I go by ‘Z’ she/her pronouns. Sitting pretty at 30, Black and Bi. This is just a little side-blog since I found myself back here on this hellsite. Will mostly just be for reading fics and not so sfw thoughts.
FOR ME, IT WILL ALWAYS BE YOU - Sylus x Non MC! ( Part 6 )
Summery: you find yourself in lads universe after a particularly close interaction with truck kun. How does life go from here after arriving in the N109 zone leaders backyard when MC hasn’t arrived yet?
Disclaimer, Sylus might be OOC, since I'm not very good at writing so bear with me. This will be multiple parts!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
Something gnawed at him.
A feeling of unease he wasn’t able to shake. It was very uncharacteristic of him and it made his mind wander even when walking next to MC. They still hadn’t made any progress even after weeks.
The love he once held for her had dulled to a soft murmur, only held alive by the curse her past self inflicted on him. This constant cycle of love, pain and death had long since become something he started dreading. He no longer had the energy to entertain this façade, so instead, he tried to get her to remember, so she could finally break this binding curse and set him free.
A notification from his phone made him snap out of his train of thought.
He would’ve been happy seeing you used his card, but he heard you leave, and he’s seen you deteriorate these past weeks. He knew he should’ve spoken up. Knew he was breaking something that had yet to start.
Yet he didn’t know how to explain. “Hey, this is my soulmate, and I'm literally, sharing half a soul so I cannot escape my fate with her!” And expect you to understand? No. He was going to fix this before things could get out of hand.
Or so he thought. He thought seeing where you were would put him at ease, but the notification only rooted the feeling of dread deeper, seeping into his very being.
Something was wrong, and he was going to figure out what it was. He excuses himself and left MC dumbfounded as he sent Mephisto flying to the bar and called Luke and Kieran instructing them to figure out your whereabouts.
He willed himself to calm down. Nothing was wrong, you just decided to get a drink. He didn’t even blame you, he was acting like a total dick and he knew it, but this was new to him too. He didn’t expect to fall for you, a mere mortal, so utterly and pathetically normal. Yet fall for you he did. You turned his life upside down in a way he hadn’t realised he craved. No longer bound by fate, revelling in the normalcy.
He should’ve known better. He had almost hoped MC wouldn’t show up, but to his utter dismay she did, and with her arrival, she threw everything upside down for the worse. His heart ached seeing you loose yourself more and more every single day, yet unable to explain himself, he spent more and more time with MC to try and get her to break the curse. But she wasn’t cooperating. Somehow, in this damned timeline, she had chosen another man, leaving him alone with this curse, destined to die by her hand yet again.
But he wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. So he worked harder, growing more impatient by the day. It had irked him, he was turning into someone he no longer recognised, or, to put it frankly, was scared to recognise. His fragile love story with MC started with the same damned feelings. But with you, he felt okay letting it happen. Being vulnerable was not something he excelled in, but he had learned with MC.
He felt his blood run cold. It was his fault after all. If he hadn’t run away and just told you straight up, you never would have gone there in the first place.
He orders the twins to find you. And even if it killed him, find you he would.
~~~
Everything hurt.
Your brain was pounding in your skull, a protest to the excessive drinking you had done last night. But it wasn’t just your head, no, every fiber of your being hurt.
Breathing laboured you try to move, but a sharp pang in your wrists made you stop in your tracks. Then you remember. The drinking, walking outside when suddenly your pulled into a car. The rest is a hazy blur and now you were here.
You try to open your eyes slowly. Your in a dark room, without windows, the only light coming from a singular lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that’s barely working. The room looks rundown, like a cement basement. It smells like dust and mold, and there are small puddles on the floor. The room is barren except for some racks with canned food. You guess it truly is a basement.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, blood rushing through your ears as you try to asses you situation. Your sat in a chair, with your wrists tied behind your back, making it borderline impossible to move. Why the hell did someone take you? Why would anyone even want you anyways? You don’t get long to think when you hear a door open and piercing light filters through. Before your eyes could adjust, the door is promptly closed again and an unfamiliar silhouette walks in your direction.
He's masked, so you can't make out his features, but even if he wasn't, your sure the pounding in your head would've made it impossible to see anyways.
He doesn't say anything, just assesses you like a product for sale. That makes your heart skip a beat. What if you are? You stare at him, questions clouding your mind, but fear grips at you so hard that you can't utter a single word, so all you manage to do is examine him as well.
He grabs a notepad and a pen off of a rack and writes some things down. You force yourself through gritted teeth to speak up. "Who are you, and why am i here?" He looks up at you, and despite the mask you could have sworn he was grinning but he doesn't respond, he just continues writing on the notepad.
And just like that, he leaves, isolating you with your thoughts. How long has it been? Where even are you? Did Sylus notice your absence? If he did, would he come? The air felt too thick, the humidity and mold mixing to make every breath taste like toxic waste.
You try to wiggle your arms, but the material around your wrist was tight, and when you wiggled too hard, it cut through skin. You hiss in pain, tears welling up in your waterline. You blink profusely as you try again, but to your dismay, the material doesn't budge but only cuts deeper. You wince as a tear rolls down your cheek.
You look around the room, searching for anything, but with no windows, and both your hands and feet bound, you had no way of escape. You were bound by the whims of fate, unsure if freedom was ever written in the stars for you.
~~~
He finally found a lead.
It had been hours since he last heard from you. Well, if a payment notification really counts as hearing from you. The twins were hunting down the streets for every lead they could find. At first he thought it was EVER, but to his surprise they had nothing to do with it, making it that much harder to track you down.
Checking the footage of Mephisto flying around Linkon, Sylus looked around the area of the bar. It had been cleaned meticulously, so they weren't amateurs, but then, something caught his eye.
Your bracelet.
Correction, the bracelet he had gifted to you for one of the auctions you had attended with him. It was concealed between some rocks and dirt, hidden from sight so that even he almost missed it. But thank the heavens he didn’t, because in between some of the beads of the bracelet some hairs were tucked. Possibly a sign of struggle. Immediately he called one of the twins over to have it checked.
He cursed himself for taking so long to find the bracelet. The next minutes felt like days, waiting while looking, not finding anything new.
He cannot remember the last time he lost control over his emotions like this. He, the leader of Onychinus, ruler of the N109 zone. But regardless of the titles he holds, it feels useless without you by his side. He should have told you. He shouldn’t have run away, trying to fix it on his own.
“Boss! We found a match, it’s one of the rising gangs. They traffic women without significant background so no one looks for them. We don’t know how they found her yet but we’re on their tail, almost know where they went too.” Kieran informs. Luke stands behind his brother, observing. He had never seen his boss like this.
“Good, we’re moving out as soon as we find her, you hear me?” They nod in unison at their boss’s words. Sylus’s phone rings, and when he checks it he sees MC’s name illuminating his screen.
He huffs out a soft curse as he picks up, MC’s soft voice echoing through the phone’s speakers. “Where did you go? I thought i was supposed to break this ‘curse’, how am i supposed to do anything when i don’t even remember anything?”
Her voice was soft, laced with concern. Had he shown how worried he was? He couldn’t remember, all he knew right now was that he needed to get you back asap.
“I know, listen, something happened and i’ll be back as soon as possible, in the meantime please just try to find any leads on breaking the curse.”
His head hurt, it was taking way too long to find you, especially with how many resources he has. What if something happened to you?
A soft sigh resonates from the phone.
“Listen, i don’t know what’s going on, but if i can help in any way, just let me know okay? You looked like you were about to set the world on fire when you left.”
He hums softly. “Thank you miss hunter, but i think it’s best if you don’t get involved in this specific case.”
He rubs his temple, MC agrees and hangs up the phone, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. Then just like that, one of the twins sends coordinates. He doesn’t need a name to know that they found you, so before his mind can even process, his feet are already moving.
~~~
The door opened again, and this time 3 men entered.
They looked rushed, and one of them moved over to you to untie you. Were they discovered? Were they moving you? Not without a fight they’re not.
As the man stepped behind you to tie you up again you quickly elbowed him, resulting in him falling to his knees gasping for air. You could have sworn you heard bones breaking but you didn’t focus on that as you now had the attention of the other 2 men on you. You could maybe dodge them? You sure as hell were going to try.
As one of them lunged at you, you moved out of the way as fast as you could. He managed to grab a hold of your blouse and tore off your sleeve as the momentum sent him toppling over his friend. Colleague? Didn’t matter. You turn to the other man and you freeze.
Your eyes grow wide as your met with the last man holding a pocket knife in his hands. You were so not prepared for this. You never bad to fight, not even in the N109 zone. Sylus had always kept you close to him so not once had you been forced to retort to violence yourself, but being eye to eye with someone who clearly has the intent to kill made something in your brain switch, clearing up your mind more then any hangover drink ever could.
Your hands tremble as you stare at him, and it’s like a countdown to your death. He swings, and you barely evade, but while stepping away he slices at your arm. A groan escapes your lips as you grab tight to the wound. It’s a shallow cut, but still bleeding much heavier then you would like.
Before the man could swing again the door bursts open with way more force than necessary causing it to fall out of its hinges entirely. And when your met with his crimson eyes you can feel relief wash over your entire being. He looks feral, eyes locked on the man with the knife, and before you can blink the man disintegrates into thin air. The other 2 men follow suit and just like that, your alone with him, heaving heavy breaths of relief.
Tears spill over your cheeks, and before you can fall to the ground he picks you up effortlessly, caging you in his arms.
You wrap your arms around his neck as you allow yourself to let go, and you sob. You knew you looked ugly but you couldn’t care less right now. You were safe. He was here. He cared. Enough to save you at least. Enough to not let you fend for yourself.
And he keeps whispering sweet nothings into your ears as you finally collapse under the heave weight of fatigue, letting him swoop you up.
“We’re going home.”
And then you’re out.
~~~
A/N: Hello! I know every update is taking longer and longer and I'm sorry for that, but I have never written an action scene before and none of worked right in my head :( Thank you for being so patient with my I really appreciate it y'all! That being said, I hope this chapter was worth waiting for and I'll work hard to cook up more delicious food for everyone <3 Have a great day everyone!💕
Paring: Sylus x Hacker!Reader
Rating: M (Subject to change) 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Story Content Warning: All the fun illegal things of a criminal mastermind, including: fights, hacking, stealing, ; Reader has a rough past that will be revealed with time (and proper warnings on those chapters) ; human experimentation (reader was experimented on) ; cussing ; slow burn ; boss / employee eventual relationship ; canon divergent ; sex tape used for blackmail (minor OC characters in tape) ; depiction of panic and anxiety attacks ; parental abandonment ; human trafficking ; dead dove (do not eat); tags and warnings subject to be updated
Story Summary: The world within the N109 Zone has always been a tough one to navigate, but your only loyalty has always been yourself, and it's kept you alive this long. But when the leader of Onychinus wants you to work for him, well - he's not exactly used to the word no, is he?
A/N: Hey there, lovelies! I am back! I would like to quickly tap the content warnings again for this chapter. I have updated them as well and will be using tw in the tag. This was no means in way of tricking you this far into the story you've invested in. I will be going back and updating tags for previous chapters as well. This one is heavy. I have sprinkled some fluff moments in there, but please make sure you are in an okay mental place to read this one. I promise you we will have a HEA ending. If you need to be removed from the subscribed list, I totally understand. Please let me know.
What the hell did you get yourself into?
Gump was still sending things over to the secured drop box, but it was twenty years worth of information. Terabytes upon terabytes of documentation.
There was no way. You had fucked up on this one, that was for sure. This was going to be the equivalent of searching for needles on a goddamn mountain. Teams of people take years to sort through this kind of data for things they need - and you were only you.
Well…you were better than most teams of people on your own, but that still didn't change the fact that you were about to drown in a sea of evidence. But evidence of what, exactly? No idea.
