lina is here!! INFP girl with AuDHD;; student from Italy
we can talk!! English â Italian â Spanish â Russian
my current obsession!! Love & Deepspace
Itâs not the most polished intro, but with so many of you joining out of nowhere, it felt only fair to write a little something.
Masterlist!! đž
This is a mostly SFW space, but it have a little bit of NSFW content. If you're underage, please keep an eye on updates to this post and DNI with tagged with MDNI works to avoid being blocked.
To celebrate a little treat for my kittens (and Sylusâs upcoming birthday), I prepared 31 ideas that Iâll be turning into small headcanons over the 31 days leading up to his birthday.
Of course, I will make sure to credit you properly and include all necessary acknowledgments!đ«¶
I really like it when people ask to translate my works, and I almost never refuse, because it shows me that people from different countries enjoy what I write đ€
However, I always ask to be given a link to your translation, because who knows â maybe Iâll decide to add it to my original post, because I know that it take a lot of time translate something đ«
Jealous!Sylus with dragon instincts Ă Female!Reader
Hi! I love writing and drawing and I want to try to get a code for VGen, but for that I need your help to receive the code: 100 likes and 5 unique comments. If you like this headcanons or my other works, please support me! âš
please enjoy... âĄ
Sylus simmered quietly off to the side, watching as you stood near the exit chatting sweetly â in his opinion, far too sweetly â with one of your coworkers.
Your shift had ended about ten minutes ago, yet you were still standing there, animatedly telling him something. Only after a few more minutes did you finally say goodbye and head toward the car.
His car.
Sylus had never given in to his instincts. He had been certain they died long ago â along with everything that remained of his draconic nature. But the moment you slid into the seat beside him and the scent of another man reached him, his teeth clenched involuntarily and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
âKitten, Iâve been waiting for you,â he said with a small smile that never quite reached his eyes.
But you didnât notice.
The entire drive, Sylus lightly tapped his finger against the steering wheel. If he still had a tail, it would have been lashing restlessly against the seat right now. But fortunately â or perhaps unfortunately â that tail was long gone, so nothing about his behavior seemed strange to you.
After a while, you noticed the car turning away from the road that led to your home.
âWhere are we going?â you asked.
Sylus didnât answer.
The moment you stepped across the threshold of the mansion, Sylus lifted you into his arms without warning and carried you into the living room. He sat down in an armchair, settling you on his lap and holding you there so you could barely move.
Then he buried his face into your neck, trying to suppress the jealousy that burned inside him.
You were sitting in his car.
You were right beside him.
And yet that disgusting another man's scent still clung to you.
âDid something happen?â you asked, trying to turn to face him.
In response, Sylus only hummed quietly against your neck⊠and suddenly licked your skin. Even he was surprised by the movement. It had been pure instinct â unexpected even to himself.
He needed to remove that scent from you. To erase it. To cover it. To let everyone know that you belonged to him.
Sylus would never try to control you. But he couldnât allow other men to touch you.
âAre you cold, kitten?â he asked softly.
The question was rhetorical â because the next moment he was already wrapping you in his jacket.
This was much better.
Now the scent was right.
Now you smelled like Sylus.
But it still wasnât enough.
He slowly ran his nose along your neck, breathing in deeply as if checking whether any trace of that scent remained. His fingers tightened slightly around your waist.
âWho were you talking to?â he asked quietly, still not lifting his head.
There was no anger in his voice. Only a strange, tense softness.
âA coworker,â you shrugged. âHe justââ You didnât get to finish.
Sylus dragged his tongue across the skin at the base of your neck again, slowly, almost lazily, as if wiping away the last traces of another manâs presence. You shivered slightly.
âSylusâŠâ
Finally, he lifted his head. His eyes had darkened, something far too predatory flickering within them.
âHe was standing too close,â he said quietly.
It didnât sound like a question. More like a statement.
His hand rose to your hair, gently moving it aside and exposing your neck completely. For a moment he simply looked at the skin, as if considering something. Then he leaned down again.
This time his lips lingered against your neck far longer than a normal kiss.
Sylus knew exactly what he was doing.
Dragons mark what belongs to them.
And his instincts had clearly decided that you were a treasure worth guarding.
When he finally pulled away, a visible mark remained on your skin.
He brushed his thumb over it as if checking the result and exhaled quietly.
âBetter.â
You looked at him in surprise.
âYouâre acting strange.â
Sylus chuckled softly.
âAm I?â
His fingers slowly slid along your back, pulling you closer.
âJust reminding the worldâŠâ he murmured near your ear, âthat some things are already taken.â
And if he still had a tail, it would be curling around you in quiet satisfaction right now.
masterlist đž please don't translate or copy without permission
SYNOPSIS. You are a demonic entity that manifests within the walls of an old temple â drawn there by the presence of a strikingly handsome priest who has devoted his life to faith
CONTENT/TAGS. religion, temptation, oral sex (he is the receiving), foreplay, female reader â ïž If you are a deeply religious person, this text may be uncomfortable for you to read!
WORD COUNT. 2.5k words
A/N. Iâve been gone from here for a really long time, but I never stopped writing. A friend of mine asked me to write an NSFW piece for her featuring priest Zayne and a demon tempter reader, and I really wanted to make her happy.
This is my first time ever writing NSFW scenes, so please forgive me in advance if it didnât turn out very well. Iâm also still finishing a chapter about my beloved princess and Sylus.
Zayne had always considered himself a man of his word, and the people around him respected him for exactly that. He never shirked his duties, always woke up early in the morning, always read all the necessary prayers. He wore his cross with pride and blessed everyone who came to the church with care and responsibility. He prayed for the dead, for sinners, tried to guide everyone onto the righteous path. He called people to confession, listened to their prayers, and gave all donations to the poor.
Zayne was perfect.
And that was exactly what angered you.
There were no flaws in him. Nothing to criticize. Nothing to catch on. You watched him day and night, followed him everywhere. He was almost irritatingly perfect.
Neither of you remembered when you appeared in that church or how you managed to enter it at all, but from that fateful day on, you never left him. Was there really a place for a demonic creature beside a priest? Yet the scriptures spoke of the devil tempting Christ for forty days and forty nights.
