| Dandy | 28 | Midwest US | CDT | main blog @dandydanja | 🪶
Sylus and Zayne main | Caleb and Xavier enjoyer | slowly falling victim to the Rafayel propaganda
AO3 LINK
MASTERLIST
ALL LI’s 🐦⬛❄️🍎⭐️🎨
Wearing matching Christmas pajamas // fluff //
How good is he at gift-wrapping? // fluff //
Right or Left Handed? // fluff & Caleb-Angst //
LADS LI’s and Stardew Valley // fluff //
[more coming as soon as the motivation returns, ugh]
SYLUS ♥️🐦⬛
Something Like That // wordcount 3.4k // fluff // You're met with unwanted attention from a creep who's never been told 'no' before. Sylus corrects that.
Cockwarming with a Vampire // wordcount 900ish // smut // You ask Sylus if you can try cockwarming while he drinks your blood...
Sylus x Shane (Stardew Valley) ramble
CALEB 🧡🍎
Caleb's Drunken Confessions // wordcount 2.3k // smut with feelings // Caleb can't hold his liquor, or his feelings for you.
JOURNAL 🖋️
FREE WILL FAILURE: (aka what the hell are they wearing??)
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 (finale) [coming soon]
MY FAVORITE JOURNAL PAGES
HEADER IMAGE
SYLUS’s BIRTHDAY / RAINLIT NIGHT
Feel free to send asks or requests or just chat! 🤍
MY TAGS:
Dandy rambles; canon to me !; Amia my beloved; SYLUS AAA; Zayne my beloved; raf propaganda; Colonel Dipshit; sir Xavi
I think being able to curl up in Sylus's lap would heal me
Resting my head on his lap while he plays with his hair, my face pressed against his stomach so I can feel and hear him breathing so clearly. He pulls a blanket from the back of the couch over me and tells me to sleep if I'm tired, not to stay awake on his account. "But what if you get bored?" And he scoffs, because "How could I ever be bored when I'm with you, sweetie?"
Or sitting in his lap while he's at his desk, wrapped around him like a koala so he's still free to work. Playing lazily with his hair, breathing in the cologne at his throat, rubbing my cheek against his (and failing to be subtle about it). He rests a hand at my lower back to pull me up closer, tucking his chin against my shoulder in a sort of hug, smirking as he teases me about being so needy. But before I can feel bad about it, he breathes me in and sighs, at peace. "I'm a little needy today, too. We should stay like this for a bit longer, don't you think?"
Finding him already asleep in bed. Doesn't matter if he's sleeping on his back or his front, I'm climbing up to lay on top of him, tucking my hands between his body and the mattress and soaking up his warmth like a rock in the sun. He's been awake since the door opened, drifting in and out of consciousness, but he slips right back under right away under my weight, like it's all he needed to rest peacefully
onychinus wasn’t really an official office, but there existed a home-base of operations.
with clean-cut interior, bulletproof glass conference rooms, desks scattered with both paperwork and technology alike under the ambient warm light surprisingly considerate of people who are sensitive to brightness, the building stands central north of the N109 zone.
this, as far as dwellers and factions know, is the home of the infamous ruler of onychinus. the dragon’s den. the keeper’s castle.
and this young, new assistant who is trying to make something of himself in the tower of bodies trying to climb upwards on the social ladder starts work today.
onychinus promises worth in exchange for loyalty. no questions asked.
he can do that.
he hasn’t even been sat an hour yet on his new desk before the phone started to ring.
briefed that all calls should be handled with promptness and professionalism, he takes it barely at the first ring. not expecting the voice that comes through.
“helloo?”
it takes him a moment to recall the script. “service?”
“can talk to papa?”
papa? he’s spent all week memorizing the names of the organizations affiliates. not one is called papa. had he missed something? so soon shall this be the end of his career?
he swallows. ponders—this can either be an enemy with technology to change their voice, or… no, how could a child know this number?
“hello? can talk to papa?”