The twins were talking, but you couldn't hear them. The panic attack was starting to take over your senses; an army of ants crawled under your skin and your ears buzzed with hundreds of bees.
"Out."
Two similar faces turned toward you, but before they could respond, you commanded again, louder. "Get out!"
When they winced, you apologized. "I…I need a minute to myself. Please." You tried to sound calmer, but it was still clearly strained. They left without another word. Following them to the door, you slammed it shut as soon as they crossed the threshold, locking it for good measure.
One minute. You would allow yourself one minute to fall apart.
A wave of your hand brought a timer on a monitor, and then you did just that.
A pillow from the bed received you assault - screams, punches, kicks.
This was the stupidest, most idiotic plan you had ever come up with. How were you supposed to find anything among the piles of other junk there? Where do you even start with organization? What were you even looking for?
Your contract would be gone and over, multiple years behind you by the time you sorted through all this, and you had told Sylus that you would have something for him relatively soon. All you've done is prove that you're a liar and as incapable as you were back then.
Stupid, stupid little mouse.
A harsh chime filled your ears, silenced quickly by a flick of your hand. One minute to fall apart.
Ten breaths to put it all together again.
You sat on the floor, back against the bed, dropped your head to your knees, and then began to count.
One - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
This was not impossible, it was just big.
Two - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time. Any more and you'd choke.
Three - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
Organize. Surveillance could be scaled down to just a few monitors. One for notes. Three , at least, for diving.
Four - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
Then a list; one of exactly what you need to look for right now.
Five - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
Protocores. Loans - two parts: to Avery and to others.
Six - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
A timeline - rough one of Avery's life. It would help narrow down who he got mixed up with.
You could build a few different algorithms to pull what you thought you needed. Adjust them when needed.
Nine - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
Sylus isn't expecting for you to have anything today. He will give you the space to work. You know this.
Ten - breathe in, two, three, four. Hold. Breathe out, two, three, four.
You were the best of the best. You could do this.
You looked up, took one more steadying breath, and then, to the computers and yourself, said, "Alright, let's get to work."
Every bad habit that you had slowly been fixing over the past four and half months came back with a vengeance. You barely slept, and when you did, you did so in the same room as all of your tech.
You rushed through anything that had become routine, unfocused and frustrated - the tasks becoming more like chores than being enjoyable.
A variety of people entered the room to pull you out at different points, making comments about you needing to eat or it was time to take a break in one way or another.
Sylus had stopped doing anything outside of forcing you to sit with him to listen to a record because inevitably you would fall asleep about three songs in, and he knew you needed the rest.
The twins were a little less relenting, dragging you out to play a game or to make sure you kept up with your training. Sometimes they would even snatch something of yours, usually from your desk, just so you would leave the room to hunt them down. They were worried about you, too.
At the end of the first week, you felt you had little progress to show for it, but when you were caught staring at the ceiling in thought on how to proceed, you were dragged out of the room and downstairs.
It was time for your weekly training with Sylus.
A wrapped hand dropped heavy on your head, startling you. "Focus, sweetie. Your mind needs to be on the opponent in front of you, not the one upstairs on a screen."
With a groan, you pushed Sylus' hand off. He was right. You knew he was right, but it didn't help your internal struggle.
"Your form isn't normally this terrible."
Raising an eyebrow at his face in the mirror, you dropped your shoulders and shifted your stance.
"Better."
But halfway through your set, you were stopped again. "You're losing focus. Reset your stance."
You did so with a low growl. This was quickly becoming the longest session of your life.
Your instructor was just as nearly fed up with you, too. "We're trying something else," Sylus said a minute later. "Get in the ring."
"That sounds like a terrible idea," you said as he walked away from you to grab two sets of gloves.
"The only way, it seems, to pull you out of your own head is to force it to latch onto something else in its entirety."
"Uh huh. And sparring with you will fix this how, exactly? We both know this won't end well for me," you countered, sliding under the ropes.
"Then let's force you to care a little more about being present. Let's put a bet on this fight."
"A bet?" you repeated, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Yes," Sylus said, pulling on his gloves. "You manage to land three hits on me, you can get anything you want within my ability to do so."
"You tell me how Mephisto works." The words had flown from your mouth so quickly Sylus hadn't fully shut his from explaining the conditions.
Carmine eyes blinked in surprise, but the corners of his mouth turned up. "That was quick."
You shrugged. "I want to know. Besides, what if he needed more maintenance?"
"He won't," but a chuckle followed the statement. "You really want to know that badly, huh?"
Your face made it clear what the obvious answer was as you reached for your own set of gloves. Tugging them on with your teeth, you asked, "And if you land three hits on me? I assume there's a prize for you, too." For some reason, you were nervous about what he would choose.
"If I win, I get your name."
Your eyebrows furrowed as you double checked your wrist straps. "You already know my name."
"V is a letter, not a name."
Your name - your name had been a heavy secret you had carried within you since you could remember. Something that, despite those people trying to force you to forget, you held onto with all your strength. A secret nightly mantra of your truest self.
A name you had not given anyone since you were very small.
The reality of the situation before you was that you knew you were going to lose. To agree to this meant admitting that you trusted Sylus; trusted he wouldn't turn on you. And you couldn't remember the last time you felt that way about anyone.
Taking a deep breath, you nodded. "Alright. You win, you get my name."
As was typical, Sylus found himself, once more, correct about what you needed. Having something worth fighting for seemed to steady you. Focus you. Avery and the mountainous digital pile was all but forgotten. There was you, him, and this mat. That was all.
To Sylus' credit, he did try to not look as smug as he felt. Not only did his ego swell just a bit at being able to read you correctly, again, but you had also vastly improved over the last couple of months, and that was mostly his doing.
Here, in this moment, you fell back on your technique. Your movements were more sure, more confident. You defended blows with ease, but still hesitated on your offensive maneuvers.
This was the hardest Sylus had ever seen you fight; he couldn't tell if it was your determination to reconstruct Mephisto, or if it was determination to not tell him something as common as your name.
What an odd thing to hide, he thought.
You made it a full two minutes before he swiped your leg, pinning you to the mat. A curse spilled from your mouth as you went down, realizing it was all over.
Sylus eased upward, sitting next to you as you lay on your back, catching your breath. "You're never going to win if you can only defend. Although, I have to say - you've improved quite a bit, kitten. I'm proud of you."
You lifted a gloved hand, which he bumped with his own, as a breathy 'thanks' slipped out. Then you looked over at him. "How are you not tired?"
A low chuckle reached your ears, ruby eyes bright as he pulled off his gloves, and then reached over to help you with yours. "I've been doing this much longer than you - my stamina's better."
Hands free, you hmphed, forcing yourself into a seated position. Sure, bring logic into this.
You pulled the end of your wraps, untangling the material from your fingers. Anxiety filled your chest, and you took slow breaths to build up the strength needed to give Sylus his prize.
This precious, quiet part of you that was as sacred as a prayer. A thing that, up until now, you had left buried deep, hidden under the pseudonym of this world knew you as: V.
You were working on freeing your second hand, eyes downward before you said it. The moniker felt odd in your mouth from lack of use, even stranger to your ears. "That's my name."
But, oh, hearing it repeated back to you in that deep baritone, the voice's owner saying it like it was just as revered as any of the jewels in his collection, a pleasant shiver raced up your spine. "I like that better than V," he concluded.
You kept your face turned to hide the heat on your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don't go around using it too much. You're the only one who knows it."
Sylus couldn't hide the shock on his face at the statement, and he found himself thankful that you had turned away from him. It took a moment too long to realize the weight of the gift he had been given. He had been ready to tease you relentlessly about your secretiveness of it, but the words instead formed a lump in his throat.
To be the only one to know something so precious; it was a great honor.
His Adam's apple bobbed as questions swarmed his mind. What had made you hide it away to begin with? Your name has slipped from his tongue with such ease, such clarity, as if it was something deep within him recognized the moment you said it. He loved the way it felt in his mouth - the way you seemed to relish in hearing it. How you had closed your eyes just long enough that your mind could focus on the sound of it said back to you.
Why go by V, then?
Shaking his head, he schooled his face into his ever-present smirk, pushing the questions aside for now. "Alright, if you prefer."
You gave him, well, the wall, a solid nod, before finishing rolling your wraps. Something uncomfortable settled over you - an unfamiliar emotion that fit as comfortably as a too small shirt.
Moving quickly, you stood, still not meeting his eyes. "I should get back to it." And then you were scrambling down from the ring.
The way you worked through the documentation was chaotic, at best. Algorithms sorted everything into rough groups, and you tackled those groups in random intervals depending on what you were comprehending the best that day. Or were least frustrated with.
You were getting closer - the outlines of this puzzle were slowly snapping into place. On one monitor was a rough timeline, questions of things you deemed important enough to explore immediately in the margins.
On the other three, pages and pages of finances and legal loan documents.
There was something here, something in how it was worded, something in how they all seemed to come due by a certain shipment each month before the next ones started up.
Avery had been here for a while - a long while. He was here when the N109 Zone was thriving due to the technology it produced; it even looked like he made quite a few investments in one organization that didn't seem to exist anymore. The documents only had shorthand. GA RE , and then numbers.
And then things went sideways, for everyone.
You had heard about the collapse of it all, the Fall of the N109 Zone in 2032, the Chronorift Catastrophe in 2034, the riots where Sylus all but took out anyone opposing him in 2036… but you had no memory of it; you life here started after all of that. And, like many others, Avery was on top until he wasn't. There's a huge amount of time he's gone, and when he starts to appear again, he's moved from investing in companies to investing in people with nearly impossible to pay back loans.
But where did he get the money from to give it to people in the first place?
Those were the documents that you dreaded going through. Hundreds of loans and bank statements of a variety of amounts and dates. You could only take so much at a time before you could feel your eyes glossing over.
There was something, though, in the wording of the payback conditions that kept drawing your eye.
'Debtor is required to pay the loan in full to Maverics, LLC by the written date. Debtor will send payments to the provided bank account by Maverics, LLC before the written date.
Should Debtor fail to pay the loan in full to Maverics, LLC, the acting owner will decide on an equivalent repayment. This may or may not include, and is not limited to, the following options: liquidating Debtor's property(s), liquidating Debtor's assets, obtaining something viewed as equal value to the loan, manual labor (new contract and conditions to follow), dismemberment, indentured servitude, or possession of Debtor for company use. '
The newest contracts had updated, shortened examples list: 'liquidating Debtor's property(s), assets, or possession of Debtor for company use.'
These weren't…unheard of tactics for where you resided, but you had never really seen them written out before. It was really that last one, though, that itched at you.
Sylus. You would go talk to Sylus before jumping to conclusions. He dealt with more contracts than you; he'd be able to tell you if this could potentially mean what you thought it did.
You were up and out of your chair before you could think any longer on it. Grabbing a nearby tablet, you flicked the documents to the device in the twitch of a movement, and then you were heading downstairs.
Someone was in trouble. You weren't sure who, but you knew better than to interrupt the conversation happening on the other side of the closed door. You jumped slightly at the force put behind it to slam it open and the group of men storming out.
Peeking in, you saw your boss standing next to his desk, rubbing his forehead and his face scrunched in annoyance. Well, whoever that was should count themselves lucky that Sylus' bane couldn't be relieved in their quick deaths.
Standing in the door frame, you cocked your head to the side, "Bad time?"
It was a weighted sigh that left his lips, before a shake of his head and he was rounding to the front of the desk, leaning back just enough to rest against it. "Never for you." One large hand gestured to the two chairs in front of him, which you went to after shutting the door. "What's on your mind?"
Taking a seat, you passed him the tablet. "Okay, I need to you make sure I'm understanding this correctly - you work more with contracts than I do."
Vermilion eyes scanned the documents, but when Sylus handed it back to you, his brow furrowed. "Those conditions are fairly straight forward and common enough here that I'm surprised you would need me to clarify them."
"It…It's the last one. I don't fully understand what that could mean."
