#sylus lore

[heressya]

Dying together with your vampire lover

[feastofdesires]

Sylus yearns for your gentleness.

As much as he enjoys indulging in more chaotic, primal, driven activities, there was a hunger for the softer things.

This yearning comes from somewhere deep and ancient. This notion that every living being needs tenderness and care regardless of affiliation. No one wanted sylus in this world. No one, that is, except for you. The one who bound themself to a fiend like him of their own volition. The one who beheld him in the moments of shared demise across the cosmos, and did so with love.

He is a beast. A fiend. A monster in all manner of ways. These baser desires are easy to fulfill. Violence, conquest, sex- it’s all always been at his fingertips. Monsters don’t need things like shared smiles, intertwining hands, and brevity.

So why is it that his heart races and his skin reddens when you so lovingly take on the task of washing his body in a bath for no other reason than wanting to? You’re not even in the bath yourself. Said you didn’t want to, but that he needed to clean up after some dirty work and you wanted to be the one to do it.

All the major wounds from gun fighting and debris are mere surface level scratches indistinguishable from the actual scratches and scrapes. You still gently scolded him for being so rough on himself because to you, every little scratch was a crime; marks on someone precious to you that weren’t carved into his flesh yourself.

The bite of the soap on a terry cloth wash rag was nothing when Sylus could only focus on the sensation of your persistent pressure. The way it lightened when running the cloth over these surface wounds or paused in an area to massage muscles you found slightly too tight.

It’s these moments of quiet gentleness that leave Sylus in uncharted waters. That deeply hidden, fragile part of himself that he regularly dismissed as existing at all. The core of a monster that still, at one point, had been a boy. A boy forced to fight to exist. To justify his presence in this life and the next by force because all other things viewed his persistence as transgression.

Your fingers working the lather of shampoo through his white hair lulled his eyes to close, defenses lowering to nothing. A sigh left him that he didn’t even know he had in him while leaning backing to the porcelain tub and you. He was definitely getting your clothes wet and sudsy, but he could feel the way you were slightly buzzing with giggles. It made something inside him pleasantly ache.

“What?” He groused, not bothering to move or open an eye.

“Nothing. You’re just cute.” You sigh, slowly rinsing the soap from his hair and skin. “Acting all grumpy that I wasn’t going to take a bath too, then being a big kitty-cat enjoying the pampering.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He delivered with a dry deadpan before capturing your hand that was trailing back up his chest. His lips tenderly caressed your inner wrist. Then your palm. Then he was nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Sure.” You give him. He can hear the smile in your voice. The love sewn into every word.

“I love you” he murmurs into your palm, kissing the damp skin once more. He hears your voice catch.

It’s not like he isn’t forthcoming with his adoration, but he often prefers to show his devotion rather than say the words. Sometimes, nothing but the words will do.

“You can’t just say stuff like that out of no where.” You bluster quietly, pinching his cheek in desperation to recover from your own flustering.

“It’s not out of no where.” He insists without expanding on it further.

You huff behind him, withdrawing. It’s foreign- this jolting desperation for you to stay. It’s his overbearing self control that lets you slip away, even when it’s painful. It’s because you only pulled away to grab a fluffy towel.

Drying him off while the tub drained was a challenge with his height, so he sits on the edge so you can stand between his knees to dry off his short hair. His arms hug around your waist when he couldn’t hold back his longing any longer.

“I love you too.” You murmur back to him when you’re mid-ruffle of his white strands. “Let me do this more often, hm? You’re always taking care of me, and I love that. It makes me feel wanted and safe.”

You drape the towel over his shoulders to take his cheeks in your hands, thumbs rubbing into his cheekbones. He meets your stare with something foreign and fragile dwelling on the surface.

“I desire to have you enjoy these same feelings. And you promised to fulfill all my desires. So you have to let me.” Your small grin is full of smug pride. He loves it.

“I guess I have no choice.” He agrees.

“Nope.” You pop the “p” before resuming your drying of his skin before moving on to rubbing ointment into the tiny injuries on his skin, dressing him, and then laying him down in bed and climbing on top of him to be his blanket.

When he rolls the two of you to make you his pillow, you can’t stop the giggles. By the time they subside, you note his breathing has already deepened. Asleep. Normally it takes over an hour for him to drift off. He must’ve really enjoyed it. More than he revealed. Silly man. You should’ve tried this sooner.