“who is this?” he demands, harsh.
it is lost on the voice. he dictates his own learned script slowly. “my name… is… keewo.”
keewo… neither was that on the list. had he missed a page? was it the phonetic alphabet? code?
his palms begin to sweat. phone calls should never last more than a minute unless necessary. and the time ticks dangerously closer to forty seconds.
and his supervisor seems to he counting with him, because across the room, polishing a newly shipped in protocore weapon, his eyes meet ones behind a crow’s mask.
“you are not in our system.”
“what tissem?” the voice breathes, mouth too close to whatever receiver he was using. “can talk to papa pease?”
“are you a child?” forty seconds… the masked man rises from his seat.
“no. i boy.”
“how old are you?” forty-three. he’s placing the weapon down.
“i two. oh-most, twee.” the boy says happily. “can talk papa now, pease?”
forty-nine. his eye twitches. “who is papa?”
“my papa!”
fifty. shit. the supervisor is a few steps— “what’s his name?”
“uhh… uh…” fifty-three.
fifty-four.
fifty-five.
“papa name is… uh—“
“you dialed wrong.” fifty seven.
“no! i pwactice.” he harrumphs on the other end. fifty eight. “my papa name sy-woos!”
fifty-nine.
sylus.
his blood runs cold.
at sixty, like clockwork the phone is snatched from his hand. but the masked man who’d given him strict instructions that day has frozen in his own place a few paces away.
behind him stands a ghost never meant to be witnessed by mortal eyes. this shadow clad in darkness that only allow his red irises’ glow to pierce through. he lowers his head—respect, fear— he cannot say. but his heart beats like hooves in of a stampede.
“kyros.” says sylus. mister sylus— he would be instructed to call him were it not deemed unnecessary because he never comes in. “papa is working, angel.”
he barely hears the commotion on the other end. doesn’t even register the way the ominous entity of a man’s voice softens to an unbelievable timbre just above him.
“i know, i miss you too.” he says. footsteps fade along with the voice as he retreats with the wireless into the private office reserved for him alone.
he’s done for, surely. how could he have dismissed the boss’s son? how could he have known? no matter; he should have. and now—
“hey.” the masked supervisor squeezes his shoulder and he jumps like a cat.
the man— he isnt sure which twin this is but there were two of them earlier— snickers. “scared?”
he swallows.
“don’t worry about it.” he points to the dock missing its handheld, towards the light glowing orange. “forgot to mention, if it’s this color, always redirect to the main phone.”
he swallows. the boss doesn’t like to be bothered with trivial things, is what he knows. right?
but his supervisor adds. “he doesn’t like missing calls from very important people.”
he has no time to process before sylus returns and the handheld clicks in place in the dock before him.
crimson eyes examine him and he feels like his skin is peeled apart and soul exposed for a moment before sylus slowly turns away.
rafayel/caleb: you are PROTECTED and WATCHED. they get along annoyingly well and end up telling each other all their secrets, even the ones kept from you. they decide working together fully is in your best interest. feed into each other's yandere tendencies. lots of ribbons and blindfolds and manhandling when they fuck you. their shared cute aggression and inability to say no to you is your greatest weapon.
zayne/sylus: daddy duo. zayne is the strict one. you go to sylus when you want to go behind zayne's back to get your way. sometimes sylus betrays you and ties you to the bed posts and leaves you for zayne to find when he gets home. they both call you sweet girl, and when you are in public, they both have a hand on you somewhere at all times.
rafayel/zayne: work really well together when shit gets serious. teacher/student roleplay, often. they have very different worldviews and you are always trying to prompt philosophical discussions between them for your own entertainment. also work together well at night. rafayel holds you against his chest, entirely restrained, while zayne punishes you with his cock. very gentle thorough aftercare.