"In what sense?"
"Well…before that it says manual labor…so what's the difference between the two?"
With a hum, Sylus crossed his arms before answering. "Depends on the company. For me, it would depend if I would need them long or short term."
That didn't help, and it was clear on your face, but before you could ask, he clarified again. "How long I need them alive, sweetie."
"So…manual labor would mean more long term?"
"Potentially. Do you have anything else to go off of?"
You shook your head. "I've been reading documents nonstop, but I haven't found any that would fall under this manual labor section. Some have additions added at the end if the repayment wasn't, um, cash, but that's it."
A nod was your acknowledgment, and, unknown to you, Sylus watched your face carefully as you thought. "How much longer do you think you will need?"
You looked up as he moved back around his desk to his chair. "For this piece specifically?"
"For all of it."
You sat quietly for a minute, unsure of the best way to answer his question. "To make sense of what seems to be related to the auctions, probably a few more weeks. To make sense of all of it?" You shrugged. "That's twenty years worth of information. Why? Do you need it organized sooner?"
He hummed in thought, before leaning back and crossing his arms. "We need this done by the twelfth of next month."
That was a little over three weeks away. It was…doable. Possibly. If you didn't sleep. Or eat.
It might be time to trim down your questions around the timeline. With a nod, you began to work through a plan of attack in your head. "Don't know why you said it like that, but I should have something for you by then."
Sylus was reaching into the drawer of his desk and then passing a thick looking envelope your way. The paper was almost silky to the touch, and inside was an invitation to an upcoming auction.
Not just an auction, though. This was more like a small convention if you were reading it correctly. "It's only one auction? But there's an itinerary for Friday night through Sunday morning." You didn't recognize the address, so you looked it up, digging a bit deeper than surface level.
"Caesar is announcing himself to those he feels hold power here, based on the attendee list I've procured."
With a nod, you voiced your findings, "At a hotel casino he has recently purchased. So he's showing off." Looking up, you furrowed your brows at the carmine eyes studying you. "Or…is this more of a threat?"
Sylus shrugged as he answered, "A bit of both most likely."
"Alright, so is there something specific you are hoping to have as an ace up your sleeve?"
"Anything that would give us an advantage in a potential negotiation."
You blinked. Sylus blinked back, but you could see the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Why do you keep saying it like that?"
"Like what, kitten?"
"No, don't do that. My head hurts too much for games. Why do you keep switching to a plural pronoun?"
He was grinning now, but in a way that made your stomach tighten in nervousness. "Because we are both going to the event."
"Sure, yeah, like last time, but then why all these lexiconal back flips?"
"Because it won't be like last time. You're going as my plus one."
It shouldn't have given Sylus the joy it did to see you short circuit in front of him, but he found it fairly…cute. The way your eyes widened, how your body froze except for the barest twitch of your fingers as things fell securely into place in your mind. You eyebrows pinching together at the top of your nose.
And then you did something weird. You giggled. "No."
Grey brows furrowed. "No?"
"You can't be serious."
"When have I ever not been serious?"
"I mean there was the whole fruit vendor business, do not start with that again," you said raising a hand, only to be met with a quiet laugh. With a huff, you dropped it. "I cannot be your plus one."
"And why not? You're already going to have to come anyway; we both know it's better for you to be hands on, so to speak. Besides, this isn't the type of event you bring a beautiful woman along with you and she doesn't show up on your arm."
Your hands were immediately covering your face as you felt the heat already creeping up your neck. With a groan, you tried again. "That's not.. okay, look. I am this," you gestured broadly to yourself.
"Hmm, I'll make you an appointment with the seamstress that works with my tailor. You won't have to worry about clothes."
Once more, your jaw dropped and it took a moment too long to get it moving again. "That's not what I meant, but…also thank you. I think. My point, before you interrupted me, is that I do not people. I work with machines. I barely have conversations with you and you want me to join you trapped in a room with more versions of you trying to play you for a weekend."
He smirked. That never ended well for you in arguments. "If they are all like me than you are more qualified than most others attending."
"Sylus!"
"Yes?"
"This isn't funny!"
"Well, I'm thoroughly amused -"
You were already standing from the chair and heading toward the door, cutting him off. "I'm not doing this with you right now."
"Doing what exactly?"
With a sharp exhale, you shot a glare to the man, but it was easily deflected by his grin. His fucking Cheshire cat wide grin.
"Thank you for your help. I have a million documents to get through in three weeks, so I will be disappearing into the abyss until I am done." With a mocking salute, you turned back to the door.
"I'll see you in a few hours for your break."
"I don't like you a lot right now, so I doubt it!" you called back, shutting the door behind you and cutting off the laugh you could already hear forming.
Unfortunately for your boss, it turns out you're pretty good at ignoring him. When you didn't show up on your own to the records room, Sylus went hunting for you. But you weren't in the library, your room, or the security room. He thought you went out for a ride, but your bike was still in the garage.
Mephisto was the one that found you…and the twins. Sylus could hear the sound effects from whatever movie the three of you were watching in the theater from down the hall.
When he cracked open the door, he could barely see the top of three heads in the middle row, watching a particularly gory moment on the screen.
The heads shifted, and he could hear the twins' bickering about something, before refocusing on the scene. What he didn't expect is for your head to fully pop up and look at him from your chair.
"It's weird with you standing in the doorway. You can come sit if you want." And then you plopped back down.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, he and Mephisto moved into the room, the door shutting silently behind them, and then Sylus slipped into the chair next to you, and Mephisto hopped into your lap.
"I thought you didn't like me right now."
"I do not," you verified, scratching the preening crow's neck. "But this isn't work, so it doesn't count."
Sylus settled more comfortably in the seat, eyes focused on you, and every so often on the pompous bird looking a little too smug in your lap. "Oh? So you only don't like me as a boss?"
"Currently."
"Then what are we right now?"
"Friends." The word had slipped out of your mouth confidently, but you still watched him out of the corner of your eye for his reaction. His own seemed to widen just a fraction from what you could see of him, and then he scoffed, turning his attention to the movie.
"Friends," he repeated. An agreement, for now.
At some point, your body took your stillness as a sign to rest. You fought to keep your eyelids open, but the dialogue on the screen starting to slip incomprehensibly past your ears. It was over the moment you supported your head on your hand, and then your eyes slid shut.
The plot twist had the twins cheering and Sylus, amused, turned to see what you thought, only to feel something press into his shoulder, startling him. When he looked, he saw the top of your head, your breathing slow and shallow. It seemed your arm had given up being a proper support, and you found his to use instead.
The darkness hid the soft smile that appeared briefly on his face, before Sylus adjusted just enough where both of you would be able to rest comfortably through the end of the film…and maybe the credits, too.
Loans on loans on loans - your head was swimming with variation of the same form over and over in front of your eyes. You were starting to wonder if you had been trying to catch smoke with how utterly unwell this had been going.
Every loan had a stamp that it was paid or an addendum on alternative payments used. There were more addendums than stamps.
On this particular skim of loan paperwork, a name snagged your attention and with it, a memory was dredged from the depths.
To a five year old, anyone bigger than you was older than you. And this bigger girl in front of you was pretty.
You wore the same starchy white jumpsuits, but her hair was blond and straight, and was long enough to just touch her shoulders.
She leaned forward across the table, grinning and whispering, "Are you new?"
You nodded, still staring at the tray of food in front of you.
"You'll want to eat that. You'll need it."
"Why?"
Her dark eyes drooped just a little and a sad smile cross her face. "Because sometimes the medicine will upset your stomach, and you'll need your strength."
"I don't need medicine," you replied with a pursed face and all the anger someone your size could muster. "I'm not sick." You hated medicine. It always tasted yucky.
Again, she smiled at you in a way you didn't understand. "If you eat a few bites, I'll tell you a secret."
Narrowing your eyes, you eyed the plate of food again and, too curious for your own good, swallowed a bite. And then another.
When you finished most of your meal, the girl leaned over again and, in a conspiratorial tone said, "My name's Sylvie. What's yours?"
Your eyes grew wide, and you checked around you before giving her your name. "The mean man said we don't get to have our names anymore."
"Yes, well, it would remind the doctors they are experimenting on people and not lab mice, and they don't want to remember that. But, listen, sweetheart, we have to remember. We cannot let them steal our names. It is the last true thing we will ever own."
"How? They call me a number now. What if I forget?"
"You tell yourself every night before bed. You remind yourself who you are, and you tell yourself that you will survive this."
Sylvie … she had a number, too. 0427, if you remembered right.
Huh - just like the due date on this loan. But she hadn't looked old enough to sign something like this…not that many would care. Most teenagers lied about their age to get whatever they needed.
Something slid into place in your mind, and a horrid chill began to creep up your spine.
The shipments - where were the shipment logs? Surely, it would be obvious if Avery was a part of what you were thinking he was a part of.
Shipment Log
Transport - Ground: Truck 72128
Product 0325ne
Product 0331e
Product 0416ne
Product 0427ne
You felt sick - physically sick. You…you would have remembered something like this, right? Surely…surely you misunderstood something in the contracts. This couldn't…
obtaining something viewed as equal value to the loan
possession of Debtor for company use
There was no way you were used to pay off someone's debt.
Digging through by date now, you found a loan due on the date tattooed on your neck, hidden in white ink, but the name on the line wasn't yours. Well…the first name wasn't, anyway.
Everything was static. Every limb numb.
Why - why would someone do this?
Fingers flying, you sped through the loans, finding the oldest and the date, and then you narrowed your search to anything between Avery's initial disappearance and that specific date.
It was only a handful of items; a bank statement line with an obscene amount of zeros on a deposit from a XAN SCI EVER , a contract with Xander Sciences for a recruitment position, a business purchase agreement for a private transportation company.
You were going to be sick.
You would've remembered, right? Something this traumatic…
No - you didn't remember most things anymore. You remembered the fear. The hatred. But the older you got, the more things had faded away. Or maybe they were shoved somewhere deep. Or maybe there was more damage done to your brain in the experimental surgery than you knew about.
One of the few memories from that time you had was having your small hand passed from a bigger one to another big one. There were only bits and pieces that you could remember over the next eleven years. Life didn't start for you until you were sixteen and escaped.
The memories, here, in the N109 Zone, were the only ones that weren't foggy.
Something was wrong - you couldn't breathe. Your throat was on fire, and there was a buzzing around you.
Stumbling out of your chair, you fell back to the floor, trying to pull yourself together.
The twins were the ones that found you; coming in excitedly to tell you that last night's movie was apparently the start of a train wreck of a series that you were now required to binge with them.
The words had died on Luke's lips when they looked around the room and found you in the darkest corner, curled into a ball. They split, Keiran coming to sit in front of you and Luke to the computer.
"Please don't touch me," you gasped out, and he didn't. Just sat cross legged in front of you and waited. He turned his head just enough to see Luke, see the deep cut frown on his face, and knew.
Most of the documents that were opened made no sense to the two of them, but the company names did. They didn't need to know your story as they weren't exactly eager to share their own.
So eventually Luke came over and sat between you and Keiran, facing the open door, just in case, as you fell into yourself, and they waited.
Neither complained; they were just there. A solidarity in a way the three of you needed but didn't know how to communicate. An unspoken reminder that this was a safe place. That was the past, not the present. Not the future.
And while the fear of being turned over still gripped your heart with an iron fist, there was a quiet part of you listening to what was whispered in body language by the way the three of you were seated: you would not be taken from here without a fight.
Once you were able to breathe again, air no longer feeling like shards of glass, you mumbled something about being hungry, only to be helped to your feet and led to the kitchen. Like a switch, Luke was back to his excited rundown of the movie series, Keiran just as animated as he.
Part of you felt just a little better.
You couldn't face the workload right now - not when it felt like you had been stripped raw, rubbed down with sandpaper, and thrown into the ocean. You couldn't afford to lose time with the deadline very quickly approaching and, once you had food in your belly and your head cleared, you realized that this wasn't the information Sylus really needed.