Zayne quietly muttered prayers under his breath while weeding the small strawberry beds, carefully freeing them from pests. Even in this, he was precise and punctual. Perfect.
You stepped closer and plucked a berry right from under his nose.
A sly smile spread across your face as you deliberately licked your lips and slipped the berry into your mouth, clicking your tongue. You wore a light dress that lifted with every gust of wind, leaving no room for imagination â yet Zayne didnât seem to notice. He never seemed to notice your provocations. You were confident in every movement, every word, every cunning smile you gave him, but he remained equally cold to all of it.
âFather, this berry isnât very tasty,â you said theatrically, spreading your hands as you picked another one and popped it into your mouth. Then you plucked one more and brought it to his lips. âHere, try it yourself!â
Zayne leaned away without even looking in your direction, continuing to murmur and carefully examine each plant.
You walked around him and stood behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders and beginning to massage them while murmuring convincingly into his ear. âFather, arenât you tired in these clothes? Itâs summer, itâs so hot. Why donât you relax a little?â
You were provoking him. You wanted a reaction â the one he stubbornly refused to give you.
Zayne took your hands in his and removed them from his shoulders. His hands were large, beautiful. You could have looked at his fingers for hours. They were so warm â warm enough to easily heat your hellishly cold ones. But he never allowed you to look at them for long. Those perfect hands. He always pulled them away too quickly.
It was late evening. After mass, Zayne was reading prayers in his room, preparing for sleep. A glass of water stood on his desk. He knelt before the cross, his back to the bed, crossed himself, and kissed the crucifix on his chest.
Zayne stood up and turned around. His eyes widened slightly in surprise when he saw you lying on his bed, but that sweet expression quickly faded into his usual indifference.
It upset you a little. You had hoped for more.
You had never come into his room before. You always kept some distance, but the faint blush on his cheeks when you touched his neck was no longer enough for you.
You wanted more.
Zayne turned away and began putting clothes into the wardrobe, standing with his back to you. He always did this. Every time you appeared in his field of vision, he did everything possible not to look at you â to pretend you werenât in the room at all.
And it irritated you terribly.
His eyes were beautiful, and he never looked at you with them.
But Zayne was human and couldnât resist your charms forever â you were sure of that.
That was why you approached him from behind and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his neck.
He froze.
You could clearly see a faint blush rise to his ears. You softly touched your lips to the spot beneath his ear and smiled. If you were a cat, you would have purred at his reaction. He smelled of incense and soap, and you liked that smell far too much.
âFather, I saw how tired you were today. It must be hard, taking care of the plants,â you purred into his ear. âWhy donât you lie down? Iâm sure you can tidy the wardrobe tomorrow.â
He was slowly giving in.
You felt it in the way he held his breath, in the way he didnât push you away immediately this time. You only needed to try a little more for him to finally surrender.
And then he tried his usual small trick again.
You heard the quiet murmur of a prayer.
But this time, you wouldnât allow it. Not when you were so close to victory.
Your hand slid up his neck, and you covered his mouth, whispering softly, âShhh, Father. Thereâs no need. It isnât necessary. Weâre just talking.â
Zayne stood motionless, his eyes closed. You knew he was trying to pray silently, and that was exactly what you had to prevent.
You began leaving soft kisses along his neck, moving higher, until you stood in front of the open wardrobe and kissed his chin. You removed your hand from his mouth and kissed the corner of his lips, your hands gently sliding over his chest.
âCome on, Father. You should rest.â
Zayne took your hands in his and squeezed them for a second, as if he didnât know whether he wanted to push you away or pull you closer. He opened his eyes, and something flickered in his gaze.
âLeave,â was the only thing he said, but he didnât let go of your hands.
You smiled and touched the corner of his lips again, then placed his hands on your waist and let out a quiet, languid sigh. You had dreamed of his hands for months. Zayne tightened his grip on your waist slightly, and you instinctively moved closer, biting your lip. You couldnât let him retreat now.
Zayne stood still and looked at you. Finally, his eyes were directed at you â not at the floor or the sky, but at you.
âDonât stop looking at me,â you whispered, touching your nose to his. âIâve waited so long for this moment.â
And then you finally kissed Zayne.
His lips were soft and full, even when he didnât move toward you at first. But he obeyed you and kept looking, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter. Heat bloomed low in your belly, and you let out a soft moan into his lips as your hands slid over his chest and lower.
âCome on, Father,â you whispered and kissed him again, this time more insistently.
Zayneâs hands moved higher, and he finally returned the kiss, drawing another moan from you. You slipped your hands into his hair and pulled him closer. At first, he responded gently, almost uncertainly, but with every small sound you made, his actions became less careful.
That was exactly what you had been waiting for all this time.
He was finally losing control, showing his true self.
You smiled in pleasure and tugged lightly at Zayneâs lip with your teeth, barely biting â just provoking him.
He gripped your waist harder and pulled back. His glasses were slightly askew on the bridge of his nose, his face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes darting across your face. His lips were swollen from the kiss and slightly parted. He was breathing heavily and swallowed before quietly saying, âLeave.â
But those words had no effect on you.
You felt that he had already surrendered â he just wasnât ready to accept it or say it out loud yet. And that didnât matter.
You licked Zayneâs lower lip, and he exhaled sharply before pressing his lips to yours again. This time the kiss was desperate. He moved much more roughly than before, his large hands roaming from your waist along your back, holding you, pulling you closer and closer, and you moaned again.
Your hands slid lower and, with incredible dexterity, began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his bare torso. Even like this, he looked perfect.
You ran your hands along Zayneâs lower abdomen, and he held his breath. You pressed your body fully against his and placed your hand over his groin, feeling the growing hardness.
That action drew a strangled moan from Zayne, but he didnât move â only held you tighter. You smiled and kissed his chin.
You guided him toward the bed until he sat down, then knelt in front of him. Zayne was breathing heavily and didnât resist at all when you pulled down the waistband of his trousers and boxers, freeing his thick, veined cock, already fully hard.
He was perfect â even with his rumpled, unbuttoned shirt and crooked glasses. Perfect as he looked at you through half-lidded eyes and parted lips, and the sight made you feel unbearably good.
