Summary: You're an independent woman working as a lawyer that is stuck in the capitalistic grind to support your son - Artem the black cat and your reading addiction but quite content with her life. What happens when you run into Sylus with his charm in a chance encounter that is dead set on courting you. Or, in other words, what happens when an unstoppable force (Sylus) meets an immovable object (Non-MC)?
Part 2
A/N: Hello! I am back with my random burst of inspiration for writing and this is what I have so far. I saw a few posts talking about Sylus with an older woman and that got me writing. Sylus in this is 26 and reader is 36. I am supposed to finish grading papers yet here I am. Reader exhibits ADHD traits and a smoking addiction (stay safe guys!)
It was just another regular day in your life where you were stuck at work, wanting time to move fast so that you can go home and cuddle with you cat as you read some novels. Some would say that was a sad and boring life for a 36 year old single woman but you couldn’t care less. You were happy and content with your life (except your job but that was because of your stupid boss). Your boss was on your ass wanting you to finalise the draft for the upcoming major investment into your company. Tired of trying to force yourself to work, you decided to take a quick smoke break and grabbing a drink from the cafe nearby.
You made your way out of the office building and found a somewhat quiet spot near the sidewalk and took a cigarette from your purse and that was when you noticed that your lighter is out of fuel and you forgot to buy a replacement. Of all the days, it had to be today. Cursing yourself, you were looking around to see if anyone around you might have one and that’s when you spotted him - An incredibly tall man with silver hair and sunglasses looking at his phone like it personally offended him. He wore a suit with red blazer that had black tiger stripes. He sure had an odd sense of fashion paired with an aura of a man who thought everything was beneath him.
Deciding that you were only going to ask if he had a lighter and not for his first born, you decided to slowly approach him.“Excuse me. Hi. So sorry to bother you but do you by any chance have a lighter on you?”
The man stared at you with a scrutinising look, like you indeed had the audacity to ask for his first born like the wicked witch of the East. But a second later, he reached into his suit and handed you a very fancy looking lighter.
Not wanting to waste any more of his time and your break, you quickly lit your cigarette and handed the lighter back to the man with a thanks. Walking back to your previous spot, you took a few drags from the cigarette while mentally making a list of all the things you needed to get done so that you can leave this hell hole asap. Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice that the fancy lighter man had walked to stand closer to you.
“I am Sylus.” He introduced himself without a preamble, snapping you back to reality.
“Sorry?” You said as you didn’t catch him the first time, making him repeat himself. Once you registered what he said, you reciprocated by introducing yourself to him.
“Long day at work?” He asked and you figured he was trying to make small talk for some unfathomable reason. Small talk cost you nothing other than the loss of depleting brain cells but eh, what the heck, sure.
“You could say that. Just a boss that can be a bit of a dick. Nothing I can’t handle though. You look like your driver ditched you.”
“What makes you say that?” He inquired, looking intrigued at your assessment of his situation.
“You were looking at your phone like you were ready to murder someone and now you’re here at the sidewalk making small talk with me in your rich fancy suit.” You replied with a shrug. You had the habit of people watching and observing things that other people usually don’t notice or register.
“Rich fancy suit?” Now he was just smiling at you or rather your words which should have made you self-conscious and filter your words but your brain said not today.
“Yea. I mean yeah this is a bougie law firm and everyone might wear something that looks expensive but only a rich rich person who does not care about other people’s opinions would wear…that.”
“What’s wrong with that?” He turned around and leaned on the wall to fully look at you.
“The design is definitely a choice, I’d say. It’s not for everyone and nor can everyone pull it off.” You really should stop talking but you were just digging your grave further and further.
“So, you’re saying I’m pulling it off?” He asked with a smirk, clearly fishing for compliments.
“Weirdly, yeah.” You replied with a small smile of your own as you snuffed your cigarette butt on the sidewalk. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Sylus. I unfortunately have to get back to my job. I hope you’re not stranded for too long, though.”
“It was nice meeting you too, Miss. I hope we meet again.” He said extending his hand for a handshake that you took. He definitely had a sharp handshake that a lot of those business gurus talk about on instagram.
“Well, you never know.” Was all you said as you made your way to the cafe to grab a cup of hot chocolate before going back to your desk. You did not think too much about this encounter unbeknownst to you that this five minutes might change the trajectory of your life as you know it now.
"The Hissing Wastes is the WORST" the Hissing Wastes is great if you bring Blackwall because he proceeds to tell you about the time he got lost in a desert storm, he and his men got drunk and high, and then they woke up naked and had to fight a bunch of ghasts. Most riveting story in the entire game. Solas and Varric wish they had stories to tell like this.