It was helpful, yes, but nothing had yet to connect to Caesar.
But the truth behind the numbers on your neck…
and the way the protocores had been labeled lately on some of the auction lists….
Standing in the doorway of the security room for longer than what you felt was appropriate, you turned, stepping down the hall toward your own. Right now that was too much. So, instead, you would do something in your control: training.
It was absurd, Sylus thought to himself, that the first thing he wanted to do upon returning home from anything now was find you. He never went out of his way to look for the twins, and they found him whether he wanted them to or not.
But you - you had quickly settled into being part of his routine. He could chalk it up to the fact that he was doing his due diligence checking on security for Onychinus as any leader would, but then he would be lying to himself.
Surprised to find you not in your usual location, Sylus skimmed the monitors for you instead. The door to the boxing gym was open, and he couldn't help but grin. Some how, even with the insurmountable work load you had taken on, you still made time to train. It gave him a sense of pride that he had no business in having.
Maybe he could convince you to spar again.
As he made his way down, he realized that there was music becoming increasingly louder from the room, and not the classical compositions he usually played. This was sharp - edgier. Well, that would make it almost too easy to startle you, wouldn't it?
Two doors away, the music changed into something shrill, and then stopped altogether. He could hear your breathless, "Hello?" to whoever had called you. And then it was a one sided conversation.
"You don't usually call - everything good?"
"What?! Are you -" He heard you scrambling for something, Velcro as you stripped the wraps from your hands.
"Did they kick hiss ass out?"
"Of course they fucking didn't."
You were sprinting out the door now, yanking your jacket over your sweaty arms, so focused on where you were headed you didn't see the white haired man off to the side. "Yeah - yeah, send me where I'll be there as soon as I can."
When an hour had passed after you sped from the base, Sylus texted you, asking for something so minor, just to see if you would respond. You did, with the information he asked.
At hour three he did it again, but this time with an additional pointed message about your return. You sent back the information, and a 'dunno.'
When the fifth one rolled by, he checked your location, only to find it blinking over his current address. You had left your glasses at home. Whoever you met was someone you didn't feel the need to hide from, and that thought churned something ugly inside of his gut. He texted you again, but this time there was no response.
And then he texted you again.
And again.
The seventh hour was when you found yourself returning to the base, exhaustion dripping from every pore in your body. Climbing the stairs, you decided to swing by the security room to give everything a once over before heading to bed, but what you saw instead made you almost skip by the room entirely.
Sylus typically left your work area alone unless he needed something, so coming back and finding him sitting in your chair at your desk playing with your stress ball was very unexpected. Add in the very ominous feel of the room, and your nervous system started to creep into overdrive.
A gray eyebrow raised, and he turned away from you to watch the screens. "You were gone in a hurry."
With a sigh, you pulled up another chair, eyeing your boss. "It wasn't something I could skip."
"You stopped answering my texts."
"They stopped being about work."
That earned you a pointed glare. You cut him off before he could start. "Yes, yes - what could be more important than the leader of Onychinus' needs?" Fingers tapped swiftly on a keyboard, loading a new window - the news reel of the Bot Fight from earlier that evening filling the page. "You know of the underground rings."
"I do."
"Then you've heard of the Bot Fights."
"Yes - the ones with Evols like you creating giant robots to fight. But no one has broken top ranks in years, so the majority of them aren't watched anymore."
"Until he showed up." You pointed to the screen, particularly to the young man on the right, face twisted in anger. "He's been cutting through the ranks with a speed no one has seen. He fought Two Bit tonight - who has sat as the Gatekeeper for a long while."
"You know a lot about this. I didn't know you had interest in Bot Fights."
"I used to be in the circuit."
That wasn't the answer Sylus was expecting. You could tell - his eyes widening just slightly, before you gestured back to the monitor. "The rule is you win by either destroying the machine or forcing the other fighter to yield." You started the video.
Two Bit was pinned down, arms splayed to either side of of him by mechanical looking limbs. If you didn't know him personally, you'd think he was calm and collected. But you did know him - he was furious.
"I yield."
There was a cheer from the crowd of a new victor; a new challenger to the top ranks.
But the man standing tall in front of the machine pinning Two Bit down, grinned wickedly. "I don't accept." And then the machine moved. The video cut off when the screams started.
"He lost his arm, and he's lucky he didn't lose his life." Your voice was quieter now. "They're looking for a prosthetic to fit him. He's not as tall as you, but tall enough it's not easy. He'll have to retire, which will hurt because he was in enough fights that he made decent income from it."
While you were studying the screen, Sylus was studying you. How your mouth frowned, by your eyes showed anger and sadness and exhaustion. "You know him."
You rolled your eyes, leaning back in the chair. "Yeah, well. To get in, you have to have someone vouch you can fight. Vouch you can make a decent enough build in 30 seconds, because that's all you get at the start of a match. Two Bit was my way in."
There was silence as you watched the screen again, closing it in disgust. "I haven't attended the fights in a while, and I figured it would be an easy win for him, anyway. Knowing him, he would've just sent me his favorite highlights when it was over, and I have enough work to do here…even if I did need a break for a little while."
The statement was a weak balm over Sylus' anger, but the emotion was starting to drain out of him. "And then you got a call."
You nodded, solemnly, eyes lost on the desk in front of you. "Waited with him until he woke up from surgery. Made a couple calls on his behalf." You shrugged. "I needed to make sure he wasn't…" you trailed off, twisting your fingers. "Anyway. I got a hold of someone he likes more than me to stay with him. Came back here." You finally looked up, but you couldn't recognize the emotion you saw on Sylus' face.
It was quiet for a moment, before he spoke again. "So who's the new kid?"
"Goes by the name of Vulpes. He's a very new fighter, not much on him. What's weird is that no one seems to know who vouched for his first fight. I'm keeping an ear to the ground, but it's not priority at the moment."
There was a shift in your tone at the statement, something that Sylus could recognize as loyalty. A need for vengeance of a wrong done close enough to home to still sting. That was a tone he knew well.
"Does it need to be?"
You gave him a look then - one of confusion. "A priority? For me, no. There's plenty already deep diving as much as they can."
"But they aren't you."
"No," you hummed, "they're not. Just means they're slower. Besides, I think I'm close on this loan business, and I want to be done with it. Or as done as I can be."
"Are you sure?"
A tired grin slid across your face. "You're giving me the choice? Putting someone else before the Great Sylus?"
The Great Sylus gave you a pointed look that came across as less intimidating and more bemused. "Don't push it."
Standing, you stretched your arms above your head, body aching from your early-ended workout. "Well you're in luck, because I choose you." You turned away, missing the way the large man behind you froze at your words. "But after a few hours of sleep," you finished, already stepping out the door with a wave.
FOR ME, IT WILL ALWAYS BE YOU - Sylus x Non MC! ( Part 5 )
Summery: you find yourself in lads universe after a particularly close interaction with truck kun. How does life go from here after arriving in the N109 zone leaders backyard when MC hasn’t arrived yet?
Disclaimer, Sylus might be OOC, since i’m not very good at writing so bear with me. This will be multiple parts!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
You were fiddling with your bracelet.
One you had been graciously gifted by Sylus for the auction under the pretense of it otherwise ‘gathering dust’ in his humble abode, but you had seen him looking online for it, searching for just the right one.
You heard the clock strike 12, but sleep would not come, tossing and turning, but nothing helping. You were certain you had exhausted all possible sleeping aids so you decided to just get out of bed and maybe grab a bite. Sylus and the twins are always asleep by this time, and the base was very big, so you weren't worried you would run into them.
Except for the fact you had forgot to factor in that with MC in the picture, Sylus wasn't very nocturnal anymore, his usual sleeping time now filled with trying to resonate with miss hunter, and not succeeding, and making sure she gets comfortable enough with him.
You're in your pj's, t-shirt drooping off of your shoulder as you shuffle into the kitchen. Though you had grown accustomed to the N109 zone's perpetual darkness, you missed the kiss of the suns warmth at times you felt so cold inside you wondered if anything would ever be able to warm you again.
The base is once again silent, his text from yesterday haunted your mind. You knew he wouldn't let this go, but you were a coward, so you chose to run away while you still could.
You sigh, shaking your head, as if that would make all the thoughts go away. You honestly weren't even hungry but you needed to do something to take your mind off of things. Wrapping your bedhair in a messy bun you shuffle around the kitchen looking for an easy meal.
Sylus being Sylus, he has a plethora of food sources up for grabs, so you grab a simple ready made porridge from the shelf. As you read the instructions you hear the front door open and muffled voices echoing through the corridor.
One obviously belonging to Sylus, and the other being much more high pitched you figure it was a female, specifically, the one who had shaken up everything you had just built up in the past 4,5 months.
Your shoulders stiffen without meaning too. Their voices sounded like sandpaper to you, grating past your skin, leaving your nerves open and exposed. But his voice, oh how soft it was, agitatingly teasing, but not directed at you. No, his precious miss hunter was now the center of his attention.
Your hands stop moving as your attention unwillingly centers around their conversation. To your surprise however, miss hunter hadn't sounded like she had warmed up yet at all. Curse you and your feeble hope. Though that didn't stop Sylus from almost cooing at his newfound 'lover'.
You will your hands to resume their task and pretend to be invisible. You hope he plays along. As the voices get closer you hear him faltering as he sees you in the kitchen.
You feel the blood rush to your ears, the sound so loud it drowns nearly everything else out. Heartbeat too fast, breathing once again to shallow. But then, he starts talking again, and moves away from the kitchen.
Your shoulders slump.
Without missing a beat, your eyes well up. Hot tears spill over your cheeks, and you don't even try to stop them anymore. It was useless anyway. You continued making the porridge, hands trembling slightly. How could he not even acknowledge your existence? You carefully put the porridge in the microwave, and just stare as the seconds tick by.
Numb.
That's the best way you could describe it at this point. It felt all wrong. You wanted to go home, but you weren’t certain you had a home anymore. You never really fit in. Neither here nor where you originally came from.
The microwaves harsh beep resounds through the kitchen, effectively snapping you out of your thoughts. You open the door and grab a towel to wrap around the now hot package of porridge.
You sit down at the kitchen counter and carefully open the package, nearly getting a third degree burn from the steam. You hiss as you blow on it. Moving so frantically you caught your own reflection in the oven. You looked horrid, dark circles encasing your eyes, cheeks hollower then you remember them being, and your hair disheveled.
You scoff at your own reflection. Pathetic. That was all you could think. You can’t even taste the porridge, but you shove it in nonetheless. Better something then nothing. It's become your mantra at this point.
The kitchen feels cold, the lack of companionship leaving the once warm and cozy kitchen feeling lost and deserted. The metal spoon feels foreign in your fingers as you softly poke your porridge. You discard the leftover half as you move to the bathroom. You decide it be best to take a shower, as to not draw too much attention to yourself.
You slowly undress yourself, turning on the shower to let it get to the right temperature. Once happy with said temperature, you brush out your hair and move under the shower head and let the borderline boiling water cascade down your body. You just stand there for a while, skin turning red and steam filling the bathroom.
Finally you move to clean yourself off and wash your hair. It had taken you longer then it usually would. Once done you dry yourself off and moisturize your skin, you take a second to think. Maybe you should just go out? You haven't gone out for a drink since you've been here. For a good reason of course, but maybe you could somehow sneak into Linkon and find a good bar there? That idea really struck a cord with you and you immediately look to put on something remotely wearable for a night out.
Entering the walk-in closet, you look at your small corner of clothes in the big room, made to fit hundreds of thousands of dollars of clothes. Unlucky for you, you had barely enough to fill up 3 shelves and have a couple clothes hanging. You do have a couple dresses but those are much to fancy for just a night out, so you hop into a short work skirt and a semi casual blouse and hold onto your heels as to not make to much noise when going out.