You took the tip of him into your mouth, and Zayne let out a low moan, throwing his head back and clutching the simple cotton sheets. You took him deeper, feeling him twitch and grow even harder as you began to suck gently. The heat in your lower belly intensified with every restrained breath and deep moan, and you felt yourself growing rapidly wetter, moaning around him.
Your movements were provocative â not too slow, but not too fast either. Your gaze wandered over his bare torso as his shirt nearly slipped from his shoulders.
You heard a rustle, and at some point his large hand landed on your head, pulling you lower, forcing you to take him deeper, almost choking.
Zayne felt your throat tighten around him and instinctively thrust his hips forward, clenching his hand in your hair. It felt so good it was sinful, but he couldnât bring himself to think about that now. He couldnât think about faith when your throat wrapped around him so perfectly, when you hummed around him, sending vibrations down his entire length.
His hips began to move more frequently. Zayne felt himself nearing the end and wanted to pull away, but at that moment you pressed closer, not letting him. He came suddenly with a deep groan, gripping your hair tighter.
âGodâŠâ he muttered quickly and looked at you. âI didnât wantââ
You rose quickly and covered his mouth with your hand, smiling. âNo need, Father. It was very good. You liked it too, didnât you?â You kissed Zayne again, letting him taste himself on your lips. You lay fully atop him, felt him harden again, and moaned softly into his mouth.
Zayneâs movements became rough again, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, grinding your clothed pussy against his cock, letting him feel how wet you were. He thrust forward with a low groan. His hands settled on your hips, pulling you closer, and he buried his face in your neck, losing the last remnants of restraint. His soft lips brushed over your pulse point, and you let out another moan.
âStopâŠâ he murmured, but instead of pushing you away, he thrust forward and ran his hands over your skin where your dress had ridden up.
You ran your hand over his chest and lower, stroking his cock, then pushed aside the fabric of your underwear and pressed your wet folds against him. And in that moment, Zayne finally broke.
He flipped you onto your back and positioned himself above you, breathing heavily. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, his lips parted as he looked down at you with an unfamiliar heat. He was perfect in that moment.
You arched your back, your dress riding higher. Zayne pulled it off you sharply and pressed his lips to your chest. He took and squeezed your breast with one hand while taking your nipple into his mouth with the other, biting and sucking. His actions were chaotic â he had completely lost the restraint he had hidden behind so carefully.
Zayneâs hand slid lower, straight to your wet folds. âYouâre wet⊠so filthy,â he muttered against your chest as he pushed two fingers inside you at once, making you arch and cry out softly. His fingers were long, reaching deep inside you immediately, pressing that sweet spot that made your legs tremble and your fingers curl.
You whimpered and clenched around his fingers, but it wasnât enough. You wanted more. You needed more. You wanted Zayne â all of him.
âYes, please⊠come on⊠put it in,â you wrapped your legs around his hips and moaned. Your slick dripped down his hand as he pulled it from you.
The emptiness made you open your eyes in protest, but it was quickly replaced by the pleasant warmth of his cock rubbing against your wet folds. You moved toward him, but Zayne stopped you, placing a hand on your lower stomach.
âYouâre insatiable,â he growled softly, taking your nipples into his mouth again and moaning as he felt them harden under his touch.
âZayneâŠâ you called his name, hoping it would make him move faster â and it worked.
He filled you suddenly, stretching you open, and moaned. Zayne exhaled against your chest, feeling how sweetly you clenched around him, unable to stop himself. You felt him moving inside you, felt his cock twitch with every squeeze, felt his heavy breathing â even felt his shame over such shameless actions.
You wrapped your legs around him and moved with him, feeling yourself approach the peak. Zayneâs hand slid down again, rubbing your clit in practiced circles, stoking the heat in your belly until you came with a moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your face into his flushed throat.
He came almost immediately after. Your tightness was too sweet, and he couldnât hold back, thrusting deeper with uneven, rapid movements before filling you completely with a low growl. Zayne rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard, eyes shining, and stayed like that for a while, simply looking at you as the orgasm slowly faded.
Then Zayne pulled out and sat on the bed with his back to you. You knew he might feel shame now for what he had done just minutes earlier, so you sat up and wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing your nose into his neck.
âThat was good,â you purred. âIâm sure nothing will happen because of a little pleasure, right? Youâll just confess later.â
You tugged him toward you, and to your surprise, he lay down beside you and placed a hand on your waist, pulling you close.
It was the first and the last time.
With that thought, he fell asleep.
masterlist đž please don't translate or copy without permission
Thinking about the princess!reader and Zayne teaching her how to dance. About how gently he keeps his hand on her waist and softly guides her across the ballroom, never scolding her for making mistakes, only steering her movements in the right direction. And about how hard heâs trying not to notice how nice her hair smells, or how soft her skin feels where they touch. Yum!
I think I have a hyperfixation on princesses, but donât blame me â weâre all princesses here.
Sylus sighed heavily as he slammed the door back to his base. And he marched right up to his large bedchamber. Unlike how he very roughly entered his home, he gently knocked on the door before opening it, taking extra care to not scare the love of his life, or in a single word, his wife.Â
It was so crazy how the usually boisterous and ruthless ruler of this ghetto yet established city was a different person with his wife. You see, ever since he learnt how certain things triggered you as a neurodivergent person, heâs learnt every single way he could to make sure you were comfortable with him. You were also extremely jumpy. So making sudden loud noises without warning scares you awake.
But Sylus has done his fair research on how to tackle conflicts regarding this issue. As he gently closes the door, he walks over to the large canopy bed that had a dark red silk covering draped on top of it. And he saw you underneath the silk, tangled up in the covers and hugging onto.. was that his own pillow?
Sylus was sure you would stir awake from the loud beating his heart was making. The sight of you snuggling with his pillow like it was him, wearing an old T shirt he swore he lost a long time ago, looking ridiculously yet adorably large on you, and in his bed. Like it should always be.
Your husband tiptoed to the shared closet, taking caution and remembering where each wooden plank was even the tiniest bit squeaky before hurriedly changing and walking to his, well, I suppose now your side of the bed. âKitten, how am I supposed to sleep with you?â He teases, keeping his voice at a half whisper.