rafayel/sylus: they nearly kill each other a few times at the start. they are apparently accidents, but you have your doubts. especially when sylus calls raf kitten one day and gets a dagger in his shoulder as a consequence. they take you on exotic trips very often. you get fucked in each place. they keep track of these places on a map and challenge each other in various games to decide who gets to choose the next place to take you. they both love dressing you up all pretty, often in pink.
xavier/caleb: always competing for your attention. snarky. passive-aggressive jealous bickering. lock in together when you need protecting. no hand raised against you lives. every time caleb feeds you a perfectly cooked meal, xavier fucks you for desert to make sure he's keeping the balance. caleb banned him from the kitchen for your safety. xavier makes you call him gege sometimes just to piss him off.
xavier/zayne: you catch them in discussions sometimes that make your head spin. they respect each other a lot. zayne has an accident with his evol one night and needs distance from you, escaping out into the cold night. but before he can spiral into self-loathing, xavier follows him out and talks him out of it. he tells him he's the only one in the universe he trusts with your life.
rafayel/xavier: pure joy and fun with a side of murder. they don't get along at first. xavier doesn't like how involved you are with rafayel's revenge/rescue missions. but after insisting on coming along, he quickly gets on side. ends up completely dedicated to the cause, especially when he sees how it upsets you. you find them napping together sometimes, and rafayel calls xavier old and out of touch when he doesn't understand his art. you have baths together nearly every day, and at night they grab at you and tug you between them like two only children who've never had to share their favourite toy.
xavier/sylus: sylus scares children off as he stands at your side and xavier smiles from your other side and tells them he's not nearly as scary as he looks. sylus stirs up xavier's jealous tendencies on purpose just to fuck with him, and because he knows you like it. he'll sit you on his cock and ask who fills you better or challenge xavier to try and take what belongs to him. respect each other but bicker like they hate each other.
zayne/caleb: serious plotting and scheming. have the potential to take over planet earth. EVER is rubble in 4 business days. no matter how much you want to see them fight, they keep it out of your sight, even when you tease and incite jealousy as best you can. sometimes when you've been more trouble than usual, they punish you together for being a bad girl.
sylus/caleb: the most pampered spoiled princess known to mankind. wants for nothing. sleeps in between them every night and when one of them is gone the other cockwarms you to soothe you. potential for absolute evil to manifest between them as they feed into each other's all-consuming obsession and desire for you. have the potential to work together to destroy all life in the universe if it would make you just a little bit happier.
ngl, if I sit on Sylus' like monologue to a sleeping MC in Shared Bliss for too long- I will in fact fucking implode. Like, as much as I love softer Sylus, there's something about hearing him acknowledge the like more monstrous/fiendish urges he has. Because the thing about Sylus is between his own wants, his draconic nature, and the aether core- he wants to be the biggest red flag, he wants to be the yandere of this story. If he fully gave into who he "wants" to be, MC would be locked in his dragon hoarde- his treasure tucked away where they can never leave, where he can just take care of them forever, they'd want for nothing but their freedom.
But he wants MC to choose him more than he wants to own them, he wants MC to be happy more than he wants to hoarde them. He never wants MC to be disgusted by him again, he's a monster but he never wants to be monstrous to them. So, he fights the very nature of his being, because being loved by them matters more- he talks so much about desires, indulging them, begs MC to never hold back on simply taking what they want (always hoping it's him) but he is constantly smothering down this core desire of his own because while it is his very nature to indulge and gorge and take- his love and want for MC and their happiness will always come first.
Hi hello sorry this took me forever to reply to, I have no excuse other than a vague gesture at my diagnoses BUT a lovely chat with a friend has helped the words to form so here you go!!
Imagine if you will … a person not of this world shows up with nothing, no connections to anyone. And he begins working from the ground up, building power and wealth. He does a lot of killing and slaying people in the shadows using both traditional weapons and a magic-adjacent power. He’s also doing some shady/less than legal things: namely the buying, selling, and trading (often in the black market) for things like weapons/bombs and artifacts that hold magical power, but also lots of fruit?