Applying a small layer of make up to hide the eyebags and make you look more alive, you feel adrenaline course through your veins. If Sylus caught you right now there was no way he would let you go. Or maybe he would? You weren't sure anymore. You check yourself out in the mirror, grinning softly when you don't look half dead and make way to the door as softly as you can.
In the hall you could hear Sylus's snores softly reverberate through the hall. Your heart clenches softly. The sound so achingly familiar, but no longer yours to dwell on. You call a cab, while surprised they even have cabs in the N109 zone. You put on your shoes and when the car arrives you get in softly and leave for Linkon.
~~~
The square is huge, and the sun was setting so beautifully. Sylus must be waking up right now. You missed the sun so dearly, so you just sit on a bench for a second, soaking up the lost time with your friend in space. The big fireball sets slowly, as if savoring the time with you just as much.
Taking a deep breath you realize you haven't smelled fresh air, truly fresh air, in months and a small smile graces your features. Once the sun has set completely you grab your phone and look for the nearest bar. Luckily for you, the nearest one was just a block away so you move from the bench to the bar.
For some reason your nerves are on edge, though you haven't seen Mephisto (You have learned all the birds hiding spots at this point) you felt like someone was watching you. Goosebumps form on your arm as you shake your head. You've just been on edge lately, your hormones and mental state are fried you tell yourself.
When you see the name of the bar illuminating the now darkening streets, you breathe a sigh of relief. Opening the mahogany doors your met with the smell of cigars, alcohol and cologne. Jazz music softly dances through the chatter of the people. You sit down at the bar and when the bartender asks you your order you ask him for a scotch neat, and as he walks away to grab your drink, you settle in your seat, focusing in on the way the trumpet conveys emotions that hit too close to home for your liking.
The clink of a glass makes you break your train of thoughts. You thank the bartender and take a sip of the amber liquid. The subtle burn flows down your throat and you feel yourself relax slowly. Though scotch would never be your first choice in other circumstances, it felt like it was called for today.
The chatter is consistent. You gaze at nothing really, letting your eyes cross the room as you take larger then necessary sips of your drink, and before you know it, your glass is empty. Ordering another one, you feel the familiar buzz of your phone still clutched in your hand.
You move it to your line of sight and your breath gets caught in your lungs when you see his name pop up. You don't even read the message, grabbing the drink that was just placed in front of you and downing it in one go. The burn was more significant this time and it makes you wince a bit. Tonight you were going to let go of everything, to the best of your abilities.
~~~
The cycle continues for a while, until you cannot read the time on your phone anymore and your positive that if you were to stand up right now your knees would buckle under the weight of the buzz in your brain.
It feels like it's been hours, maybe it has. You don't know anymore. When your certain you won't fall you get up to pay. The numbers felt astronomical to you, but you had gained Sylus's permission a long time ago to use his card, though you had never done so before, you decided today was the best time to do so.
The payment went through without a hitch and a lopsided grin dawns on your face. Your head was swimming and so was your vision, so finding the door turned out to be a bigger challenge then previously anticipated.
You not so graciously slam open the bar doors and inhale the fresh evening air. The temperature had dropped significantly, but being as inebriated as you were it didn't really bother you.
You walk. You don't know where, but for the first time in weeks, your heart didn't feel as heavy, and your steps felt almost giddy. Linkon was truly a sight to behold, technology far beyond what you had ever deemed possible, advanced to the point it was almost scary.
The buildings were tall, like, really tall. You marvel and look around in unabandoned glee. But then you feel it. An unfamiliar presence. You turn around as fast as you can without getting whiplash when suddenly your hoisted off the ground and tied up. You had no chance at resisting really so you let it happen.
Another deducted point in the battle between you and MC, because you could never fight your way out of this situation. So when the engine of the car your dumped into roars to life, all you can do is pray that Sylus still cares enough about you to come find you.
~~~
A/N: Y'all, thank you so much for the patience you have shown me! I'm very excited to know what you guys think of this new chapter! <33 Have a great day everyone💕
Summery: you find yourself in lads universe after a particularly close interaction with truck kun. How does life go from here after arriving in the N109 zone leaders backyard when MC hasn’t arrived yet?
Disclaimer, Sylus might be OOC, since i’m not very good at writing so bear with me. This will be multiple parts! Also, this was not proofread, so sorry if there are mistakes!
It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
These past few months you had been working yourself to the absolute bone. Summer had started and the restaurant you worked at was packed every single day.
You worked hard to keep your smile on your face, but there had been an increase of the rudest people to ever grace the planet, and they all simultaneously decided to grace you with their presence.
Every single day was a battle. You didn’t feel like you fit in anymore, colleagues living their lives, while yours felt like it was stuck in place. Every day was the same shit over and over again.
And then it happened.
You were on your way home from a particularly difficult shift, anticipating flopping on the couch to unwind with some love and deepspace. A game you had been playing for over a year now, making everything doable, when out of the blue a truck slams into you at full speed.
You feel all the air get blown out of you, as bones break. You hear people screaming, yelling for an ambulance.
This is it?
After all your hard work, this is how you die?
You scoff as unconsciousness pulls at you.
You awake with a jolt. Artificial grass prickles at your skin as you take in your surroundings.
“Am i dead?” You mumble, looking around in shock. No hospital lights. No pain. No nothing. You’re about to stand up when you feel something around your waist. It tightens as it spins you around hard. A sharp hiss of pain slips out as you are turned to someone.
“Who are you, and how did you get in?” The voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you recognise it immediatly.
Sylus.
How could you not recognise him? You had spent everyday after work with him. Interacting with him in destiny cafe, praying for a day you might get to see him, even just for a second.
You stare at him blankly. How does one even explain this situation? Would he believe you? Why would he? Would you believe someone if they casually dropped that they were from a different universe?
Questions and answers course through your mind till you feel his evol tightening even more.
“I said, who are you, and how did you get in?” His voice was sharp and menacing. His eyes glowing a dark crimson, as the wind softly swayed his hair. He truly looked divine, even when shooting daggers at you with his gaze.
“I-i don’t know how i got here. One moment i was on my way home from work, and now i’m here.” You confess, fear tugging at your heartstrings. You had seen him on your phone screen countless of times, but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for how breathtaking this man was in real life.
His eyes narrowed as a mocking grin spread across his face.
“Right, i’m supposed to believe you just ‘happened’ to land in the most tightly secured backyard of the whole N109 zone.” He scoffed. His eyes roamed your body, his eyebrow slightly tilting as if contemplating. You didn’t look fit enough to pull off a stunt like this. Cuz ur not.
“Trust me, don’t you have camera’s here?” You plead, his evol still tight around your waist. You feel it prickling, almost like electricity. Uncomfortable.
He raises an eyebrow.
The twins emerge from behind him, and even with their masks on, you can feel their curiosity radiate off of every inch of them.
Without a word he steps in the house, with you still tightly bound in his evol. He gracefully steps into his office as he places you not so gently into a chair.
“I’m not really in the mood for ‘games’ right now, so i do truly hope you’re telling me the truth.” He cocks his brow at you as he settles into his chair. You can’t help but be mesmerised by the absolute power and control he radiates just from sitting down.
He knows what he’s doing. Always. Even the smallest things are thought out before they can happen. You look at his face as he checks the footage, and to his surprise which he manages to hide very quickly, you were telling the truth. One moment the backyard looks peaceful, unperturbed, and the next, you’re there. It happens in the blink of an eye. No lights, no fireworks, nothing. Just sudden existence.
He looks at you, almost through you as he contemplates.
"It seems like you were telling the truth, kitten" The way he enunciates the word kitten sends goosebumps flying over your arms. The timbre in his low voice echoes through his office. How on earth were you going to survive this?
"I told you, i mean, who would be foolish enough to break into your territory?" You all but scoff. It's true though. Breaking into his lair, which in and off itself is impossible, would be a death sentence. Sylus was soft and mellow with MC in the game, but he never extended his kindness to anyone else.
It's a war in your head. At least your innocence is proven, but what about the rest? With nowhere to stay, how were you going to convince big bad boss man to keep you alive long enough to look for a way back. Could you even go back? Are you dead in your world?
His voice snaps you out of the war going on in your head.
"Explain"
"Huh?" You look at him sheepishly.
"Explain how you ended up in my backyard. I don't sense that you have an evol, or, anything for that matter, so how on earth did you get here?" His eye softly glows in the dim office. His features sharp, as the moon accentuates every line. Divine.
"Like i said, i was on my way home from work when-" The thought of the truck stops you dead in your tracks. The feeling of your bones crushing and consiousness fading still lingering beneath your flesh.
"When i got in an 'accident', i guess." Your voice got softer with each passing word. It was hard to make sense of what was happening. Though it was a literal answered prayer to be face to face with Sylus, the circumstances were far from ideal.
"Accident?" You could hear the amusement in his tone, he was intrigued. However, the thought of going into the details made you want to throw up, so you decide to change the subject.
"Could i stay here?" You blurt out the question, wincing at the lack of thought. All you could think about was needing a place to stay, but you didn't mean to throw it out there so haphazardly.
He raises his eyebrow, a small smirk appears, so small anyone would have missed it. But not you. You have spent so much time with him, he basically felt like you knew him better then yourself.
"Hmm? Bold aren't we, kitten?" All you can do is stare at him, what else are you supposed to do? You were literally throwing yourself in the dragons lions den.
"Here's an idea, you can work for me, i'll give you a spare bedroom in the eastern wing, close to the twins. If i do manage to find anything on you though, you can count your days."
Your mouth is agape. It's that easy? Suspicion creeps up, how could it not? You knew Sylus, and you also knew you were not MC. What was in this for him? But you were bone dead tired. This whole ordeal had sucked every last ounce out of you, and against better judgement, you nod in agreement.
He smirks.
The sight of him looking all pleased sends a shiver down your spine. Excitement? Fear? Both? Who knows. All you knew, was that you were going to do everything you could to prove your worth.
summary: Sylus has many secrets, some he lovingly keeps from you for you to find and others he hides from you to keep you safe. But on a fateful night in Elysium, all of that changes. Please read @thechaoticarchivist Workshop, Beneath the Stars (this is a complimentary fic to her work).
A/n: Kaits, thank you for indulging my very silly ideas and giving me so much writing inspiration 💕 this one's for you!!
tags: found family, adorable dangerous grandparents, fluff, draconic hoarding, non-canon compliant, original characters, light spoilers for Death and Rebirth.
Life is strange, you think, as you sit in the middle of Elysium on a Friday night.
It’s your day off. You’re surrounded by old timers, people who could be your grandparents. People who don’t look like they belong in the N-109 zone. People who you think could sire rambunctious grandchildren that belong behind white-picketed fences. Not people who should be living in a lawless land. And yet here they are. Laughing at something Sylus said, their expressions soft and knowing. Uncannily open in face of the leader of Onychinus.
Your hand hovers over the last text message with him, scrolling to remind yourself why you’re here.
🐦⬛: you’re available Friday, right?
🐈: yes and???
🐦⬛: I’ll pick you up at 4.
🐈: is this another mission of yours? Do I need to bring backup?
🐦⬛: something like that. We’re gathering intel. And no need for backup. Just bring your beautiful self, sweetheart.
And now, you were confused.
The enigma being Sylus Qin. Here dining in an oddly empty bar nestled in the N-109 zone, basking in the presence of an older man and woman—eyes crinkling in comfortable fondness and exchanging quips as if they’ve known each other for decades. The man who also holds an iron-grip over his terrority, now laughing freely as if he was in the confines of his own home. Even Genevra is sitting at the helm of this information-hub, calmly wiping whiskey glasses behind the counter as if nothing is amiss.
You glance between your company, trying to process this intel-not-quite-intel gathering mission.
This is so strange.
...
The woman sitting across from you is in a class of her own.