You hummed before rolling over the tiniest bit and crookedly stretching your arms out. And he chuckles. âIâm utterly appalled at how tiny you think I am.â As Sylus strokes your hair before gently planting a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. After nudging you just a little bit, he finally kneels onto the bed before completely lying down on the soft mattress. âAw, did a certain kitten miss me so much, sheâs now replacing me with my pillow?âÂ
âDonât tell me youâre going to start taking the pillow with you.â You mumble so incoherently that itâs a wonder how that man can always understand you. âI just might, sweetie. That way I donât feel like Iâm competing for your love with an inanimate object.â
You sleepily grumble before rolling and curling towards his bare chest. You lazily let one eye open and marvel at how beautiful your husband just looked right now. Crimson red eyes softening towards you after hardening their gaze the whole day, how his tensed up body slowly lowered and relaxed into the cushiony mattress and how his smirk, that was cut off from how sunk in he was in the pillow he had to pry away from you.Â
You rested your head onto the top part of his torso, and then placed one of your legs draping on top of his, and then your arms wrapping around his chest before you nuzzled into him. âI missed you.â You mutter. âI missed you too, my love.â he answered simply, suppressing the idiotic grin from creeping up his face. He was such a lovesick fool it was adorable.
âCan I kiss you?â He asked gently. âYou always can.â You whisper, silently giggling at how he refused to just swoop in for a kiss as often but taking the time to ask you. He was so gentle, and just didnât want to mess anything up. Thatâs why you loved him so endearingly, despite how gruelling his job description and what persona he shows the world as.
A Lullaby for the Flame - Dragon Sylus ⥠Princess
SYNOPSIS. Enraged by the kingâs attempt to steal his treasures, the dragon sets out to destroy the entire kingdom. But during the attack, an unexpected encounter changes his plans: instead of total ruin, he abducts the kingâs greatest treasure â the princess.
CONTENT/TAGS. kidnapping, princess au, captivity, caring dragon, possessive behaivor, slow burn, isolation, tension đź Over time, new tags may be added, so keep an eye out for updates.
WORD COUNT. 1.1k words
A/N Oh my god, I did not expect such a reaction â Iâm honestly so touched that you liked the prologue!! I really hope this chapter doesnât disappoint you either! Iâm also trying to figure out how AO3 works, and I think Iâll eventually post the story there too.
Anyway, letâs take a moment to pity our poor princess, who thinks the big scary dragon is about to eat her (if only she knew what heâs actually thinking đ).
Chapters list. đ
CHAPTER 1.
Previous part.
Princess
He was big. Noâhe was enormous. His eyes glowed a deep, burning red as they fixed on you, and in that gaze you saw a terrifying hunger, the kind that swept over you from head to toe. He was going to eat you, you were sure of it. Fear locked every muscle in your body. Your legs refused to move, a bead of cold sweat slid down your forehead, and your fingertips turned icy.
A real dragon. The kind you had only ever seen in the stolen books you secretly read, the ones youâd managed to take from the servants. His ashen-black scales reflected the sparks of fire around him, and his enormous claws glinted like sharpened blades. He didnât move, but with every breath he released a cloud of smoke from his massive jaws. And his teeth⊠you were certain those teeth could tear you apart in seconds. He could swallow you whole without effort.
He shifted slightly, and you instinctively took a step backâbut then froze, eyes darting, desperate to find a way out. Behind you there was fire; before you, only him and your poor maid lying unconscious on the ground. You didnât know what to do. You couldnât bring yourself to abandon her, but you didnât want to die either.
He exhaled, and for a moment you couldnât see anything at all. The smoke filled your lungs, making you cough violently. Your eyes watered as ash drifted through the air. When you finally managed to open them, the flames were gone. Just one breath from him was enough to extinguish an inferno. You glanced at your maid, then around the garden.
A wild, foolish idea flashed in your mindâand you ran.
Maybe all those people who said you werenât right in the head had been correct.
In moments of panic, adrenaline makes you act before you can think. You had lived in this castle all your life, you knew every inch of the garden, every hidden corner where one could hide. If your plan worked, he would follow youâjust like dogs chase whatever moves and shows fear (and you were very, very afraid). Your maid would survive, and maybe you could hide somewhere he couldnât reach. You just had to make him follow you.
Your lungs burned from the smoke, but you didnât dare stop. You ran like a frightened gazelle trying to escape a lionâs claws.
Sylus
When she started running, Sylus simply watched for a few seconds. Humans were so easy to scareâand the funniest thing was how they truly believed they could escape a dragon. But he would allow this sweet little princess to live with that illusion a little longer. That was why he didnât catch her immediately. In the chaos and smoke, the guards wouldnât find him right away, and he had no intention of losing sight of her.
They had time to play a little game of cat and mouse.
What the princess didnât know was that dragons had an excellent sense of smell. And Sylus thought that not only did she have beautiful, shining eyes, but she also smelled exquisite. She carried a scent that was soft, delicate, and helplessâso perfectly fitting for her.
It would take him only a few seconds to catch her.
She was running with all her might, but he could see the way exhaustion began to take over. Her movements slowed, her breath came in ragged gasps. The silk of her gown was coated with dust, its shimmer fading as the long skirt fluttered around her legs. The golden thread woven into her hair had dulled, and her crystal shoes clattered against the stone path with a sound like little bells.
She was breathtaking.
Sylus followed at an easy pace, letting her burn through her strength and adrenaline. Perhaps then she would be less terrified when he finally reached her, and the horror in her bright eyes would fade. He was willing to wait.
Then, unexpectedly, his lovely princess stumbled. Her heel slipped on the edge of a stone, and she twisted her ankle with a sharp cry. Before she could fall, Sylus caught her easily in his massive clawed hand.
She was so small and soft, fitting perfectly into his grasp. Up close, her skin almost seemed to glow, so radiant that even the dust couldnât dull it. Sylus held her carefully, mindful not to scratch or crush her. He didnât want her to bleed in his hands.
But the princess, oblivious to the danger she was in, started struggling wildly, twisting and pushing against his hold. It was useless, of course. Sylus held her firmly, watching her intently.
Her hair was fine and delicate, strands glimmering faintly. Her tear-filled eyes sparkled like diamonds. She was preciousâeven when she trembled, even when she fought to escape.
