Author's note: Ah, yes. The author's once-a-month post. Headcanons, I guess? Pretty short. These are just my thoughts, enjoy! (I say, with an exclamation mark, as if this isn't sorta gut-wrenching.)
Do you think Sylus holds you the same way while sleeping as the way you both passed away in each other's arms in SWF myth because he hopes that—when you stir awake, half-asleep still—you'd somehow catch a glimpse of him as the Archfiend and not current-life Sylus?
What if Dragon Sylus's horns are smaller than they should be because he kept cutting them when he was younger and that stunted their growth?
SHYLUS. Shylus canon... Do you think he has to hype himself up before asking you to do literally anything? Like imagine before a date he's standing in front of a mirror and talking to Mephisto about it.
Follow-up to that; Sylus is shy and afraid. It makes him hesitant. He's scared that you cannot reconcile him—your Sylus—and the fiend he believes himself to be. Terrified, really, of your rejection despite wholeheartedly believing himself undeserving of any sort of softness your world may offer him.
I think he actually has a very low self-esteem due to all the trauma he experienced as a child. The only thing he takes pride in about himself is his power and strength. He knows they hold weight. But to believe in himself as a person, more than a monster? He thinks it is a ridiculous notion.
Bonus:
The twins (bless our sweet boys Luke and Kieran) almost had a heart attack when they first saw Sylus being soft to you. So stunned they could neither move nor talk for at least ten minutes. The way he had switched from “boss mode” to speaking to you in such a careful tone was jarring. Yes, they were kind of salty afterwards. Such unfair treatment from their adoptive father boss!
Synopsis: You dislike asking for help. But after the one time you do, Sylus discovers that he enjoys your praise.
Warnings: None, this is straight up fluff. Not proofread, though.
Author's note: Draft from June 2025 LMFAO. Sorry if this is like... Bad. I'm rusty, I fear. 😔
The first time it happened, you had thought nothing of it. Sylus had only helped you with a simple problem: opening a jar. The damned thing was sealed shut no matter how hard you twisted and pulled at the lid. Even attempting to pry it open with utensils did nothing to budge the lid. You almost thought it had been glued shut—some prank by Luke and Kieran to bring a little inconvenience to your day for the fun of it.
Before you truly gave up and settled on another option for a toast spread, you had one last thing to try. Who else could open a stubborn jar if not your strong, very capable lover, Sylus? You probably should have done that from the start, honestly... But sometimes asking for help is hard. Embarrassing. And a wound to your dignity that you so stubbornly try to save.
With a sigh, your shoulders sag as you look back to the living room. Sylus is on the leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other as his index finger taps rhythmically on his temple. On the coffee table sits a laptop, the drone of some business man sounds from its speakers. They're in a meeting, and Sylus looks bored out of his mind. It wouldn't hurt to pop in for a second... You're sure he wouldn't mind.
Sauntering over with the accursed jar of strawberry jam in hand, you stop just before you could be seen on camera, keeping your identity anonymous. Sylus had already started to look up when you walked over, yet only stared in momentary confusion as you held out the jar. It takes a second before it clicks in his head what you're asking for—and he chuckles as he takes the jar from your hand.
One twist and Sylus is already handing it back to you. He opened it with ease, annoyingly so. But he did help, and at this point you're too hungry to bother sulking at him for laughing at you. Besides, you can't deny that you're thrilled. Unable to resist beaming at him for fulfilling such a simple request, you blow him kisses instead of leaning in to actually kiss him.
Not that you don't want to but his business partner on the other side of the laptop screen would see you, and Sylus prefers you out of his dealings for your safety. Instead, you opt to mouth a thank you to him. Along with an added bonus of praising his strength and telling him that he's doing a good job enduring his meeting. You don't think much of it and head back into the kitchen for your much anticipated toast.
Unfortunately, that means you turned away too quickly to see him freeze up for a split-second before regaining his composure. His eyes widen just the slightest, lips parting as his breath catches as if he wanted to say something but lost his train of thought. There's a flush on his skin now, rosy heat creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears. Now he truly is unable to focus.
—
Ever since that day, you had begun to notice Sylus... Hovering nearby whenever you do something. More often than not, he swoops in to take over as soon as you begin to struggle. Whether it's reaching for objects at high places, picking up something from the store that you forgot, or the most mundane task you really don't feel like doing, he always takes it from your hands before you can even think of asking for his help. It's relieving. It's suspicious.
You're sitting side-by-side on the floor of his armory today, helping him with gun maintenance. Sylus had already told you that you didn't need to, yet you insisted because this is still a way to spend time with him. However... You've been at it for a while. Curse his extensive collection. Your neck and shoulders are tense, a dull ache seizing the muscles from being hunched over.