[crazykinkrottenkiwi]

PRIICELESS ~ TESTING VER.

synopsis Decided to steal the most expensive egg? He'd breed the shit out of you with his own eggs.

pairing Yandere Dragon!Sylus × Thief!F!Reader

genre Dark Fantasy • Yandere • Dark Romance • Horror

word count 1.2k

content warnings MDNI • non-con elements • captivity • obsession • manipulation • violence • breeding themes

A/N testing work ♡ This is one of three ideas I'm testing out right now. If this one does well, I'll continue it as a full series! So for now, consider this Part One. I'm basically testing the waters before I commit to the other parts.🧍🏻‍♂️

You stepped in front of the locked door, pulling out the key you'd already managed to steal. Your fingers carefully slipped it into the lock, your tongue poking out slightly as you focused entirely on getting it open. You couldn't tell if the key was really that heavy or if your own body was somehow getting heavier with every passing second. One twist. Three. Six. Finally, there was a soft click, and your eyes immediately lit up.

“Yes!” you whispered, excitement flashing across your face as you grabbed the handle, only to suddenly notice something sitting on your shoulder. You slowly turned your head to the right.

A raven.

“What the—?!” You jumped so violently that the raven instantly took flight, disappearing down the corridor. Your body suddenly felt normal again, but your heart was pounding as you stared after it with a deep frown. “What the hell is that thing doing here…?” you murmured, watching the direction it had vanished before finally turning back toward the door. Whatever. You'd already come this far.

You pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was colder than you'd expected. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness until they landed on the enormous glass enclosure standing in the center of the room. Inside it was an egg.

Not an ordinary egg, either. It was huge, almost reaching your waist, its dark surface covered in strange, intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer beneath the faint light. Thick restraints surrounded the glass, securing the enclosure from every possible angle. You stared at it in silence, your eyes gleaming as you whispered, “This is going to change my life—”

—

"n.. noo.. no mwore..!"

Another hot spurt of thick semen floods your womb, the sticky load pumping deep as the unknown man with white hair and red eyes slams his hips forward. His massive cock drives straight into your cervix, the bulbous head battering that sensitive spot over and over while your pussy clenches and spasms around his throbbing shaft in another shattering orgasm. Juices squirt out around his girth, soaking his balls as they slap wetly against your ass.

"So this is what a human thief looks like up close.." he growls, voice rough with lust, his red eyes locked on your face twisted in overwhelming pleasure. His white hair falls across his forehead as he pounds harder, each thrust forcing more of his cum to slosh inside your overfilled belly. "You'll continue my legacy.."

He pulls back only to ram in again, the fat head of his cock kissing your womb with every brutal stroke. "I'll breed you and fill you up with the most expensive thing ever.." His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider so he can bury every inch of his veiny cock into your dripping cunt. "Wouldn't you want that sweetheart?"

"mmph- noo..." Your walls flutter and squeeze, milking him as he marks your neck with bites and sucks, leaving dark hickeys while his dick kisses your deepest core. "Shh... roll out your tongue," he commands, and when you obey he leans down to spit directly into your open mouth before claiming your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue shoving in as his cock fucks the shit out of your pussy. Wet sounds fill the air—skin slapping, cum squelching, your moans muffled against his mouth.

"Well.. it doesn't matter anymore.. you'll gladly take what I give you." He breaks the kiss, hips never slowing, his cock pistoning in and out of your cum-slick hole. One hand slides down to your belly, pressing firmly on the visible bulge where his dick stretches you from inside. The pressure makes you cry out, another gush of slick and semen leaking around his base as he grinds deep.

"Mhm…ine..." he murmurs, fingers rubbing the swollen mound while his cock pulses and unloads yet another heavy rope of seed straight into your womb.

His thick cock keeps slamming into your soaked pussy from behind now. Your belly already feels bloated and full, the sloshing load making wet squelching noises with every brutal thrust while his balls slap hard against your clit. “p-pleaswe.. forgive meh!... w.. won't steal—"

"....” The white-haired man grunts low, red eyes burning into your back as he grips your hips and yanks you back onto his pulsing shaft. “Too late, little thief. You should've thought about that before taking what wasn't yours.”

Suddenly the memory slams into you mid-thrust. Your boss leaning over the table that night, voice low and serious. "The egg is worth more than anything you've ever stolen. You get in, take it, and get out. That's all."

He never once mentioned this man...

The realization dies in your thoughts as the man's cock kisses your cervix again and again. Oh shit. The raven that watched you steal the egg. The strange heaviness in your body right after. The egg itself. All of it connects to this creature currently rearranging your guts with his massive dick.

You glance back at him, eyes wide, and he notices instantly. One hand shoots up to fist your hair, yanking your head back hard so your spine arches and his cock drives even deeper. “Already distracted? That's not like you." he snarls, then slams forward again, pounding the cum deeper while his free hand reaches under to rub your swollen clit. “Thought thieves were supposed to be more careful.”

He spits on your asshole and rubs it in with his thumb, still yanking your hair as he fucks load after load into your overfilled pussy. Your walls clench and flutter around his veiny shaft, milking him for more as he grinds the fat head against your womb entrance. "Feel that bulge? That's my seed claiming you. Gonna keep you like this until you're dripping nothing but me."