Sylus disliked the terror in her gaze. She was far too beautiful to be afraid of him, and that was something he intended to change.
There was no point in waiting any longer. He drew her closer, careful not to let her slip from his grasp. It was time to leave.
The magnificent dragon spread his wings and rose into the sky. The princess let out a piercing scream, but just as he expected, she soon stopped moving. Sylus held her securelyâhe would never allow her to fall.
Princess
It was high. Too high. The air was thin and cold, and your head spun as you looked down. You screamed until your throat burned dry.
You were trapped in the dragonâs claws, and no one came to save you. Your plan hadnât workedâor maybe it had, only halfway. Your maid was alive, but you couldnât escape your fate.
You barely had time to be surprised that he hadnât eaten you right away before another thought struck, one far more terrifying: he was going to take you to his lair, and that was where heâd devour you. No one would stop him there.
Still, somewhere deep inside, a faint spark of hope flickered. Maybe your father would send someone to rescue you⊠unless they already believed you were dead.
You closed your eyes and tried not to look down, where the towers of your castle grew smaller and smaller with every passing second. You were leaving your home, your life, everything you had ever knownâand you had no idea what awaited you next.
Next part. (Coming soon...)
TAGLIST. @ninaandtuna @sylusgirlie7 @namjooningera @poptrim @nm4565natty @terriblesoup @mochibunnies3 @desi-laila @dramaticalsachan @yourlocalcatscammer @gojoswaterbottle @stxrrielle @deepspaceeaterr @miss-miwmew @rukinamukami @tearydamsel @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @crimsonmarabou @spoopyboos @lylycababy @letharue @youkoden @ladymervy - let me know if you want to be tagged!! â€ïž
masterlist đž please don't translate or copy without permission
đ A little help can make a big difference for my family. You can see here how to support us here
This topic is really close to me, since I have ADHD myself and what used to be called Aspergerâs but now is known simply as Autism Level 1. So yeah⊠Iâm very familiar with the struggles people with neurodivergence deal with.
And I really wanted to write something for those who share the same experiences.
please enjoy... âĄ
Sylus â If you canât stand noise
It didnât take long for Sylus to realize you didnât like loud places. Every time you walked through a crowd, your shoulders tensed and your brows furrowed.
Even if you never told him directly, heâd still guide you somewhere quieter â picking tables far away from the chatter in restaurants, choosing seats in the cinema that were tucked away from the box office buzz (or, honestly, just preferring to watch movies with you at home, adjusting the sound so it wouldnât sting your ears).
You straightened imaginary creases on your blouse, nerves creeping in. You had to attend this concert for work, and it was already draining you. Your seat was right next to the orchestra, and just the thought of it made your ears ring.
âMay I?â
You turned to the familiar voice. Sylus stood there, hand reaching for yours. You blinked a few times before slipping your hand into his, looking at him questioningly.
âI happened to get a second ticket for the central balcony. Seeing you here⊠I figured I should share it with a lovely lady.â
And just like that, he led you up, into the quiet distance where the music softened, no longer overwhelming.
Zayne â If you need to take medication
When they told you you had to start medication, your first answer was a big fat no. Oh, no no no â you werenât about to take any pills. Not even the ones they swore were harmless and non-addictive.
Zayne listened quietly to every one of your arguments, all your distrust, your frustration. At first, he didnât say much, just nodding. Heâd been to seminars, read plenty, he even knew your doctor personally and trusted their judgment.
He never pushed â only persuaded you gently. He knew how hard it was to accept something like this. And in the end, he managed. Sometimes, when you forgot, heâd even hand you the meds himself.
That morning, you were already late. You rushed into the building, phone buzzing in your pocket.
âYou left the pack on the table.â
You stopped, checked your bag. Nothing. You cursed under your breath. No time to run back home.
Then came the sound of calm, steady footsteps. You turned.
Zayne stood there with the bag in hand, smiling softly as he passed it to you.
âIâve got to go,â he whispered quickly, kissed your lips, and walked away before you could even thank him.
Rafayel â If you have hyperfocus
Oops⊠turns out itâs not just you with hyperfocus. This is one of my favorite headcanons.
Youâd often sit together in his studio â him sketching, you doing your own thing. Hours would slip by until one of you finally noticed the sun had set and neither of you had eaten all day.
If you ever got obsessed with something? Heâd be right there, just as lost in it, listening to you ramble for hours about your brilliant project (the one that might never even happen in real life, but that didnât matter).
By now youâd been typing away at your laptop for hours, back turned to Rafayel. The idea had struck you over breakfast, and you couldnât let it go until it was written down.
Meanwhile, Rafayel kept sketching. At some point he showed you a drawing â a breathtaking building that made you gasp before you instantly dove back into your work.
âCutie, I expected a better reaction than that. What if I donât feel like drawing illustrations for your future book anymore?â He pouted dramatically, hands spread wide.
You laughed, leaned in to kiss him. He was wonderful. And it didnât matter that youâd probably abandon the book soon â right now, in this moment, everything was perfect.
Iâll be making a part with Xavier and Caleb soon.
masterlist đž please don't translate or copy without permission
đ A little help can make a big difference for my family. You can see here how to support us here
A Lullaby for the Flame - Dragon Sylus ⥠Princess
SYNOPSIS. Enraged by the kingâs attempt to steal his treasures, the dragon sets out to destroy the entire kingdom. But during the attack, an unexpected encounter changes his plans: instead of total ruin, he abducts the kingâs greatest treasure â the princess.
CONTENT/TAGS. kidnapping, princess au, captivity, caring dragon, possessive behaivor, slow burn, isolation, tension đź Over time, new tags may be added, so keep an eye out for updates.
WORD COUNT. 1.2k words
A/N I hope youâll like this part! I tried really hard to make the beginning interesting. I canât wait until we all end up in the dragonâs lair.
Chapters list. đ
PROLOGUE.
Princess
Life at the royal court was never easy, but you had long grown used to it. Since childhood you had been prepared for one thing only â to be a beautiful marionette. Endless hours of etiquette lessons, embroidery until your fingers cramped, stiff banquets, exhausting dance practices, heavy gowns, painted smiles, and endless tales about the exquisite prince who would one day claim your future.