As soon as a sigh escapes your lips, Sylus is reaching out, and the gun you were cleaning is out of your hands by the next blink. His fingers are running up and down your aching spots, relieving it with pressure. There is it again. You didn't even voice out a complaint, and he's already taking care of the problem. When you meet his gaze, his crimson eyes look at you expectantly. A certain longing that gives him away when he wants something.
“Why... Are you looking at me like that?” You ask, eyes narrowing.
“Like what, sweetie? I'm only trying to help.” Sylus drawls, head tilted just slightly.
Yeah, he definitely wants something.
“Sylus. You've been following me around the base like a stray puppy for a few days now. Spit it out.”
At that, he seems to deflate. Only you would compare the feared leader of Onychinus to a puppy. But he doesn't want that. Sylus wants you to see him as someone reliable. Dependable when needed. To be the one you seek out when problems arise because he desperately wants to hear your approval of him being a good partner for you.
“You... seem to have trouble asking for assistance. And I... Simply want to be of use to you. Won't you indulge me, my dear?” He admits, an awkward smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
Oh. Oh.
“Sylus do you—” You pause, the question sounds a little embarrassing in your head but you decide to ask anyway, “like it when I... Praise you...?”
The way Sylus averts his gaze tells you everything you need to know. This behemoth of a man was doing everything he could think of just to hear a few honeyed words from you as though his life depended on it. Adorable, you wanted to say. Really, he could have just asked you instead of feeling the need to earn it. You would have done it in a heartbeat.
Your hands move faster than your thoughts, palms cupping his face and bringing him closer to you.
“My beloved. My sweet, adorable, unbelievable heart. You are more than ‘of use’ to me. You're a wonderful partner and the only one I trust my heart with. You're doing good.”
Meanwhile, Sylus thinks his heart might give out. Given his abnormally fast-beating heart, he has never experienced his heart race. This ache, he thinks, might be the closest thing. Deep within his soul he believes a fiend could never be loved. But if someone as pure as you, who he reflects, does it as easily as breathing, then who is he to say otherwise?
Greetings dear visitors, my name is Doll. I tend to go by Aiko as well. I am 18 years old, and my pronouns are she/her + it/its. My gender is a little complicated to explain, so I will simply go with ‘fem-presenting doll’ (dollgender, I suppose). I am also lith/cupio-romantic, asexual, and ambiamorous.
➜ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠?
This blog is dedicated to Sylus from Love and Deepspace. I write fanfiction, my thoughts and feelings for him, and maybe throw in a sprinkle or two of screenshots from my gameplay. Which means, it is a safe space for all otome players and especially Sylus lovers.
➜ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬.
I write only for Sylus, as he is my main, and I know him the best out of all the love interests. The things I write include fluff, angst, suggestive, and potentially dark topics (e.g; yandere) but I will not write smut. Feel free to ask if I'll write a certain thing before requesting!
➜ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 (dni, asks, etc.).
I am very open to asks! As long as you are respectful, you are welcome. Chatting, wanting to be friends, asking me questions, etc. I don't mind. Perhaps I could get my husband to join as well (note: this user is a yume).
As for my DNI, the basics:
Pro/dark shippers, homo/transphobic, NSFW accounts, ableists, radqueers, etc. + Preferably no one under 16. Generative AI supporters.
Oh, I don't know. Maybe it is Sylus who literally thinks through every possible route and outcome because of his lifestyle. Because otherwise, he would not be where he is. If he doesn't then he is risking his position at the top and would be vulnerable; susceptible to attacks. And yet despite this aspect of him being so ingrained in his head, he never once thought that his literal soulmate would forget him— consequently, how to love him when she was the one who taught him love and humanity.
When you can see the anguish crossing his features, constricting his lungs and plaguing his mind. Sylus who was so prepared to reunite with his dearest love with hopes of a better life together, only to have his heart crushed. Only to be reminded again when someone else confirmed what he desperately wished was not the truth. Then having to start from scratch with the little knowledge of companionship taught by the very person who does not remember.
And he thinks to himself; how has love blinded him so, that did he not expect such a possibility about the one he lives for?
Imagine being Sylus's wife. Him putting a ring on it so you can be domestic with him in every way possible. Don't say you wouldn't learn how to take care of Sylus's weapons. How to care for his vinyl records so you can look after his collections while he's away. That you wouldn't learn Mephisto's mechanics so you can help with the maintenance of your little crow child. Even learning about motorcycles and cars for Sylus too.
Perhaps you would be up at 3am baking for him in his clothes. Learn about classical music and how to dance along to it so you can surprise him with a dance in the kitchen while you wait for cupcakes to cool. Push through the queasiness so you know how to treat wounds for him when his Evol has been working overdrive and can't heal him anymore. Kiss his hands every night and caress them to remind him that beneath it all— past the violence forced onto his shoulders— he is more human than the ones who call him a fiend.