Manicured nails, short wavy hair reminding you of white cornflowers, slender torso wrapped in a layered navy dress. The way she carries herself reminds you of old wealth. Something mysterious, something structured, something refined—and yet the way her sapphire eyes arrest their gaze on you knowingly makes you think she’s dangerous.
She rests a hand against her cheek, lips curving into a coy smile, “Sylus, be a dear and introduce us to our guest.”
You raise an eyebrow to your companion. Explain.
He smirks and squeezes your thigh underneath the table. Patience, kitten.
“Sweetie, this is Gabriella and Harry.” He also nods towards the gentleman sitting beside her. “We met in the workshop I mentioned last week.”
Your wary demeanor melts immediately, turning towards them to give your warm regards.
“Sylus,” you huff in exasperation, “if you wanted to introduce me to your camping friends you didn’t have to do so under the pretense of a mission.”
“Where’s the fun in that? I thought you enjoyed these games.” His hand drifts higher, skirting the seams of your pants.
You promptly swat his hand away and chide, “And I thought we promised to be more sincere.”
Harry laughs, full-bellied and roaring like the patrons you’re familiar in dive bars. And if not for the tailored three piece-suit, coiffed auburn hair, or the mahogany cane he holds, you’d swear he was one of your co-workers who plastered themselves after work. Gabriella joins his laughter, giggling softly behind the rim of her coffee cup.
“Boy, when you said you needed help, I didn’t think you meant wooing a lovely lady like her.”
Sylus narrows his eyes into steely slits, a growl slipping in warning, “Harry.”
Gabriella interrupts, “You should have seen his face when he first entered the club. He looked like a lost cat. Thank goodness Harry and I were the first to greet him. He would have never learned to survive outdoors.”
He grumbles under his breath about certainly not being lost. You try not to laugh.
“I’m surprised you persisted for so long, boy. In fact,” Harry turns towards you, voice pitching low as if he’s divulging a secret, “when he first tried to pitch a tent by himself, he slammed the hammer against his toe instead of the spike.”
And then you fail spectacularly, the sudden image of Mr. Onychinus missing his mark so terribly sending you into a laughing fit.
“Ridiculous.” Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears are burning hot like coals. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
But it’s delightful seeing this new side of him. A man who is beyond the tactician, the leader, the killing perfection, the playful partner you know. You want to know more about the man who isn’t afraid to learn new things, who isn’t afraid to experience failure if it means finding new ways to spend more time with you. It’s endearing. You urge them to continue, leaning into the table as if listening to years of gossip you’ve missed out on.
Harry and Gabriella spend the rest of the night regaling tales of the great fish that got away (Sylus gutted it only to forget to bring it back to the campsite for dinner) and the horror of freeze-dried foods (Sylus has never hated the idea of non-perishable foods more in his life; he thinks the water ratios are blasphemy). All the while Sylus calmly reminds them of all the horrific pranks their great-grandchildren have unleashed upon the N-109 zone (The creation of grape-scented explosives is arguably the worse. Harry still denies the plausibility of encouraging his deviled offspring to continue pestering Sylus at every turn).
And with each story they unveil, you find yourself drifting into a state of euphoria.
The wine is flowing, the coffee is spilling over the edge and despite the excruciating embarrassment Sylus feels, he lifts you onto his lap and holds you close. Shamelessly to experience the shake of your shoulders, the peals of your laughter, the joy shining through every pore.
You thank the lucky stars you’ve chanced upon a partner like this, who treats you so preciously—like someone to be savored, someone to be revered—and you spend the rest of the night squeezing your hand in his, sending gentle reminders that you will never take these parts of him for granted. That you will cherish every part of himself he is willing to give if that means you, too, get to see him basking in the happiness he deserves.
“I missed this,” you whisper into his embrace.
He hums lightly, tucks his chin into the crevice of your shoulder, “Me, too.”
...
As the night turns into a violet haze, Gabriella gifts you an assortment of teas. A pretty wooden box bejeweled with rubies at the corners. You open your mouth to object, but in all the ways that reminds you of something oddly familiar, she places a soft finger upon your lips—not a word, darling. She turns to Sylus and kisses both of his cheeks in parting, straightening the lapels of his jacket as if she was a mother seeing off her child to school. Sylus returns the gesture, bowing to kiss her right hand instead. A sign of respect, of grace, of utmost gratitude.
You smile, your heart warming at the silent moments of endearments they exchange.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, lass.” You turn at the soft clack of Harry’s cane. His hair is tousled now, strands flowing in the wind as if he’s an extension of the setting sun. He opens his arms wide and you get the feeling you won’t be able to resist this either. You’re correct—the burly old man grabs your hand to pull you into a loving embrace, as if you’re last of his kin to leave the nest. “Thank you,” he slips a piece of paper into your hand as he leaves, eyes twinkling with mischief as he offers his arm to Gabriella as he leaves.
You open your mouth, then close it. The strangest feeling washes over you, like you skipped one too many steps on the road of life and were already accepted as the daughter-in-law into someone else’s family. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“Darling, you look like an angry fish. What’s wrong?”
You slap his arm, snickering at his soft ow to the pat you know couldn’t possibly hurt. “Nothing,” you lean into his shoulder, entwining your fingers between his. “Let’s go home.”
...
At the Onychinus base, Sylus retreats temporarily, murmuring about catching up on paperwork. 15 minutes, he chuckles at your showy petulance, and then you’ll have me for as long as you want.
And you, with the moon still high in the sky, choose to wander the hallways for a new distraction.
Sylus never objected to you exploring his own home, in fact he encouraged it.
When you first arrived after a mission gone wrong, he bandaged your wounds without a word. Gave you a room to call your own. Bought you strings of fairy lights and glow in the dark stickers to pepper the ceiling after you sheepishly admitted sleeping better without the darkness. And with each turn of the morning sun, he greeted you with a steaming cup of tea, a different blend for each day—as if he was trying to memorize you imprinting his spaces, creating a new routine just for you. You felt safer then, finding ways to adjust to this newfound softness.
And since then, he’s only reinforced that gentleness.
A kitchen stocked full of your favorite snacks. A movie theater decorated with your favorite films and his prized records. A pool with a separate sauna to sooth the aches of the day. Doors programmed to the sound of your voice.
And now you faced the one room you hadn’t dared explore until now, the room adjacent to Sylus’s bedroom. Before today, it felt too private. Like a secret you weren’t meant to reveal. Sylus would always redirect you from the door and instead bring you to his sleeping chambers. I’ll show you it someday, kitten. You respected that, gave him the space he effortlessly offered you each day.
You look down at the note crumpled between your fingers. I can tell you have many questions, child. You should enter the room next to Sylus’s.
But now, with the way Sylus invited you to meet Gabriella and Harry, the way he let down his walls amongst people like found family, you wonder if today would be the day to try.
You whisper silent apologies, hoping your instincts aren’t off their mark, and enter.
...
Unsurprisingly, the door opens for you without preamble.
And what greets you can only be described as a hoarder’s paradise.
In one corner is mound of plushies so high you can barely see the top of the ceiling. Comfie peanut, huggie bear, grumpy crow, chubby pig, even the elusive fussy kitty? At the base of the mound, is a hammock strung from one wall to another. Piled with your favorite hoodies, a fuzzy blanket, a fluffy throw pillow, and books you know you’ve shared with him (You have to read this! He laughed and kissed your brow—ok, kitten, but I fear if you recommend me any more books, my bookshelves will tumble with only reminders of you). Below your feet is the softest rug you’ve felt in existence, tufts of animal fur hugging your toes—a kind you don’t dare ask the name of in fear of learning its horrifying price tag.
On the other side of the room, there are hundreds of photos pinned to the remaining walls. Some taped, some framed, some stabbed into sheets of cork board. Some of you, some of him (albeit a very young Sylus), some of both you together, some of Luke and Kieran, some of random items you don’t recognize, and plenty from a couple you swear you saw moments before.
Gabriella and Harry?
You trace their faces in awe, reading the descriptions in each frame.
Gabriella, 1st place winner of the Zoion hunt for the 12th year in the row. Harry, 2nd place Zoion hunt winner for the 8th year in the row. Gabriella’s and Harry’s grandchildren. First batch of protocores wrapped by the dollies from Gabriella’s knitting club. First pair of guns from Harry, need more practice at the shooting range. First place medal at annual shooting contest between Luke, Kieran, and Harry. Sylus’s graduation from Gabriella’s and Harry’s boxing academy.
And before you know it, you’re crouched on the floor crying. Shaking from relief knowing he had people who loved and still love him, from guilt knowing you couldn’t be there for him when you were separated through portals of space and time, from pure adoration knowing he’s remembered every detail you’ve told him, even on the days you weren’t sure he was listening.
He finds you much later, sniffling into one of the many grumpy crow plushies. Swinging on the hammock he spent hours installing with Luke and Kieran. Sifting through a worn-down copy of Pride and Prejudice.
He smiles and joins you, wiping away your tears. Gently bookmarks the page he knows you’ve reread a thousand times, sighs as you fold into the safety of his arms once more.
“Finally,” his heart slows to a comforting rhythm, beat for beat matching yours, “Finally, you found me.”
:( I wanna make lads edits, get back into writing, stream more on twitch and put more content out But I be so damn exhausted from life and work. I’m so close to 1k followers and I’m proud of myself for staying consistent. Yet… It just sucks. I have a decently good paying job but I hate working full time and having oncall shifts.
I just want a simpler life but I’m a slave to capitalism
Elysium
[Sylus/Reader ★ 16K words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3]
Beneath the azure sky and across the luscious green grassland, a love story unfolds.
A/N: AO3 user InsomniacForevermore planted an itsy bitsy seed in my head, and…it grew...out of control, actually… 👁👄👁 My Grassland!Sylus Childhood friends/Arranged Marriage/Soulmates AU is finally here and I only had to sacrifice four nights of sleep for it. 🥹
(btw, not necessary, but…listen to DJ Sammy’s Heaven – Candlelight Mix while reading...or post-reading, whichever)
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
elysium — n. a place or state of ideal happiness
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The warriors are home!
You first heard the excited cries while tending to your flock of sheep on the grassland. All around you and from far away, people were already abandoning their tasks and chores to rush to the village entrance to greet and welcome the returning warriors.
“Sylus is also back!” one of the young maidens cried with delight.
Your heart paused at hearing his name, your breathing coming out uneven. Instinctively, you also rose to your feet. You left behind your flock to idly graze as your feet took off running at a breakneck speed back to the village. When you had arrived, a large, dense crowd had already formed at the square. The elders and the chief—your father—were praising the warriors’ heroic victories against opposing tribes, but among those who was lavished with the most praises was Sylus. His build larger than the other men and his intimidating height towering above others. Even from the back of the crowd, you could see him clearly.
Your heart quickened, seeing his sharp eyes surveyed the large crowd, going from face to face. The moment his eyes locked in on your petite form, his cold expression broke, the intimidating glare softened completely as he pushed through the crowd and rushed to you. In just seconds, he had gathered you into his arms, lifting you high above the crowd.
Laughter and cheers broke out at the sight of Sylus holding you up high, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs. You steadied your balance, hands resting on his shoulders, gasping and laughing, “Welcome home!”
He smiled back lovingly and murmured for your ears only, “I’m home.”
“Today, let us feast and praise our young men for the glory they have brought upon our tribe!” the chief declared, his words met by loud cheers and thunderous applauses all around.
You were helping bringing the food to the banquet when you felt a strong grip on your arm, tugging you gently back. You steadied the basket of flatbreads you carried and looked up, meeting Sylus’ gaze. He smiled at you mischievously.
“Let the other girls handle this,” he said, tossing a look to the other young women behind you giggling and smiling with envy. “Come with me.”
You couldn’t get a word out as one of the girls came over and took your basket from you, all of them laughing and prodding you to leave with Sylus, much to your embarrassment.
“Go on, we know how much you have been missing him,” one of the girls said, batting her eyelashes teasingly at you.