Until now, those had been only stories, but everything had grown far more serious. For months now, princes from neighboring kingdoms had been arriving at court, asking your father for your hand â and each time, you prayed they would be refused. To you, the entire process felt cold and lifeless, stripped of any trace of romance. Worst of all, you couldnât speak of it to anyone. Everyone around you seemed obsessed with your future husband, and they would look at you with thinly veiled scorn if you dared to say you werenât interested.
Everyone except Tara.
Tara, the daughter of one of your fatherâs closest lords were your only real friend. She adored the idea of a charming prince in all her girlish naivety, but she never looked at you like you were mad when you raged against the thought of becoming nothing more than an expensive ornament in some princeâs hands. A body meant only to bear heirs and warm his bed.
That afternoon, you sat in the garden, watching the flowers sway in the wind while your maid poured you tea. You had managed once again to slip away from a public gathering, and this time, miraculously, you had succeeded. Here it was quiet, peaceful â far from whispers about suitors, false laughter, and the empty-headed girls you were expected to spend your days with. Hollow shells, not so different from the shell they were so eager to mold you into.
You were lost in thought when suddenly a thunderous crash echoed from the eastern tower of the palace. You and your maid both turned â only to see great clouds of black smoke rising into the sky, followed by screams and terrified cries.
You leapt to your feet as your maid immediately tugged you in the opposite direction. Somewhere in the distance, guards were shouting to one another that the princess had to be found and taken to safety. You hurried through the maze of flowers, your gown fluttering around you as butterflies brushed your shoulders, strangely oblivious to the chaos. Your maid glanced behind you anxiously, urging you to move faster.
Just when it seemed you had reached a safer part of the garden, another explosion rang out. Flames burst to life right in front of you, devouring the roses in a blaze of heat. Your maid grabbed your hand and tried to drag you in another directionâŠ
But then a massive shadow fell over you. She gave a strangled gasp, and before you could even react, your maid crumpled to the ground in a faint.
Sylus
The number of times greedy, foolish humans had tried to sneak into his lair could no longer be counted. Each attempt ended the same way, and yet they still came back, always with the same purpose: to steal what belonged to him. His treasures. His jewels. The collection he had gathered over decadesâor rather, centuriesâcarefully chosen piece by piece, each one placed with deliberate care, each with its own place in the hoard.
And every time, those intruders wore the same crest on their armor. Every time, they died for their greed. But if the common men were fools, their king was far worse. That was why Sylus had decided it was time to show them once and for all what became of those who trespassed into a dragonâs domain without invitation, daring to lay their hands on what was his.
Sylus was one of the most infamous and feared dragons on the continent. Like all dragons, his lifetime had stretched long enough to amass riches beyond imagination, and he guarded them with immense pride. The petty struggles of mortals never concerned him, and he had little interest in their villages or their cities. For most people, he was nothing more than a legend. But all knew one rule: no one should ever step into the northern cavern of the kingdom, no matter the promises of legendary treasures said to rest within.
For many years, the rule had been respected. Until the current king ascended the throne.
At first, Sylus had shown restraint. He would frighten the intruders away, hoping they would recognize their mistake and learn. But the attempts never stopped. Eventually he was left with no choice but to act. If the problem lay with the ruler himself, then the solution was simple. He would burn the royal palace, and the kingdom along with it, so the world would learn what became of those who provoked a dragonâs wrath.
That was how his assault began.
His mere appearance had been enough to throw the palace into chaos. Some people fled in terror. Others, foolishly brave or desperately ambitious, tried to fight him in hopes of winning glory and claiming his hoard. Others still scrambled to protect themselves or the royal family. It took him less than ten minutes to reduce the eastern tower to ruin before turning his attention west.
A single torrent of dragonfire consumed the royal garden. Petals shriveled instantly, curling into ash as they fell like black snow across the ground.
âWhat a shame,â Sylus thought, almost idly. The destruction of a garden so lush and carefully tended did not appeal to him. But his fury burned hotter than roses, and the flames were one of the quickest ways through the palace walls. The bright pink roses flared and vanished, leaving behind nothing but charred stems.
Then his gaze shifted.
Something else had caught his attention.
A small figure, frozen before the flames. A girl in a pale, lavishly decorated gown, her fine shoes already dulled with soot, their shine lost beneath the falling ash. At her side stood a womanâher panting, trying in vain to shield the girl with her own body. Such loyalty. Almost admirable, though ultimately useless.
The servant, frantic for a way out, turned and caught sight of him. The horror in her eyes was almost entertaining. It was sharp, pure, and Sylus found it⊠pleasing. She stiffened, let out a pitiful squeak, and crumpled unconscious to the ground.
And then the girl looked at him.
Her eyes.
They were bright, lit by the reflection of the flames, but shining with something otherworldly. That light pierced through the smoke and heat, catching him off guard. Her hair had been braided neatly, but now strands had fallen loose, framing her face and slipping across her eyes. Beautiful eyes. Too beautiful for the blood of her father to run in her veins.
A princess.
Her features were soft, strikingly unlike her fatherâs. Her fear was quiet, not wild or shrieking like the others. Her eyes brimmed with tears of terror, her lips parted slightly as if to scream, but no sound came out. She only stared at him, frozen, trembling, those eyes full of pure horror.
Sylus did not particularly like that look, but he could change it easily enough.
The fire around her sputtered and died, leaving only smoke curling into the air. In that moment, Sylus understood. He did not need to burn an entire kingdom to ash in order to wound the king.
The servant would live. Someone had to carry the message back. Someone had to tell the king that his greatest treasure had been taken from him.
Hi! I hope ur doing well ê°â â â á”â àŒâ á”â ê±â Ëâ ⥠I love the story about dragon Sylus and royal reader, so I really hope u write it as a fanfic, I know I'll love it even more đđ
Iâm so sorry I forgot to reply!! I donât know if youâre on my taglist or if youâre following me, but I finally started writing a fanfic!! I really hope youâll like it! đ€
A Lullaby for the Flame - Dragon Sylus ⥠Princess
SYNOPSIS. Enraged by the kingâs attempt to steal his treasures, the dragon sets out to destroy the entire kingdom. But during the attack, an unexpected encounter changes his plans: instead of total ruin, he abducts the kingâs greatest treasure â the princess.