Push your body to its limits just so Sylus can take a break. So that when it's his turn to crumble you can embrace every weight. And he would hate for you to see him in such a state— hate to be your burden— but how could he argue when all you want is for him to rely on you? Take on the cleaning; endure hours of bandaging wounds; look after his family; if that means he can, for once, have a little bit of peace. To be gentle for him if that's what he needs. To be his solace.
I know Sylus said he wears sunglasses to “avoid eye contact with insignificant people”. But aside from that and the obvious dislike of sunlight, what if another reason is because his eyes are the most expressive part of him and he knows. Like, think about it. He can control his body language so well, yet his face— especially his eyes— always betray him no matter how hard he tries. So he uses sunglasses to hide this vulnerability.
Notes: sorry for dying I’m back now, I got sick, and I hate this respectfully I will write a better piece once I’m feeling better.
Warning: mentions of dead deers, Beast!Sylus.
The first time you saw Sylus, you thought you were going to die.
Not because he attacked you. No—he stood still at the edge of the clearing, wings half-folded, steam rising from his nostrils. His skin shimmered like obsidian, black horns curving back over a crown of tangled white hair. He was… massive. Nearly seven or more feet of muscle, talons, and silent, menacing power.
He approached one day while you were outside, picking some carrots from your little farm outside of your cottage house.
And he dropped a dead deer at your feet.
Just—thump. Right there. Legs curled awkwardly, neck broken, but it was still warm.
You stood frozen, eyes flicking from the deer to the dragon-man and back again. He said nothing. Just stared, red eyes unblinking, tail twitching like he was waiting for something.
“…Do you… want me to cook it?” you asked weakly.
He blinked. Once. Then turned and vanished into the trees.
The second time, it was gold.
He didn’t make a sound at dawn. You just stepped out of your cottage one morning and there it was: a heap of raw gold nuggets and coins, like someone robbed an entire mountain.
You stood on the porch with your tea, staring at the glittering pile and blinking hard.
“…Is this a trap? Or maybe—maybe the forest spirits finally accepted my offerings of mushroom stew.”
You knelt down to inspect the coins. They were ancient. Some of them had runes you didn’t recognize. One had a dragon engraved on it. You poked it.
A low growl rumbled behind you.
You jumped, turning to find him again—towering, hulking, silent. Red eyes fixed on you.
“You again?” you whispered. “Okay, this is… this is getting a little weird.”
He stepped closer. You backed up.
“Did you lose this?” you asked, pointing at the gold. You knew how much dragons like treasures or shiny things, and getting barbecued by a dragon was not on your to do list this morning. “I can… help you carry it back?”
He stared. Then, slowly, he said, “Take it.”
You hesitated. “I mean, I guess I could keep a few—”
His wings twitched. “Take it.”
“…Okay.”
You picked up one coin.
He exhaled hard through his nose, clearly unimpressed. With a frustrated snort, he turned and walked off again, stomping like the very earth offended him.
The third time it happened, it was rocks—shiny ones. Polished quartz, opal, raw moonstone, the kind of stones that sparkled like water under moonlight. You found them lined across your windowsill one morning, arranged carefully as if someone had studied where the light hit best.
You sighed, fingers brushing over the smooth surfaces
“This again…”
The forest was silent behind you—but not for long.
A rustle. Then heavy, deliberate footsteps. Heat crawled up your spine before you even turned.
And there he was.
Sylus.
Towering, wings partially unfurled, horns gleaming in the dappled light. White hair tangled from wind and weather. Red eyes, burning like coals, locked on you.
He stood still. Staring.
You stared back, heart stuttering in your chest. “You again…”
He didn’t speak, not at first. He just nodded to the rocks with a barely perceptible tilt of his head.
“You brought these?” you asked, voice unsure.
He exhaled heavily, a deep sound from the pit of his chest. Then, in that low, growling voice, he said,
“Take them.”
You hesitated, brows furrowing. “They’re… beautiful, but why do you keep bringing me things? The deer, the gold, now these—”
“You not… understand?” he asked slowly.
You scratched the back of your head, awkward. “Understand what?”
He stared at you, expression unreadable, and then sighed—deeply. He looked down, broad shoulders slumping just a bit. Like a man who had tried very hard to follow the sacred rites of his kind and was now at the end of his rope.
Was he really this doomed?
“You are human,” he muttered. “But… pretty.”
Your cheeks flushed. “Um… thanks?”
He looked up again, eyes intense. “Good scent. Good eyes. I like your laugh.”
That only made it worse. Your heart kicked up in your chest.
“I brought prey. I brought gold. I brought treasure. I make nest warm. You live in it. You eat. You make funny noises when happy.” He stepped closer, voice rough, sincere. “I protect you. I fly over your roof at night. I scent-mark the trees so no male gets close.”