Another heavy spurt floods your core, forcing a gush of mixed juices to spray out around his pistoning cock. “Your employer left out a few important details, didn't he?” He laughs darkly and pulls your hair tighter, forcing your mouth open so he can lean over and spit into it again before kissing you messy and rough while his hips never stop jackhammering. "Good girl. Now squeeze that pussy and thank me for filling you. Yeah?”

—

A dimly lit office remained unusually quiet. A thick stack of bills rested across the wooden desk, each note being counted slowly between the man's fingers.

The door creaked open.

“Boss?”

He didn't look up, too focused on the money in front of him. “What?”

The man hesitated, glancing toward the empty chair nearby. “What about the girl?”

“Quiet.”

“But she—”

A sigh escaped him as another bill joined the growing pile.

“Did you…” The man's voice dropped. “Did you sell her?”

The counting finally stopped. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then the boss leaned back in his chair, looking down at the money with a faint, satisfied smile.

“For a good amount.”

~more?

[ladyknightz]

there it is. that’s…that’s just them. that’s the fundamental meat of their relationship. it’s…yeah. god. ‘i know i’m insane. but i see the lunatic in you for loving it and staying with me and at times encouraging it just as i do you. there’s a little monster in you kicking and screaming and waiting to thrive and i’ll pull it out with the most tender love and care you deserve because you deserve to be a little batshit after everything that has been done to you- everything that has been done to separate us.’ FUCK

[orphicmusings]

i just love love and deepspace so much because the writers inadvertently subvert what is arguably the most popular trope in romance right now that is absolutely plaguing the genre: the callous, cold, (borderline) abusive mafia boss/bad boy/criminal of some kind. sylus is, at first glance, expected to follow all the ten booktok commandments of this trope, like he looks like what you’re supposed to picture when these books are brought up. he comes into the story mysterious, curt, domineering, almost to lull you into an expectation of where this is going. you’ve seen this before, it’s the most popular romance trope of the decade after all, the red flag booktok biker bad boy.

but instead, within literally a few chapters, he is so fucking tender. he is the most emotionally secure out of all the love interests. he looks at our character with nothing but absolute softness and warmth in his eyes. he is ruthless and he is a killer, but our character will know absolutely nothing but gentleness with him from here on out. even canonically in the bedroom, too, what you would expect from this booktok bad boy archetype is a dominant man who relies on violent and/or misogynistic sexual beliefs to fulfill his pleasure; but instead he submits, maybe not in the way you’re thinking of, but he truly gives himself over to our character, all of him on a silver platter. he’s a one woman man (for centuries), constantly asking for confirmation, going slowly with gentle hands, taking the time to imprint nothing but love and care with them. he’s secure in his masculinity, not possessive, protective yes but still knows and trusts that his lover can handle herself. in fact, loves the fact that she can handle herself, especially when up against him. (the man is canonically a bratty sub and i will die on that hill but that’s neither here nor there.)

sylus is the breath of fresh air that the heterosexual genre of romance media desperately needs.

[linkons-most-wanted]

YOU GUYS. Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but... look at this.

Magnum Opus:

MC: It's a work of art. Whoever created this must be a true master of their craft. Sylus: That so? Surely the virtuoso is fond of her magnum opus?

Beyond Cloudfall Ch 4:

MC: You have no intention of disguising yourself? Sylus: No need. No one would believe a fiend would wander around a market. Besides, everyone sees a fiend differently--some see ugliness, others see horror, cruelty… What they see isn't me. They only see their own hearts. I hold up a mirror from a stall. It reflects the face of the dragon. MC: Can you guess what I see when I look at you? He lowers the mirror as if he heard a childish joke. He leans closer. Sylus: At the very least, I'm a lot more handsome than I was depicted in that Fiend-Slaying God mural.

Sylus may be implying that MC is literally responsible for him looking the way that he does. In the main story timeline, Sylus seems to have a stable appearance as we see him through multiple POVs in main story content and World Underneath stories.

It doesn't seem like a stretch that when MC curses him to live on, this curse "locks in" his appearance as... the way she sees him. 🥹

Even if it's not literally true, he knows on a deep level that if she sees him as beautiful, it's a reflection of her own heart. Seeing him how she does? That's her own creation.

I WILL NOT RECOVER.

[maimaily]

Sylus's new outfit is very important to me because:

1. White is usually not a color associated with him. White has always symbolized purity and innocence (for Western cultures), but also mourning or death in Oriental cultures. His black and red visuals are not completely absent in this myth, but he stands out with such a contrasting color.

2. Every stain becomes scandalous on such a pristine garment, and if we're talking about stains involving blood, it becomes even more curious.

3. His outfit clearly denotes a high social class, elegance, and refinement. However, I can't be the only one who was reminded of Xavier's suit when I saw his attire.

Coincidence? Probably! But I love a good theory :)

[heressya]

My dragon never left.