CONTENT/TAGS. kidnapping, princess au, captivity, caring dragon, possessive behaivor, slow burn, isolation, tension đź Over time, new tags may be added, so keep an eye out for updates.
WORD COUNT. 1.2k words
A/N I hope youâll like this part! I tried really hard to make the beginning interesting. I canât wait until we all end up in the dragonâs lair.
Chapters list. đ
PROLOGUE.
Princess
Life at the royal court was never easy, but you had long grown used to it. Since childhood you had been prepared for one thing only â to be a beautiful marionette. Endless hours of etiquette lessons, embroidery until your fingers cramped, stiff banquets, exhausting dance practices, heavy gowns, painted smiles, and endless tales about the exquisite prince who would one day claim your future.
Until now, those had been only stories, but everything had grown far more serious. For months now, princes from neighboring kingdoms had been arriving at court, asking your father for your hand â and each time, you prayed they would be refused. To you, the entire process felt cold and lifeless, stripped of any trace of romance. Worst of all, you couldnât speak of it to anyone. Everyone around you seemed obsessed with your future husband, and they would look at you with thinly veiled scorn if you dared to say you werenât interested.
Everyone except Tara.
Tara, the daughter of one of your fatherâs closest lords were your only real friend. She adored the idea of a charming prince in all her girlish naivety, but she never looked at you like you were mad when you raged against the thought of becoming nothing more than an expensive ornament in some princeâs hands. A body meant only to bear heirs and warm his bed.
That afternoon, you sat in the garden, watching the flowers sway in the wind while your maid poured you tea. You had managed once again to slip away from a public gathering, and this time, miraculously, you had succeeded. Here it was quiet, peaceful â far from whispers about suitors, false laughter, and the empty-headed girls you were expected to spend your days with. Hollow shells, not so different from the shell they were so eager to mold you into.
You were lost in thought when suddenly a thunderous crash echoed from the eastern tower of the palace. You and your maid both turned â only to see great clouds of black smoke rising into the sky, followed by screams and terrified cries.
You leapt to your feet as your maid immediately tugged you in the opposite direction. Somewhere in the distance, guards were shouting to one another that the princess had to be found and taken to safety. You hurried through the maze of flowers, your gown fluttering around you as butterflies brushed your shoulders, strangely oblivious to the chaos. Your maid glanced behind you anxiously, urging you to move faster.
Just when it seemed you had reached a safer part of the garden, another explosion rang out. Flames burst to life right in front of you, devouring the roses in a blaze of heat. Your maid grabbed your hand and tried to drag you in another directionâŠ
But then a massive shadow fell over you. She gave a strangled gasp, and before you could even react, your maid crumpled to the ground in a faint.
Sylus
The number of times greedy, foolish humans had tried to sneak into his lair could no longer be counted. Each attempt ended the same way, and yet they still came back, always with the same purpose: to steal what belonged to him. His treasures. His jewels. The collection he had gathered over decadesâor rather, centuriesâcarefully chosen piece by piece, each one placed with deliberate care, each with its own place in the hoard.
And every time, those intruders wore the same crest on their armor. Every time, they died for their greed. But if the common men were fools, their king was far worse. That was why Sylus had decided it was time to show them once and for all what became of those who trespassed into a dragonâs domain without invitation, daring to lay their hands on what was his.
Sylus was one of the most infamous and feared dragons on the continent. Like all dragons, his lifetime had stretched long enough to amass riches beyond imagination, and he guarded them with immense pride. The petty struggles of mortals never concerned him, and he had little interest in their villages or their cities. For most people, he was nothing more than a legend. But all knew one rule: no one should ever step into the northern cavern of the kingdom, no matter the promises of legendary treasures said to rest within.
For many years, the rule had been respected. Until the current king ascended the throne.
At first, Sylus had shown restraint. He would frighten the intruders away, hoping they would recognize their mistake and learn. But the attempts never stopped. Eventually he was left with no choice but to act. If the problem lay with the ruler himself, then the solution was simple. He would burn the royal palace, and the kingdom along with it, so the world would learn what became of those who provoked a dragonâs wrath.
That was how his assault began.
His mere appearance had been enough to throw the palace into chaos. Some people fled in terror. Others, foolishly brave or desperately ambitious, tried to fight him in hopes of winning glory and claiming his hoard. Others still scrambled to protect themselves or the royal family. It took him less than ten minutes to reduce the eastern tower to ruin before turning his attention west.
A single torrent of dragonfire consumed the royal garden. Petals shriveled instantly, curling into ash as they fell like black snow across the ground.
âWhat a shame,â Sylus thought, almost idly. The destruction of a garden so lush and carefully tended did not appeal to him. But his fury burned hotter than roses, and the flames were one of the quickest ways through the palace walls. The bright pink roses flared and vanished, leaving behind nothing but charred stems.
Then his gaze shifted.
Something else had caught his attention.
A small figure, frozen before the flames. A girl in a pale, lavishly decorated gown, her fine shoes already dulled with soot, their shine lost beneath the falling ash. At her side stood a womanâher panting, trying in vain to shield the girl with her own body. Such loyalty. Almost admirable, though ultimately useless.
The servant, frantic for a way out, turned and caught sight of him. The horror in her eyes was almost entertaining. It was sharp, pure, and Sylus found it⊠pleasing. She stiffened, let out a pitiful squeak, and crumpled unconscious to the ground.
And then the girl looked at him.
Her eyes.
They were bright, lit by the reflection of the flames, but shining with something otherworldly. That light pierced through the smoke and heat, catching him off guard. Her hair had been braided neatly, but now strands had fallen loose, framing her face and slipping across her eyes. Beautiful eyes. Too beautiful for the blood of her father to run in her veins.
A princess.
Her features were soft, strikingly unlike her fatherâs. Her fear was quiet, not wild or shrieking like the others. Her eyes brimmed with tears of terror, her lips parted slightly as if to scream, but no sound came out. She only stared at him, frozen, trembling, those eyes full of pure horror.
Sylus did not particularly like that look, but he could change it easily enough.
The fire around her sputtered and died, leaving only smoke curling into the air. In that moment, Sylus understood. He did not need to burn an entire kingdom to ash in order to wound the king.