“It’s a wonder our sheep didn’t get stolen away by wild beasts while its shepherd was so lovesick,” another teased as she exaggeratedly patted her heart rhythmically.
“Was she now?” Sylus asked, amused. He gave you a knowing glance and you glared right back at him.
“Oh, hush, all of you.” You rolled your eyes at your so-called friends before grabbing Sylus’ hand and dragging him away, your ears burning as you could still hear the laughter and cheering.
You paused in your steps once you both were out of sight. You looked up at Sylus, feeling sheepish now. “Um…Actually, I don’t know where we are going…”
He laughed and shook his head. “I was wondering where you were dragging me off to.” He leaned down and pinched your cheek, his grin widening. “The chief’s daughter still gets so easily flustered when others talk about her betrothed, hmm?”
“Sylus, quit it!” You rubbed at your sore cheek with a pout.
“I can’t help myself,” he said, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I have missed seeing you and hearing your voice these last few months.”
Your arms slowly encircled around his waist. You looked up with a bashful smile. “So…you felt the same?”
“Do you doubt me, my beloved?”
He leaned down and kissed your lips. It felt just as sweet and tender as you remembered when he last kissed you goodbye months ago. He parted, but his gaze remained on you, searching—beseeching.
“I would never,” you responded, standing on your toes and stealing another kiss from him, much to both his surprise and delight.
“Come,” he said, breaking away and smirking at your disappointed pout. “I have the horses ready.”
“The horses?”
“We have much to catch up on, my beloved,” he said, taking your hand in his, “And I do not wish for prying ears to listen in on our conversations.”
You rode upon your chestnut-colored mare while Sylus rode his stallion, its black coat sheening in the sunlight on the grassland. The horses walked leisurely across the plane side-by-side as their owners idly conversed. You excitedly rambled on and on about the most mundane events that had happened in his absence, only becoming acutely aware of his silence when you caught sight of his smirk.
“…I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
He shook his head in disagreement. “I have missed your voice,” he answered, “Won’t you tell me more?”
You felt embarrassed by how much you were talking, and even more so when you realized he was listening and watching you with such rapt attention. You shook your head fervently. “No, it’s your turn to talk.”
“It won’t be nearly as entertaining as your story of the goat herder getting drunk and falling asleep in the goat pen while his goats took over his home.”
You rolled your eyes. “I will not be swayed by such weak flattery.”
“Then shall I serenade to you instead, my beloved?”
You covered your ears. “These mortal ears are not worthy of such…unearthly…singing.”
He huffed. “My men have enjoyed my singing these past few months,” he responded proudly, “Surely, my future bride would as well.”
“They’ve truly earned their feast tonight then,” you murmured more to yourself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing—” You paused, your playfulness disappearing instantly the moment you caught sight of several small colorful pouches in the saddlebag on Sylus’ horse, items meant to proclaim affections for the receiver of them. You didn’t even think before blurting out, “Who gave you those pouches?”
You silently cursed the moment you realized what you had asked. You tried to look away nonchalant, missing the smirk rising on Sylus’ face.
“Jealous?”
“No…” You nudged your horse, urging her to walk faster.
Sylus did the same with his horse, matching your pace. “These were welcome home presents.”
“Were they?” Even though you tried to maintain a façade of indifference, you felt your skin crawling at the thought. Against your better judgment, your mind was already racing through the names and faces of all the village girls that could have gifted him those pouches. You played out possible scenarios of how the events could have transpired. You pictured those girls giggling and blushing as they handed him their homemade pouches that they had spent so much time on for him.
You pictured him—smiling. At those girls. Smiling, as he received their gifts. Smiling, as his hand might accidentally brushed against theirs. Smiling…
At others.
Sylus called your name, and you found yourself breaking out of your self-imposed stupor. You turned away to hide your red cheeks, embarrassed by your sudden behavior change. You tried to speak calmly, suddenly becoming very aware of how stiff your voice sounded, but it was better than to let your actual emotions come through. “It will get dark soon. We should head back.”
“Are you jea—”
You kicked your mare’s sides, urging her to take off at a gallop. You didn’t want to hear him finish that sentence, didn’t want to think further about what had transpired. You knew you were behaving irrationally and immature, but you felt like you couldn’t face him, couldn’t stand for him to see you in such a vulnerable, ugly state.
Sylus chuckled as he watched you atop your mare, racing away across the land in the direction of the village. He tugged at his stallion’s rein, yelling, and his own horse took off after yours. Even though he had allowed you a head start, it didn’t take long for Sylus’ horse to close the distance.
You could hear the heavy hooves of the stallion behind you, and you urged your mare to run faster. It was a futile attempt to evade the approaching party. In a matter of seconds, Sylus’ stallion was running side by side with your mare again.
Your eyes widened when Sylus leaned over, his strong legs still keeping him steady on his horse. He grabbed you by the waist from your horse and easily carried you over to his, ignoring your panicked cries. The stallion had slowed to a halt, giving Sylus a chance to settle you and him more comfortably atop the horse. You watched with dismay as your mare continued galloping back to the village, leaving you trapped with Sylus. You looked up, shooting Sylus a heated glare.
“Why did you do that?!”
“Why are you glaring at me?”
“Why did you grab me like that?!”
“Why did you run away?”
“Why—why—”
He waited, his arrogant smile making you even more flustered and angry and emotional. Your glare wavered; you could feel the hot tears brimming in your eyes. You hurriedly blinked them away, but now you could also feel your chest tightening with pain, your breathing coming out ragged. The longer Sylus looked at you and the more you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the worse you felt, knowing a dam was about break and you could do nothing to stop it.
“So why—" Sylus stopped. His smile faltered when you finally broke down crying:
“Why…did you accept them?”
“What?”
You buried your face in your hands, crying, unable to calm yourself or keep the hot tears at bay. You shook and sobbed, your words tumbling uncontrollably out of your mouth, “Why did you accept those girls’ pouches?”
Sylus looked down at you, shocked, not expecting to see you crying, your voice holding so much hurt and pain, he felt guilty for putting you in such a state. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back to rest against his chest. He shushed you softly as he whispered apologies while you cried. You felt him burying his face in your hair, his chest pressing closer to your back, and you couldn’t understand why, but the act itself just made you cry harder as you wrapped your arms around his, hurt and scared and angry.
As dusk settled in, painting the sky in purple and orange, the air felt heavy. In the wide expanse of the grassland, the plane stretched for miles and miles, seemingly endless. You were but a speck in the field, and in that moment in his arms, you truly felt so small and insignificant.
As you returned to the village, nightfall had already descended. You and Sylus had ridden back in silence, the awkward atmosphere only worsening with each passing minute. Sylus had kept an arm protectively around your waist the entire time while his other hand held the rein. You looked down, eyes following the horse’s hooves as he trotted back to the village.
“We’re almost back,” Sylus’ soft voice broke through the tensed atmosphere.
You looked up, seeing the huts that lined the outskirt of the village and your mare quietly grazing in the distance. You wriggled a little, but that only made Sylus tightened his hold. You looked down at his arm around you and you said softly, “Let me down. I can walk back.”
“No,” he answered.
“Sylus—"
He suddenly yanked the rein, forcing the horse to turn around in a different direction.
“Sylus?!” you looked up, panicked, not expecting this sudden change in pacing. Sylus’ sight remained ahead, and your heart sped up at the view of seeing his handsome face from this angle, bathed only in moonlight.
Sylus commanded his horse skillfully and you both rode atop the stallion at a brisk pace across the grassland. The cool night breeze brushed against your cheeks, drying your earlier tears. You even found yourself starting to smile and laugh, the adrenaline taking over and stealing away your earlier anguish.
Eventually, Sylus took you back to the village once he had seen that you had calmed down. The horses were returned to their stable. After giving your mare a comforting stroke down her mane, you turned just as Sylus handed you the saddlebag. You looked up surprised.
“They mean nothing to me,” he said resolutely, “Burn them.”
“I’m not going to…”
He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, making you swallowed your words. “I had never meant to make you upset or have you cried like that, nor did I mean to make you jealous…”
“I was not jea—”
He leaned down and kissed your lips, silencing you. You dropped the saddlebag, the pouches spilling out on the ground. “Sy—”
He lifted you into his arms and you looked up in surprise. “What are you—"
He carried you out of the stable before letting you down again. You looked at him exasperatedly. “You always do what you want—this is not fair…”
“What’s not fair?”
“It’s not fair…how…I’m the only one…feeling insecure…”
In the village square, you could hear the celebration dying down as people started making their way home. The bonfire in the center still blazed brightly.
“You are right,” Sylus responded, “I don’t feel insecure.”
Your shoulders slumped and you kept your eyes lowered. You suddenly felt Sylus’ finger under your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his.
“You were promised to me,” he said, hushed, “And I to you.”
He kissed you. “We are meant to be, and were we not, I would rewrite the stars, to change the course of destiny and weave a new tapestry of fate to make you mine.”
His forehead pressed to yours. “My beloved,” he held his gaze with yours, “I will always choose you, in this life and the next. Whether we are meant to be or not—”
He kissed you again, and the last remnants of your jealousy and hurt faded away.
I will always choose you.
The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep.
As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes.
“Is this what you do when I’m not here?”
You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?”
You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I…was blinking.”
“Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.”
“I had some dust in my eyes.”
“I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.”
You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?”
“Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries.
Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly, wondering if this meant what you thought it meant. It was at that moment, though, that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face.
“Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly.
He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused.
“I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.”
“R-really?”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Sylus…” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke.
“Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.”
You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head.
How…ethereal...
He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.”
You looked down at him confused.
“My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?”
You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?”
He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.”
“You’ll put it back on for me, right?”
He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said lightly, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will…my bride.”
For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, your mind replaying what he had just said over and over again. Slowly, you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body.
“This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, your faces just barely apart, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.”
“Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself willingly and helplessly drown in those passionate crimson eyes.
“I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.”
Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.
Hands intertwined, you returned to the village with Sylus, his handmade wreath worn proudly on your head. There were envious looks directed at you and sighs of resignation heard here and there. You felt a squeeze from Sylus’ hand and you answered back with your own.
His love for you had always been true and steadfast.
When you looked back on your years together, it seemed he was always there, always yours.
The boy who was promised to you and you to him. An oath had been formed between two powerful families long before either of you came into the world, but perhaps it was always meant to be, because never once did either of you seemed to rebel against your destiny.
You grew up alongside him on the grassland, running barefoot and riding horses across the endless green pasture under the sun. It was a rich childhood filled with laughter and smiles, skinned knees and clumsy first kisses, with the boy who had carried you on his small back home. With the boy who had promised to grow up and become the strongest warrior on the grassland. With the boy who had sworn he would always keep you safe and protected.
The same boy, one day, had become a man, who had unwittingly stolen many young maidens’ hearts, but his own he had safeguarded and kept for you alone.
The man who would always find his way back to you no matter how far his duties may take him.
The man who would soon become your husband, the promise made so long ago between two families would now be honored.
You tightened your hold on his hand, and he smiled down on you.
That smile alone seemed to have banished any lingering insecurities you had. As you stared into his eyes, falling deeper and deeper, you knew nothing could ever sway him, could ever tear him from you. Likewise, there was no one else in your eyes and heart.
It was always going to be him.
There was much to celebrate in the coming weeks. Weddings after weddings took place across the village as one after another, couples were married off.
In the middle of spring, on a warm and sunny day, you were the last to be wedded, but your wedding ceremony was the most extravagant. As the only daughter of the village’s chief, you were the pride and joy of your father. From birth, you and Sylus had already been matched, your future destined together, and now as young adults, the day for your wedding was finally here.
Dressed in red and gold, the colors symbolizing love and prosperity, the elder women prepared you for your groom. You pressed your lips between a lipstick paper, staining them crimson as your cheeks were painted in a similar shade with the rouge made from the scarlet flowers gathered in the grassland. Your hair had been cleansed, fragranced, and styled with gold and red flowers decorating your tresses. You were the very image of a new bride, and now the time had come for you to go meet your groom.