Plenty of his ventures are above board, however, and he eventually amasses enough control to basically run an entire region that’s effectively cut off from the rest of the world, holding unfathomable amounts of wealth — the kind of money you could never spend in your whole life. And he has done all this work for the sole purpose of taking care of someone he has loved for an untold number of lifetimes, despite this person having no memory of him. Their relationship is very rough at first, and the romantic interest is downright hostile with him, to his terrible dismay. But he doesn’t let it stop him, he keeps being consistent and just comforting and there, helping the love interest work though some Really Traumatic Stuff, and eventually they fall in love and have a beautiful domestic life together with their pet bird and adopted child(ren) ….
Now… is this Sylus x MC or my Farmer x Shane ? SURPRISE! It’s both!
And with their stories being so remarkably similar when we look at these specific details it just makes sense to me that Sylus and Shane would make a beautiful match
That, and the fact that they’re two of the main things my autistic ass has been super fixated on for the last year, and the idea of smushing them together is just delightful to me specifically lmao
This entire universe exists because I watched too much Grey’s Anatomy in a single sitting, and my brain scrambled it with Love and Deepspace.
*Dr. Zayne Li (Chief of Surgery and Cardiothoracic Surgeon) The brilliant, unbothered "Ice King." He values absolute order, and expects flawless precision. The New OR Nurse (You). A one night stand turned professional nightmare. A high tension dynamic of trying to maintain professionalism while the other surgeons constantly sense the thick air between you.
*Dr. Rafayel Qi (Attending Plastic & Reconstructive Surgeon) The dramatic, highly sensitive artist of the OR. He views his reconstructive surgeries as literal masterpieces, complains bitterly about the hospital lighting ruining his skin, and brings theatrical flair to every consultation. The Burn Unit Nurse (You) While he focuses on the aesthetic perfection and artistry of reconstruction, you are all about survival and practical recovery. You think he's a dramatic diva, he thinks you're a beautiful, stubborn force of nature. The banter is fast, witty, and deeply emotional as you collaborate on complex patient recoveries.
*Dr. Sylus Qin (Attending Trauma Surgeon) He's an adrenaline chasing surgeon who handles the messiest ER arrivals. He regularly breaks protocols to save lives, and loves nothing more than pushing Zayne’s buttons. The Strict HR Director (You) Enemies to lovers fire. You are constantly trying to keep him from getting the hospital sued. He finds your fierce adherence to the rules incredibly hot, and you hate how effortlessly charming he is even when he's covered in trauma chaos.
*Dr. Caleb Xia(Attending Orthopedic Surgeon) The athletic, high energy bone crusher of the hospital. He treats surgery like a sport, blasts rock music in his OR, and spends his downtime drinking protein shakes and teasing the other doctors.The Physical Therapist (You) A slow burn romance. He breaks the bones to fix them, and you're the one who actually puts the patients back together. You are completely unimpressed by his golden retriever energy and golden boy status, constantly humbling him when he tries to overstep into your rehab plans, which only makes him fall harder.
*Dr. Xavier Shen(Attending Pediatric Surgeon). He looks sleepy 90% of the time but is terrifyingly sharp the second a scalpel is in his hand. He covers his scrubs in cartoon stickers to comfort his tiny patients and can regularly be found napping in hidden corners of the hospital. The Sleep Deprived ER Resident (You) Opposites attract. You are running on six coffees a day, constantly dealing with the chaotic influx of the ER, while he is the calm, gentle presence you have to consult when a kid swallows something they shouldn't. He becomes your designated safe haven, teaching you how to actually breathe, slow down, and share a nap in the on call room.
Zayne was a man of precision. He lived his life by protocols, measured beats, and predictable outcomes. But the liquor from the night before had blurred his usual sharp edges, leaving behind a fragmented, dangerously warm montage of memories.
He remembers your laugh first—loud and unbothered. He remembers the smell of rain and vanilla, and the way his hands, usually so steady and clinical, had felt entirely impatient as he unbuttoned a shirt that wasn't his.
