caught him around his neck before he could get too far away. And with the strength you had left, you pulled him back to you. And kissed him. Silently telling him that you wanted this—you wanted him.
All of him.
And whatever that choice brought with it.
You knew he wasn’t perfect. In other lives maybe you hadn’t chosen to stay—to remain with him and his promises of grandeur amongst the destruction he sought. Maybe this time you’d chosen the path least trekked with the monster whose intent was only ever written about in the annals of history as that of the slain and evil. Ultimately, you didn’t care. You supposed that thought alone was immoral.
Sylus moaned into the kiss. It was quiet, guttural, and just enough to make you want more. You let him guide you back onto the dark silk sheets, your lips moving together all the while.
“I will,” you said between kisses. “I’ll stay.”
He didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any words either of you could have said.
Your voice is so shrill that birds scatter from a tree overhead.
You’ve created quite a spectacle, garnering a few perturbed looks from fellow hunters in the courtyard. Their gazes are judgmental and probing beneath the flowers’ serenity and the sun’s golden hue. But you couldn’t care less. Not with your chest aching like this.
Tara raises a placating hand, squeezing your arm as sweat beads on her temple. She flashes you a tense smile to dispel the rigidness between your shoulders. She knew you wouldn’t take too kindly to the news. Who would?
“I’m sorry! I know it’s last minute, and I know you’ve been talking about this for ages, but—”
You sigh pitifully, slathering the guilt on thick. Tara visibly deflates.
“—I…made other plans for the evening.”
Your bottom lip wobbles, and your eyes glass over like those of a puppy. You try your best to wear Tara down with a look. One that rarely fails you. Ditching you for a guy? Unheard of!
What happened to bros before hoes?
She laughs uncomfortably, fidgeting beneath your pout.
Whoops! Did you say that out loud?
The more petite woman drags you away from prying eyes into the shade, holding fast to her resolve. “I’ll make it up to you,” whispered at eye level, and she clasps your hands in hers, rubbing reassuring arcs into the clutch of your hands. “Promise.”
You snort inwardly. Like you haven’t heard that a million times before.
Though your heart sinks below sea level, and your stomach churns with disappointment, you nod wordlessly. Tara squeezes your hands once more, offering you a mollified look before abandoning you in the courtyard.
Left alone to nurse your broken heart, you kick an errant pebble, mumbling under your breath.
It seems everyone’s dumped you, favoring themselves over spending time with their favorite co-worker. Initially, they all agreed to attend the Lantern Festival with you tonight, an event that occurs in Linkon every few years.
You’ve seen pictures of it. How beautiful the sky looks, crowded with lanterns that glow like fireflies. Tonight will be your first time witnessing it firsthand. However, one by one, the rain check texts trickled in, and—
Well, Tara was the last person you expected to ditch you. It wasn’t often she got to spend time with her boyfriend, though. You couldn’t fault her—the life of a hunter tended to be lonely. You begrudgingly let it slide just this once.
Exhaling dramatically, you fish your phone from your pocket. Swipe through your contacts in search of someone—anyone—to come with. It isn’t often you have downtime. Your Commander insisted you take the night off.
You pat the two tickets burning a hole in your back pocket. No sense in letting the other go to waste.
You contemplate asking Zayne. He’s usually good company. However, Linkon’s abnormal shift in weather patterns has ushered in a new wave of Wanderers. And, with that shift came an influx of Wanderer attacks, resulting in more casualties. His attendance is out of the question.
Xavier is next up in your mind. Your sleepy little star. He’d be fun to go with. But you haven’t seen him in days. Figure he’s off doing vigilante things, saving children from burning buildings or stealing from the rich in favor of the poor.
Rafayel? Off-limits. He’s out of town setting up some new art exhibits to display his pompous paintings. Besides, you could do without his complaining all night.
You slump in defeat. Is there really no one else? Is this truly the fate you’re resigned to?
You’re thoroughly prepared to throw in the towel when you happen upon your most recent text messages, and a figurative lightbulb flickers overhead.
You hesitantly hover over his name. Butterflies stir in your gut, and you glance around the courtyard as if you’re about to take part in something nefarious. Of course, there is nothing honorable about the alliance you’ve forged with him. Him being Onychinus’ notorious leader, Sylus.
Cue the dramatic piano solo.
He’s practically a goddamn mafia boss, and you’re sure he’ll be busy tonight. Trading weapons with very bad people or contemplating new ways to torture you. You’re convinced a man like him can’t be bothered, especially for something as trivial as a festival in Linkon, of all places.
You snort as you punch the call key with your thumb anyway, your resolve thrown to hell. You half-expect him to forward you to voicemail, the prick. However, you’re startled by his voice bleeding in through the static, and the raspy edge of it makes your head tingle.
“Speak.”
It’s a simple word. A simple utterance that sets your nerves alight.
Swallowing, you clear the phlegm from your throat. Smooth the wrinkles out of your uniform as if he’s standing in front of you, judging. You don an air of nonchalance, ignoring the insistent pound of your heart and your fingers humming with anxiety.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite criminal!”