Wild how some blokes think women only go for the most boring, generic, triangular trust fund men when meanwhile, over in the Dragon Age fandom, we are absolutely feral for this parade of glorious mess
(I did Origins but am limited to ten images…but I see you, Alistair “Swooping is Bad” Theirin and Zevran, defo assassin defo farthest thing from a virgin Antivan Crow disaster bisexual. We also go feral for them.)
on nicer headcanons I like to think Arcann was an avid reader in his youth, since he seems to talk and write letters like he was raised by a thesaurus. (specifically romance novels given the way he writes to you)
sylus x raincoat! non mc!reader | hopeful ending | 954 words
What if it wasn't Sylus who finds you first but Ever?
You had nothing then, no memories, no home, no family or friends. So when they offered you a purpose, an identity, you took it without hesitation.
So by the time you meet Sylus, you're an agent on a mission, one of Ever's many "raincoats" keeping track of all the people deemed dangerous to the company and its many secrets. You've been assigned to him by virtue of your lack of identity, making it hard to trace back to Ever. You don't bother trying to act pitiful the way you had once been that fateful day you first woke up as a blank slate.
But you also don't lie about your background, about how you seemingly came from nothing, how you felt lost in a world that seemed to hold no place for you. Because even with the purpose Ever had given you, you were nothing but a mindless tool, and sometimes, that weighs on you.
So he takes you in, keeps you at arms length at first until little by little, you carve out a place by his side, until you've become indispensable to him. It should make you happy, knowing you're one step closer to completing your mission. It should satisfy you knowing you're fulfilling your purpose.
And yet.
Each time you're presented with an opportunity to kill him, you hesitate. You give yourself excuses, tell yourself it's not the right time, that Ever hasn't given you the explicit order to do so when you know very well just how much the company would benefit from having him gone.
Because the truth was, just as he's come to trust you, so have you.
Because where Ever turned you into a bullet they used to load into their gun and point at their targets, Sylus made you feel human. He gave you choice. Where Ever gave you a target and told you to eliminate them, Sylus showed you a photo, a collection of files and asked you how you would handle this threat.
But most of all, Sylus gave you a family. Was it atypical and more than a little strange? Yes, but its yours. Wholly, undeniably yours. Eventually, you stop giving yourself excuses about your actions. You just simply stopped thinking about your mission altogether.
But life has a cruel way of reminding you in the form of the chip in your head.
One moment, you were walking back home—and isn't it a wonder that you could ever find one for yourself—and then next thing you know, you're on the floor in Sylus' office, his arm pressed up against your throat, dark red tendrils of his evol holding your limbs down, your signature blades thrown across the floor.
Your stomach sinks with dread but there's also a sense of relief. You close your eyes, relax against the cool marble of the floor and surrender your life to the man above you. Because if you had to die, at least let it be by the very hands that held you steady, that guided you and adored you in turn. Because like this, you'd at least know your body would be treated like a life lost rather than just another asset to be thrown away.
Yet the end doesn't come and when you dare to open your eyes, you find an expression you've never seen on Sylus' face. Your hands move before you can think to stop yourself, the restraints no longer holding you back. Thus, you're free to hold his face in your scarred palms, rough from a lack of care and many years of spilling blood in the name of a cause you no longer believed in.
Because how could you keep devoting yourself to a company that saw you as nothing more than a dispensable tool when right here in front of you was a man, known for his unflappable composure, that looked as if you might as well have driven your blades into his chest for all that he remained uninjured.
Who looked so utterly devastated that you would willingly let him kill you.
"I'm a danger to you," you try to say.
"No."
"Sylus—"
"No," he insists, voice rough and harsher than you've ever heard from him. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your palms.
"I'll find a way. I'll get that damned chip out of you."
Somehow, it doesn't surprise you that he's already figured out who you are. Perhaps he's known all along.
"You gave yourself to me, surrendered your life to me," he murmurs, lips grazing the scars of your fingers, making you twitch. They've always been sensitive.
"Your life is now mine to do with as I please," he declares, eyes fluttering open, the aether core in eye glowing a bright bloody red.
The arm at your throat retreats, replaced by a large hand, fingers putting just enough pressure for you to feel it, for your pulse to pound harshly against the finger pressed right above it.
"You're mine," he hisses, breathing just the slightest bit labored, before the hand at your throat releases you and he rests his forehead against yours. "So just stay with me."
And so you do. Against your logic, what little conscience you have, and your own fear that you would one day wake up with Sylus in your arms, dead by your own hand, you do.
Because if there was anyone who could make a promise and keep it, it was him.
Because everything Sylus wanted, he took.
Because he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
And for once, just this once, perhaps, you might just believe that you deserve this too.
[Edit Log]
Feb '26 - updated to include non!mc tag; upon review, it fits a non-mc reader better so it was specified to be such