There was a distinct memory of losing his glasses at some point and and how he didn't care to look for them. He remembers behaving like a chaotic trauma resident instead of a chief cardiac surgeon.
And then, he remembers waking up to his empty bed, a pounding headache, and a single, mocking sticky note on the nightstand that read: "For a guy who talks so polite, you're pretty wicked in the dark"
🏥🥼💉🩺🩻🏥🥼💉🩺🩻🏥🥼💉🩺🩻🏥🥼💉🩺
The freezing air of Operating Room 3 usually acted as a reset button for Zayne. The moment he stepped up to the scrub sink, the rest of the world—and whatever chaotic thoughts plagued him—was supposed to vanish.
Not today. He closed his eyes, letting the water run over his forearms. He could still feel the phantom sensation of a laugh vibrating against his chest—a laugh that had belonged to a stranger who had matched him drink for drink.
"Idiot," Zayne muttered to himself, rinsing the soap from his hands.
The heavy door to the scrub room hissed open. Zayne didn’t look up immediately. "Did the blood work come back from the lab yet?"
"I have the labs right here, Dr. Zayne," a voice replied.
Zayne’s hands froze.
That voice. It wasn't Nurse Clara, who was currently at home cradling a newborn. It was lighter. And it was horribly, unmistakably familiar.
He slowly turned his head and stared at you like he’d just witnessed a flatline on a healthy monitor.
You, on the other hand, had to actively fight the urge to turn around and walk directly into oncoming traffic. Of all the hospitals, in all the cities, in all the world—you had to sleep with the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery twelve hours before your first shift. The very same Chief whose chest you had been using as a pillow five hours ago.
The silence that descended upon the scrub room was so thick you could have cut it with a #10 blade. Zayne stared at you as if you were a ghost, or worse, a medical anomaly he couldn't explain. His chest tightened in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with a cardiac event.
"You," Zayne said, completely stripping away the usual polite detachment he maintained with the staff.
"Me," you squeaked, before immediately clearing your throat. You took a step forward, offering a sharp, completely fabricated nod. "I mean, Good morning, Dr. Zayne. I'm the new OR nurse taking over Clara’s rotation. I was told you expect absolute efficiency."
"Right," Zayne said, his voice dropping into that deep register that felt entirely different when it was whispered against your neck the night before. "Let’s get one thing clear. In this OR, we maintain absolute order. No distractions. No surprises."
"Of course, Doctor," you said, stepping closer to offer him a sterile towel, keeping your face a mask of innocence. "I'm excellent under pressure. I never lose my focus. Or my glasses."
Zayne paused, the towel halfway to his hands. He shot you a look so sharp it could have sliced through a sternum.
"What happened last night was a statistical anomaly. A lapse in judgment fueled by an unacceptable blood alcohol level. In this hospital, you are a professional, and I am—"
The scrub room door swung open, cutting Zayne off mid lecture.
Sylus strolled in.
"Zayne," Sylus drawled, his sharp eyes darting from Zayne’s rigid posture to your flushed face, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his lips. "Am I interrupting a consultation? Or are you just hazing the new staff again?"
"Sylus," Zayne said, his tone dropping into a dangerous frost. "Why are you in my scrub room?"
"I'm here because you left your car at the bar downtown, Chief," Sylus said, his grin widening as he stepped closer, dangling Zayne’s car keys by a single finger. "The bartender called me because he thinks I'm your best friend, god knows why"
Sylus turned his gaze entirely onto you "Welcome to the team. If he gives you a hard time, just tell me. I love a good HR complaint."
"Sylus. Out," Zayne ordered, the tips of his ears turning a furious, bright shade of pink.
"Going, going," Sylus chuckled, dropping the keys onto a clean counter well away from the sterile field. "Good luck today. You're going to need it. He's terrible when he misses breakfast."