His laugh is reminiscent of red wine, and it burns your chest. Creeps into your cheeks, and you’re no doubt every shade of flustered now.
“And if it isn’t Linkon’s most prestigious hunter.” Sarcasm. All of it. “To what do I owe the honor of receiving your call?”
“Just…making sure you aren’t causin’ trouble!” You wince, too overzealous for your liking. It’s a lame excuse, but it’s something to keep the ball rolling.
Sylus scoffs, feigning innocence from the other end. “You wound me, kitten. I deal in more than just illicit affairs.”
You roll your eyes, shifting your weight onto one foot. “Sure you do.” You decide to shift gears. “What are you up to, anyway?”
“Are you stalling?” Sylus drawls. Amusement swims below the depths of his voice. He’s always been able to see through your bullshit despite the short time you’ve been fitfully acquainted with him.
The color drains from your face. You gape like a fish out of water. “Wh-what? How do you—”
You scan the area, seeking a familiar thatch of white hair. Assume Onychinus’ leader is somewhere observing you from the shadows, plotting your downfall. Your gaze settles on a powerline stretched overhead, and—there it is. There’s an unmistakable gleam of crimson nestled beneath tufts of iridescent feathers.
“Say hi to Mephisto for me, sweetie.”
Puffing out your cheeks, you spin away from the crow’s invasive gaze. Figures he’d be keeping tabs on you when you’re most vulnerable. Of course, would he be Sylus if he didn’t?
“Know what? Never mind,” you huff, sounding nothing short of wounded. “Don’t even know why I called you, anyway—”
“Would it have something to do with you wanting to ask me out tonight?”
Words cork in your throat, your mouth growing dry. The eavesdropping son of a—
“Because if you are calling to request my presence at tonight’s Lantern Festival, I would happily accept your invite, Ms. Hunter.”
“Sure, yeah!” you blurt out, ignoring how your nerves explode like solar flares beneath your skin. Might as well get this over with. “I would love to hang out with you tonight, Syl! Glad you asked! Can’t wait!” You end your sentence with a nervous titter, sure you’ve already made enough of an ass of yourself. No need to prolong your embarrassment.
Sylus chuckles again, resigned. “Then it’s settled. I’ll see you tonight, Ms. Hunter.”
The line clicks with finality.
Your body’s a prickling mess as you shove your phone back into your pocket, hiding behind your hands. Your cheeks burn hot, and a smile threatens to break out on your face.
You remember yourself when some hunters meander by, giving you intrigued looks, whispering.
It’s just an outing between friends, you muse, strolling to your motorcycle as the sun seeks refuge behind your back. You throw your leg over the seat, putting on your helmet. The visor fogs as you breathe slow, trying to quell your nerves. Trying to dispel the wild thrumming of your heart in your ribcage, and the relentless twitch of your limbs. You’re shaky as you rev your bike to life, whether with excitement or apprehension, you aren’t sure.
Just friends. Two friends. Friends, friends, friends.
Though, if you are merely that, why, oh why are you so hung up on what to wear tonight as you whizz through the bustling streets of Linkon City towards your apartment?
I really needed this right now lol I’m so glad you send me these because they make my day.
Also FRIENDS MY ASS IMMA SHOW UP AND SHOW OUT FOR SYLUS 👁️👅👁️
they were the shoulders you placed your cheek on. they were the shoulders you soothingly rubbed when he was tense. they were the shoulders you cried on. they were the shoulders that stood tall when he was frustrated and plotting; they were the shoulders that slumped when he was tired. they were the shoulders that were higher up than yours in height. they were the shoulders that you watched move in the low light of the bedroom before his arms came up behind his head and he stretched after a hot shower, a loud yawn ripping through the calm atmosphere. they were the shoulders that were broad and muscular in their definition, one of your favorite parts of him.
more than once he caught you admiring them. your hands would linger by his shoulder blades and your eyes would watch them strain against the stretch of his t-shirt. he wouldn’t ignore the fact that he knew what you were up to, maybe tease you a little. you’re the kitten, so who has your tongue? but sometimes he simply pulled you into the circle of his arms and tucked one of his hands at the center of your back before pressing his head down to kiss your temple.
they were less emphasized in his behind the cut of his jacket thrown over them, but underneath compression tanks, they were huge. they seemed to broaden twice as much, those muscles free from the fabric.
he always stood tall next to you, occasionally moving in behind you if there was someone was following the two of you or it was chilly outside. the expanse of his back and shoulders were enough alone to shield you from the elements of the world that you were no longer in tune with. it all just seemed to be sylus, and sylus’ shoulders, and the way his shoulders looked when he picked up something heavy and sent you a curled smirk, walking past with a playful nod in acknowledgment.
but all in all, you couldn’t love his shoulders without his back; his back without his arms; his arms without his hands; his hands without his fingers; his fingers without his grin; his grin without his eyes; his eyes without his hair; his hair without his voice; his voice without his heart; his heart without his love.
“you’re staring again,” he told you, twisting slightly on the couch so he could get a better look at you on the other. “why don’t you just come over here?"