“You… what?”
He blinked once. “You are my mate.”
You froze.
“M-Mate?”
“Yes.”
Your lips parted, but no sound came out. A hundred things crashed into each other in your brain. The gifts. The constant watching. The deer. The way he always appeared when you left your cabin too far behind.
“Wait,” you said softly. “The deer was… a courtship gift?”
He nodded.
“And the gold?”
“A dowry.”
“…The rocks?”
“For your nest.”
“…Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’ve been accidentally accepting your… your dragon proposal this whole time.”
His tail flicked. “Yes.”
You groaned, covering your face. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I am dragon,” he said, almost stubborn. “I bring gifts. You are meant to understand.”
You peeked at him between your fingers. “Well, we’re very different, because I just thought I was being haunted by a very generous forest spirit.”
His nostrils flared. “I am not a spirit. I am Sylus. And I chose you.”
Your chest tightened at how… earnest he sounded. There was no guile, no smooth charm. Just raw, beast-like devotion. He’d been courting you the only way he knew how. And you’d been accepting everything without a clue.
“You said I’m your mate,” you said carefully. “But what if I don’t feel… ready for that?”
His eyes flickered. “Then I wait.”
You blinked.
“I do not take,” he said. “I give. Always. Until you give back.”
You stared up at him. “Even if it takes years for me?”
“I live long. I can wait.”
Your heart felt too big for your chest.
Then you reached out—slow, cautious, and brushed your fingers over the back of his hand.
His breath caught.
“…I’m not saying yes,” you whispered. “But I’m not saying no.”
His wings twitched slightly, his tail curling around your porch like a barrier. You half expected him to roar or make some triumphant noise, but instead He lowered his head to your hand, and pressed his warm, scaly forehead to your palm.
A growl, low and soft, rumbled from his throat.
It sounded like a purr.
Weeks later…
You sat on your porch, legs tucked under you, a blanket over your lap. The shiny stones had been arranged into a little circle beside you. A bowl of soup sat nearby.
A shadow passed overhead, followed by a familiar gust of heat and wind.
Sylus landed quietly for someone his size. He approached slowly, claws tapping the wood.
“You are back” you smiled.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out something small—clumsy, handmade. A necklace you’d woven with leather cord, threaded with one of the moonstones he’d brought.
You held it out, and he stared, surprised.
“You said dragons give. But I want to give something too.”
He took it, slowly, like he thought it might disappear. His claw curled around it carefully.
Then, with deep reverence, he tied it around one of his horns.
“I will never remove it,” he said.
You laughed softly and leaned back against his warm side as he sat beside you.
You still weren’t sure where this path would lead.
Evol is Love per the established laws of this in MLQC the original otome where LADS is inspired from. But there evolvers are genetically different so there's a lot of science stuff. Will be fun to see how much of MLQC crosses over to Deepspace
OH that's so fun to know! At least my rambling isn't completely wrong. I think? I never played MLQC (or have any knowledge of the game, for that matter). I would really like to see the similarities and differences of the concept. Although I'm not big on science stuff, I find it interesting.
my hc is that Sylus doesn’t believe that a single word like love or i love you is enough to convey even a fraction of what he feels. it’s too small, too limited. his emotions are so vast, so overwhelming to be boxed into simple phrases.
that’s why he speaks the way he does, why every compliment or casual reassurance sounds like poetry. it’s simply the only way he knows how to express something that words could never fully hold.
Hear me out, bear with me for a second. I have been out the whole day so I DEFINITELY do not make sense and I am delusional + overthinking. Very far-fetched idea, I think.
I need you to agree that Evol = Love for the sake of this post.
I know Sylus's evol comes from his draconic powers in his past life but I'm unsure what it's supposed to represent. Energy. It can be taken as life— MC bringing life into his world. Or that, since energy cannot be destroyed and can only be converted from one form to another, MC brought changed into his life.
AUGH. MC could resonate her evol (basically, reciprocate love) just fine with the other LIs. But with Sylus, she couldn't do that at all. Sylus could not ferl her love. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW GUT WRENCHING THAT IS TO ME?
But but but—
He could feel a trace of her evol. VERY faintly and he said it was weak. Something along the lines of “...your evol's been reduced to this.” I can't really remember (note: I am too lazy to reread Long Awaited Revelry again). And when he recognized that MC was, in fact, his literal soulmate, you can see a slight upturn of his lips. Barely there smile.
And MC's first instinct after Sylus forced her to pull the trigger is to put her hands over the gunshot wound like she did when she stabbed Dragon!Sylus. Even when she had every intention of killing him; hatred formed from the assumption that he had killed her only family and wanted to avenge them. MC didn't know, but her soul did and it wanted to save her dragon.