The servant would live. Someone had to carry the message back. Someone had to tell the king that his greatest treasure had been taken from him.
A Lullaby for the Flame - Dragon Sylus ⥠Princess
SYNOPSIS. Enraged by the kingâs attempt to steal his treasures, the dragon sets out to destroy the entire kingdom. But during the attack, an unexpected encounter changes his plans: instead of total ruin, he abducts the kingâs greatest treasure â the princess.
CONTENT/TAGS. kidnapping, princess au, captivity, caring dragon, possessive behaivor, slow burn, isolation, tension đź Over time, new tags may be added, so keep an eye out for updates.
A/N. I finally got around to it and started writing the fic!! I really loved the idea itself, and I saw that there were people interested in it, so here I am! Iâm not sure if I should post this on Ao3 too, Iâve never published anything there before.
In the end, I barely managed to fall asleep last night, but I did get this written down. I just love Sylus too much, and I had to write about how he acts around pregnant readers.
Please enjoy... âĄ
Sylus knew you were pregnant before you even found out yourself. It was an incredibly subtle change in your scent, something that absolutely didnât escape him. But he didnât say a word â he wanted you to tell him on your own.
You, however, noticed the changes in his behavior right away. How much gentler he became with you, how he suddenly stopped using motorcycles and preferred comfortable cars instead. He brought you countless treats. He⊠cared for you more than ever before.
And then you found out you were pregnant. You didnât know how to tell Sylus, because you couldnât imagine what his reaction would be. But he exceeded all your expectations. You could truly call yourself a princess.
Unexpectedly, he turned your bedroom into a little paradise, filled with everything you could possibly need. Sylus suddenly started working from home and tried to spend as much time with you as possible.
He kept trying to convince you to take your maternity leave early, so you wouldnât have to stress at work and could rest more. He would be deeply upset if you refused, but he wouldnât stop you by force (even if he very much wanted to).
Either way, once the moment came that you finally stayed home, he wouldnât leave your side for even a second, constantly hugging you from behind, his hands resting on your stomach. He would also lean in and breathe you in, trying to figure out the babyâs gender from your scent in the early months.
You got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, reaching for the cereal box on the top shelf. You stood on your tiptoes, stretching out your hand, when suddenly you felt large arms wrapping around you from behind.
âWhat are you looking for, princess?â Sylus murmured into your neck, pulling you into his embrace.
âCereal, I want cereal with milk,â you mumbled quickly, reaching for the box again.
âWhy didnât you call me? I can make you the best cereal in the world.â
Sylus grabbed the box himself, poured it into a big mug, and then filled it with milk. He set it all down in front of you at the table and sat across from you, simply watching you.
Sylus could spend hours lying in bed with you among a pile of pillows, holding you close, listening to whatever you wanted to tell him â or just watching movies together.
If you wanted something, he would make it happen instantly. Hungry? Heâd already called and paid ridiculous money to have, ten minutes later, a plate of whatever you could possibly imagine placed in front of you.
You sat up in bed. It was around two in the morning. It felt so silly â you had woken up with a sudden craving for shrimp risotto. You had never even eaten shrimp before!
Beside you came a soft rustle, and Sylus sat up. âWhatâs wrong?â You indignantly told him about shrimp, rice, and the strange dream you had.
One phone call later, about fifteen minutes passed, and you were sitting in the kitchen watching Sylus check the doneness of the rice and the color of the shrimp, before slicing a lemon into wedges. For you, he was ready to do absolutely anything.
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I canât stop thinking about Sylus with dragon instincts and a pregnant reader. Heâd constantly ask if everythingâs okay, trying to make the coziest, most comfortable nest in the bedroom, and then get all sulky if the reader dares to leave it. And of course, heâd keep sniffing around, trying to figure out the babyâs gender just from their scent. I wonât be able to live in peace until I write about this.
I really loved the idea of writing about the reader spending Sylusâs money! âš I might even make a second part where Sylus actually goes shopping with you himself! If I go into detail with it, Iâll definitely tag you! đ
đž request is here
please enjoy... âĄ
Sylus loved nothing more than when you spent his money. He was richâunimaginably richâso much so that no matter how much you spent, the gold would never run dry. And oh, if only you knew just how much he adored watching you spend it.
He had treasures beyond measure, treasures heâd never share with anyone but you. Every single one of them was yours to do with as you pleased. And every trinket you bought, no matter how small, instantly became a treasure in his eyes. Was it diamond earrings? A beautiful gown? An expensive pair of trousers? Oh, even if you came home with nothing more than an armful of plush toys, he would still be delighted.
And if, in his opinion, you hadnât spent enough, he would simply whisk you awayâto a fine restaurant, or perhaps a weekend in some exotic corner of the world, should fancy dinners not be to your taste.
Several messages pinged onto Sylusâs phone, each alerting him that large sums had been withdrawn from his card. He paid them no mind, calmly continuing to read the documents spread across his desk. After a while, the front door banged shut, followed by loud laughterâand then, without even knocking, you burst into his office, with Luke and Kieran trailing behind, arms full of bags.
âSylus! Look what I bought for Mephy!â you exclaimed, pulling an enormous plush raven with a pink bow out of the largest bag. âI bought him a bride!â Luke and Kieran couldnât stop giggling, while Mephisto flapped excitedly around his new toy.
âYou spoil him far too much,â Sylus remarked with a smile.
âI spoil you too!â you said proudly, tilting your chin as you pulled another bag closer. From it, you produced a small kitten figurine with diamond-bright eyes and placed it carefully on his desk.
Sylus examined the little kitten with unusual attention, but before you could notice, you turned away and pulled out two identical black bracelets, each set with a crimson stone. âAnd these are for you twoâfor helping me carry everything,â you said, handing them to the twins.
At that, Sylus raised a brow, and the brothers quickly made their exit. The moment you turned back, Sylus wrapped his arms around you from behind. His voice was low, warm against your ear.
âAnd what little treasures did my kitten buy for herself?â
One by one, you showed him the jewelry, the figurines, the clothesâall the things you had bought, every single pieceâŠ
masterlist đž please don't translate or copy without permission
đ A little help can make a big difference for my family. You can see here how to support us here