"i’m reading,” you counter, casting your eyes back down to the bold words of the new title page. “you’ll distract me with your - with your stupid, shoulders."
it was quiet for a moment before sylus was heaving himself upwards and stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck. he picked up the blanket and pillow that were situated on his sofa before moving and lowering his head to your lap. his shoulders were pressed to your thighs and his face was turned into your stomach.
he sighed in your comfort. "always staring when you can just ask,” he murmured.
"m'not staring,” you promised, but your fingers did graze over his left shoulder before they tangled in his hair.
Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.
Word Count: 2123
Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.
---
The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.
The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.
“Hey there pretty bird.”
Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.
Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”
Speak of the devil.
“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”
His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”
Heat creeps up your cheeks.
You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-
“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.
“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”
You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.
“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”
You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”
“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”
Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.
“Sylus-!”
He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”
You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.
---
The second time is when you visit on one of your off days.
When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.
Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.
A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.
“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”
He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-
Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.
It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.
“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”
You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.
“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.
He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.
“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”
“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”
“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”
“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”
You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”
Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”
God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.
You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.
Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.
“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.
God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?
---
The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.
“Where’s Mephisto?”
Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.
Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.
“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d*** bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”
“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”
“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.
“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.”
Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.
“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.
“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”
Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.
“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.
The air goes silent.
Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization.
You were playing with him.
“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?
“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.
Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”
“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.
“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”
“Quiet.”
Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.
Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)
you end up getting kidnapped on a girls' trip to another region.
you used yourself as bait so your friends were spared when the kidnappers crashed your hotel. however, your kidnappers weren't stupid. they knew they'd seen you somewhere. and then, it dawned on them: sylus' pretty little toy, his most prized possession, always tacked to his arm like an accessory.
they knew he'd lose his shit if something happened to you. knew he'd come out of obscurity to find you. and then, they'd strike. they figured, why not snuff out two birds with one stone?
your kidnappers don't pull any punches. literally. they decide to rough you up by taking their hatred for onychinus and their leader out on you.
you chuckle, your voice garbled. you don't know how long you've been like this, confined to a warehouse stripped of light, bound to a chair, the ropes biting unforgivingly into your skin. you're sure your ribs are broken, and you're bleeding internally. your eye's swollen shut, your lip's swollen and split, and you're dehydrated.
"the fuck's so funny?" grouses one of the thugs, tugging your head back with a hairful.
you laugh again, and it hurts like hell just to breathe. with blood staining your gums and your face splotched purple, you fix him with your good eye, smiling as wide as you can muster.
"you hit like a bitch," you spit, followed by choked laughter.
the thug's face twists into a scowl. he releases your hair, pushing your head forward none-too-gently. you barely have time to catch your breath before the air is punched from your lungs. a fist to the solar plexus has you seeing stars.
you pitch forward. cough up something viscous, and it splatters bright red on his forearm. the thug reels back, shaking his hand in disgust. his partner laughs something hoarse somewhere from his side.
"all right, all right. take it easy," he assuages with a clap on his partner's back. "we don't wanna kill 'er just yet. not before we get to her boyfriend, yeah?"
you laugh bitterly down at your lap. blood falls in unpretty globs out of your mouth. you fight to stay among the conscious. it's exceedingly difficult when all you want to do is sleep, but a voice in the back of your mind wills you to stay awake. his voice--one you haven't heard in what feels like eons.
"trying to," you murmur to the darkness, trying vainly to blink it away.
before you can slink into an inky abyss, glass shatters nearby.
you hear the telltale screech of a crow, followed by wind and energy whipping about. the breeze whisks through your hair as if to check that you're still alive.
the panicked, confused cries of the men once torturing you come next. you hear flesh being rent from bone, followed by bone breaking and blood painting the concrete. you're too weak to look up. curled into yourself, hanging on by a thread.
when the sound of carnage clears, the wind kisses your sweat-slicked skin. and then, there are large, warm palms cupping your cheeks, urging your head back. they frantically smooth away your hair, and with your good eye, you swear you see flashes of what looks like a demon.
when the bleariness somewhat dissipates, you're instead met with a set of devastated, carmine eyes. your stomach twists. you hate it when he worries.
his brows slope, and he's panting, trying to form words. he's unscathed, as you expected him to be. but his expression is absolutely wrecked as he kneels before you, taking in the mess of matted hair and blood you've been reduced to.
"took you long enough, sy," you muster on a chuckle, pain shooting like white lightning through your chest. darkness creeps like a vignette into your vision before completely consuming it, and you slump against your restraints with a weightless sigh.
then, there is nothing.
….this…THIS RIGHT HERE?!?!?? 😭
Title Suggestion? “Knick of time” (it legit came out of no where)
This could be the most saddest shit to date like BUNNY
@comatosebunny09 LISTEN THE AMOUNT OF ANGST AND UTTER SORROW THIS COULD BRING?
Imagine the road to recovery afterwards OR READER DIESSSS. Imagine reader having to witness Sylus go through emotions she never thought he had and that he NEVER thought he would feel again….
YES AGAIN.
THIS HAD ME COVERING MY MOUTH ESPECIALLY THE CLIFF HANGER.
You know I’m a sucker for a cliffhanger with no part two