🥼 💉 🩺 🩻 🏥 🥼 💉 🩺 🩻 🏥 🥼 💉 🩺 🩻 🏥 🥼
The surgical lounge was quiet for a Monday afternoon, save for the loud crunch of Caleb eating a green apple. He was propped up against the counter, scrolling through post-op X-rays on his tablet, while Xavier sat at the table, methodically separating a pile of multi colored gummy bears into neat color groups.
Zayne sat on the opposite side of the table, his posture so straight he looked like he’d been fitted with one of Caleb’s orthopedic spinal rods. He was reviewing a thick patient chart, turning the pages with aggressive snaps.
The door opened and Rafayel drifted in, looking exhausted. He collapsed into an armchair, throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes.
"If I have to look at another deviated septum today, my own facial symmetry is going to collapse from sheer depression," Rafayel groaned. "Zayne, give me a cardiac emergency. Anything to get me out of the plastics wing. Let me retract a sternum. Let me feel alive."
"Go do your charts, Rafayel," Zayne said without looking up. "My OR is not a theater for your existential crisis."
"You're one to talk about an existential crisis," Sylus drawled.
He was leaning against the doorway, having just walked up from the ER trauma bays.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Caleb asked, taking another loud bite of his apple.
"It means our esteemed Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery left his vehicle parked behind the bar downtown last night..."
"I was caught in the downpour after my double shift," Zayne said "I sought shelter. The liquor to blood ratio in my system became unadvisable for operating heavy machinery. I took a cab. It was a purely logical, responsible decision."
"The bartender distinctly mentioned you didn't leave alone. Said you were practically attached at the hip to someone, looking like a pair of residents fleeing a malpractice suit."
Caleb stopped chewing. He slowly lowered the apple, his eyes widening. "Wait. Zayne? You left a bar with someone? Like... a human being? For social reasons?"
"An actual person?" Rafayel instantly sat up, his exhaustion completely forgotten as he peered across the table. "Who? Is it a doctor? A drug rep? Don't tell me it's someone from administration, Zayne, I swear to God—"
"It is none of your business," Zayne snapped, finally looking up. His eyes darted toward the lounge door, silently praying the new OR nurse—you—wouldn't walk in at this exact moment and ruin his life permanently. "It was an acquaintance. We discussed... statistical probabilities."
"Right. Statistical probabilities," Sylus mocked "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
"Xavier, back me up here," Zayne said, desperately trying to redirect the interrogation. "Tell them to mind their own business"
Xavier didn't look up from his gummy bears. He carefully moved a red bear next to a green bear. "I can't, Zayne. I'm actually really invested in this. Did they have a good personality? Or were they just really patient? Because listening to you talk about arterial plaque for more than ten minutes usually requires a sedative."
"I do not talk about plaque in social settings," Zayne hissed.
"Yes, you do," Caleb pointed out. "Last Thanksgiving, you gave my ex girlfriend a lecture on the cholesterol levels in gravy. Honestly, whoever this mystery person is, they deserve a medal. Or a psychiatric evaluation."
"They were completely rational," Zayne muttered defensively, his mind involuntarily flashing to the memory of you laughing at his tie, your eyes bright under the dim bar lights. He quickly cleared his throat, his jaw clenching. "And as I said, it was a one time occurrence."
"Oh, so it was a wild night of passion," Rafayel gasped, clapping his hands together in absolute delight. "Look at him! He’s adjusting his glasses! He always adjusts his glasses when he’s hiding a scandal. This is magnificent. The ice king has a thaw point!"
"I'm leaving," Zayne announced, standing up so fast his chair screeched against the linoleum. "I have a coronary bypass at 2, and unlike the rest of this lounge, I actually respect hospital timelines."
He marched toward the door, the back of his neck burning red.
"Good luck, Chief!" Sylus called out after him, entirely unbothered.
Zayne slammed the door behind him.
The lounge was quiet for a second before Rafayel leaned over to Caleb. "Fifty bucks says whoever it was, they left him within two hours because he tried to check their pulse during a conversation."
"No bet," Xavier popped a yellow gummy bear into his mouth. "He definitely did"
“my— my mama works good. good job.” kyros breathes into the tiny microphone Mr. Raf handed to him.
big, thoughtful eyes blink at the camera awaiting the next prompt while his teacher tries to clarify. “no, yes. sure. but what is she doing a good job on?”
kyros opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure. after sorting through a few thoughts, he presses his lips to the mic again and says, “good job on… uh, work.”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“mama fights.” lucian chews his words, speakers popping at his loud voice. “mama go hurt things.”
“hurt?”
“yes. and do good job.” lucian nods, also staring at the camera. as if to challenge anyone who thinks otherwise.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“hi, i’m lucian and kyros’s mom, and i am a Hunter for The Hunter’s Association.” you say, a little bashful at the answers they provided. “I—I hunt, not hurt. Well, I also hurt, but—but wanderers! Not people. Or— well— Rafayel, stop recording!”
“what do you think your dad does at work?”
“beez-nez.” kyros struggles to wrap his tongue around the word but relays enough to understand.
“like… stocks?”
“ya, he wear socks.”
“like what kind of business, kyros?”
poor kyros looks like his brain blast will injure him. but in a snap of memory he has heard his father sneer at people on the phone, he exclaims. “ah! none!”
“huh?”
“none-your-beez-nez!” he claps happily for remembering. “i do good job!”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“phone— and, and trinkies— and! like, drinks.” lucian lists, twisting his shirt around his hands and swinging side to side.
“does he own a bar?”
he lifts the front of his shirt randomly over his face. “bar? what dat?” Rafayel panics to pull it back down.
when lucian’s face emerges, he says, “papa has a gun.”
“what—“
Mr. Raf has never met the guy, but now he worries what these kids have to witness at home. their father, skye, will be coming to pick them up later, and so he braces for the worst.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“I’m lucian and kyros’s papa.” sylus states, deadpan into the camera in his three piece tailored armani, but radiating with pride at the statement. “and I sell fruits.”
Rafayel falters with the camera and shoots the little ones a look over his shoulder, tired. they blink up at him with identical, thoughtless red orbs that matches their strange father’s and wave.
Thomas lied. Ooh, kindergarten is an easy, fun, break-from-your-routine, might-inspire-you-to-paint kinda gig— not.
He makes that known, later that day. Loud and clear.
“Thomas, what the hell do you think I do for work?”
I have said it before on many occasions but it's worth reminding people that Sylus is a WHORE. And I love it.
He gives major fuck you in the bathroom on the first date before dessert arrives energy.
Think about it.
In his vampire myth, this man was ten seconds in from meeting MC and had every single intention to kill her and he STILL made out with her. Zero memory who she is, ready to impale her to death after bleeding her dry and has the audacity to be like “hold on, give me a kiss real quick,” LMAO!
In his dragon myth when MC was sneaking him, and she started acting like she was trying to fuck cause she feels bored did you see the look on his face? He was down!
I'm convinced if it wasn't for her hating his guts on sight in main story, because despite that she does admit he is hot as fuck so I KNOW he would have taken her amnesia having ass to base and slutted her out regardless. All she had to do was say when.
Nobody can tell me otherwise.
Sylus is easy. And I love that about him.
Fake sleeping so he can get handcuffed to his bed wearing nothing but a silk robe.
Just stamp the words “Fuck me whenever” on your forehead Onychinus leader cause we all see you're about that life.
Do you guys think when Sylus was putting those golden temporary tattoos on he was just thinking to himself "I'll make myself shiny so wife wants me cuz wife likes shiny" or what cuz he ACCENTUATED that little waist of his and his shoulders/back and it 1000% worked
People are trailing MC so she's paranoid and concerned that they're connected with Ever, but really they're just thiefs hired by Big Art who heard Rafayel painted her a press on nail set for an upcoming event, and technically those are worth millions so they're literally here to try and steal her press on nails alsjsj