As you made your way through the village, passing cheers from well-wishers, your eyes honed in on Sylus waiting for you at the end. Your breath hitched, your heart speeding up. Dressed in a matching red/gold ceremonial robe and trousers, he waited for you with a smile. You couldn’t help but noted appreciatively how the robe he wore brought out the beauty in his eyes.
His crimson eyes were always so sharp and piercing, able to strike fear into his enemies’ hearts, but when he gazed upon you, there was only soft, gentle joy, love, and gratitude.
The happiness he felt in this moment, knowing soon, by the day’s end, you would be his wife from now until the end of your time on this earthly plane.
The love he felt for you was deeper than the ocean’s depth, unmatched by any force in this world. He would lay down his life for you, rebel against the gods for you, he would submit to you time and time again.
The gratitude he felt for being born into the same lifetime as yours, to be able to have you as his, to build a life with you. He couldn’t begin to express the depths of his gratitude, but he would gladly spend the rest of his life trying.
As you approached him, his gaze seemed to soften even more. You stood facing him, your heart beating faster than normal. One large hand cupped your face and you smiled, leaning into his touch, feeling your heart steadying again.
Soon, he and you would be tethered together in matrimony, your bond witnessed by your village and the heavens above.
You exhaled slowly as the priest began the ceremony.
“May the gods and goddesses bless this pair, allow their union to be fruitful and their happiness endless.”
You stole a glance at Sylus, startling when you met his crimson gaze already settled on you. The fond smile he wore quickly transitioned to a smirk at your flustered expression. You started to look away out of sheer embarrassment, but you caught sight of him quietly mouthing to you: “Eyes on me.”
You found yourself obediently listening to him, your focus entirely on the man you were marrying. Likewise, Sylus kept his own eyes on you.
Time felt sluggish as the ceremony wore on, your body moving through the motions and unable to truly comprehend anything that was said. You didn’t even remember when the ceremony finally ended, only breaking out of your daze when the whole village erupted in cheers as even more scarlet flowers were tossed and thrown in the air to celebrate.
Now husband and wife, you linked arms with Sylus as you made your way back to the square, smiling and laughing as everyone cheered and blessed your marriage. You looked up just as Sylus leaned down and captured your lips, his sudden public display of affection causing a commotion.
While you were hyperaware of the many eyes on the two of you, Sylus appeared unconcerned. To him, there was no one else around. It was just the two of you.
“My bride…”
From morning to sundown to nightfall, it seemed like the celebration would never end. The feast was plentiful, the alcohol abundant, and all around you, people enjoyed the festivity to their hearts’ contents, feeling encouraged to engage in gluttony and merriment for this one special day. It was not every day that many would witness such a blessed union as this marriage between the most powerful warrior in the village and the chief’s daughter. There was much cause for celebration, much joyous anticipation for the bright future that was to come.
While everyone was taking part in the merriment, you and Sylus sat at your own private table, idly chatting and dining, unable to tear your eyes away from one another. You were feeding him some fruits when the village herbalist brought forth a tray with two wooden bowls filled to the brim with a specially prepared wine for newlyweds, the alcohol laced with a potent aphrodisiac. You took one of the wooden bowls hesitantly while Sylus grabbed the other. You took an uneasy glance at your new husband.
He smirked, meeting your gaze. Without any hesitation, Sylus raised his bowl to his lips, downing the wine in mere seconds. You felt a flutter in your belly before you drank from your own bowl, feeling the alcohol burning down your throat. The wine itself rushed to your head, already causing you to feel a little tipsy.
With your inhibitions suddenly lowered, Sylus pulled you to him, his lips seizing yours, and you tasted the rich wine still staining his lips while he tasted yours. You were told the wine would take some time to take effect, so you wondered why you felt so lightheaded in that moment from just a mere kiss.
“Come away with me,” Sylus murmured, his lips just a breath from yours. Taking your hand in his, Sylus dragged you to your feet, steadying you, before leading you away.
He spirited you away to the field on the outskirt of the village. You both left behind the raucous celebration, hearing the drunken laughter and singing fading with each step you took. As the other villagers continued in their festive merriments, no one noticed the absence of the newly wedded bride and groom.
On the outskirt of the village, there was no lamp or bonfire to light the way—only the distant stars overhead to guide you through the darkness. You passed the slumbering flock of sheep, all clustered together for warmth and protection.
“They need to be sheared soon,” you remarked, laughing as you pointed out the fluffiest of the bunch.
He smiled and grabbed your hand again, fingers intertwining together. He led you far away from the village, across the grassy plane.
How strange. You had run barefoot on these grass as children, and now you were walking side-by-side as husband and wife. You not-so-subtly leaned closer to him. He smiled.
“Where are we going?” you asked, looking up at your new husband.
Sylus shrugged. “Away,” he answered, “It’s too noisy back there.”
You laughed. “Celebrations are supposed to be noisy.”
He shrugged again. “I do not care for them.”
“How ironic, coming from a man who has been celebrated for his many feats all of his life.”
He chuckled, but decided not to deign a response to your quip. Instead, he paused in his steps, turning to face you, asking, “Shall I take you away from this place then?”
“And go where?”
“Wherever you would like,” he answered, making suggestions, “The sea, the mountains—”
“And if I say I enjoy our life on this grassy plane?”
He smiled. “Then I will build the biggest hut worthy of my bride.”
You giggled. “Such a powerful boast,” you said, humoring him. “What if I don’t like it?”
“Then I will build a new one.”
“What if I they all displease me?”
“I will still have a lifetime to please my fickle bride,” he responded, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. You both stumbled back, rolling down on the grass until you laid beneath him. Your cheeks suddenly felt warmer. Sylus peered down at you with a knowing smile. “My bride is suddenly silent…”
You looked up, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your senses suddenly heightened as you became all too aware of the close proximity of Sylus to you. He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against yours.
Above him, the dark night sky loomed overhead, millions upon millions of stars scattered the heavens, bearing witness to the sacred union on the grassy plane. You felt a slight warmth in your body, but you brushed the feeling aside.
“The moon…” you murmured, gaze looking past him at the bright, full orb in the sky, “She is beautiful…”
“Indeed,” he answered, hushed, eyes fixated only on you. His long, slender finger trailed down your smooth cheek as he spoke softly, “Have I stolen a goddess to be my wife?”
“Such sacrilegious words,” you chided him, but Sylus responded with a roguish grin, stealing your lips and taking your reprimand with delight.
He hummed and murmured in between the sweet kisses, “Am I wrong? Would the gods not bow down to your beauty? Would goddesses not become green with envy and wish to covet the love I have for you?”
You gasped for breath, unsure if your racing heart was spurred by his relentless kisses or the feverish words he had so sweetly uttered. You panted softly, voice still scolding, “The hubris of this mortal man…”
He pressed his forehead to yours, laughing, “I speak of only the truth—my truth.”
“The gods will surely punish you for such loose lips.”
“To bear punishments simply because my only crime is that I wish to lavish my bride with praises and love?” He kissed you again, a haughty smile graced his face. “Then let them punish me.”
The warmth in your body spread. Surely, such words couldn’t have this much of an effect on you, right? You vaguely noticed Sylus’ own expression seemed more heated, his eyes darkening with a look of desire and longing.
He kissed you again, but you felt it was different from the previous light, affectionate pecks. He was practically ravaging your soft lips to the point you felt like you would bruise. You moaned against his mouth, this burning inside of you worsening as you kissed him back just as eagerly.
As the night wore on, you began to notice the effects of the aphrodisiacs settling in, feeling the warmth spread in your body and seeing the flushed look on your new husband’s face.
“Sy-Sylus…” you called for him, and his lips and teeth grazed along your neck. You panted and tugged at his ceremonial clothes urgently. “I…I feel so warm…”
“I know,” he husked back, hand cradling your face. He breathed in sharply. He himself was also beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiacs on his body, and coupled with the erotic sight of your flushed expression, he could feel himself hardening, needing you just as much as you needed him in this moment. He kissed your lips again, his voice coming out in soft pants, “I cannot wait to go back to our hut. I must have you now.”
You nodded, your body was aching, yearning for him in a way you had never felt before. You tossed your head to the side, your arms reaching up to wrap around your body, your own hands tugging at your clothes impatiently. “It’s so hot…Sylus…my body…it…it feels…it feels like…like it’s throbbing…I…I…”
He groaned at your words. He pulled away, and you looked upset at the sudden loss of contact, already missing his heavy weight on you, his warm heat against you, his soft touches on you. You whined softly, needing him on you again.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, breathless.
“With my life,” you answered immediately, and he smiled.
He knelt before you, like a devout follower, your body his temple to worship at. He offered you his kisses, words praising your beauty. You watched, eyes glazed over, your throat drying, as he removed his clothes tossing them to the side unceremoniously. You felt the ache inside you worsened as you took in the magnificent appearance of your husband, your eyes raking up and down his glorious body. Your breath hitched as you bore witness to his manhood, feeling both trepidation and excitement swirling inside you.
He reached out and disrobed you, his own eyes greedily taking in the sight of your exposed body. There was no other beauty or treasure in the world that could entice him the way he was feeling for you in this moment.
“Lay back,” he ordered, and though you were confused, you obeyed him. Suddenly, your eyes widened when he had your legs slung over his powerful shoulders while he settled between your parted thighs. You felt his warm breath trailing along your thigh, reaching your core.
“Sylus, what are you—ohh…” your head fell back as you let out a moan, feeling his mouth pressing against your most intimate area.
His mouth…he is… “Ahh…!” You covered your mouth, embarrassed by the unexpected noises you were making.
“Don’t.” Sylus looked up, chiding you gently, “I want to hear more. I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”
“Ohhh…” You could feel him parting your slick lips, his tongue diving in and stroking against you in all of the right places. Your hips moved on their own, wanting more of this stimulating sensation he was bringing to you.
You opened your eyes a crack, barely able to see him, but you did catch a glimpse of his hand, seeing it wrapped around his magnificent manhood, pumping it urgently as he continued to pleasure you. You could feel your body pulsing at the sight, your breathing coming out in quick gasps and moans.
“Sylus…ohhh…”
You whimpered, feeling an unfamiliar sensation happening to your body. “Sylus—I…I feel strange…ahh…ahh…”
“Do you feel good?” he pulled back just a moment to check in on you, a smirk on his face. You whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention. He laughed and continued. You cried out when Sylus’ other hand pressed against you, brushing over an area that had you bucking against him. He continued stroking that same spot, feeling that sensitive little pearl, that was making you cry and moan so desperately, the erotic sounds you were making had him stroking himself harder and faster. Your helpless cries rose in pitch, coming out faster…and faster…and—
Your hips bucked up, your head tossed to the side as you let out a strangled moan, fingers finding only grass to hold onto as your body experienced the most euphoric sensation you had ever felt.
Sylus lapped at you greedily, forgetting his own pleasure as he wanted to only extend yours. You had never felt this high, this searing, hot pleasure coursing through your body. You focused on the feeling, wanting to hold onto it for as long as you could.
You were panting so hard, body trembling uncontrollably with pleasure. You didn’t know how long the heavenly feeling lasted, but when you felt the haze starting to subside, you realized Sylus was lavishing you with kisses. You hummed back tiredly, feeling his hands explored your body. You moaned as he squeezed your breast experimentally.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft. He pressed a kiss into the nape of your neck.
“So…so good…” You said, but then you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him again. You still felt so hot inside, still not fully satisfied. You whimpered to him, “Sylus…the wine…”
He panted, his hand cupping your sex, the friction from it only easing your ache a little. You needed more. Instinctively, your hips moved on their own, your body trying to seize whatever friction it could to satisfy this agonizing ache inside you.
“You are still so wet,” he murmured, laughing softly to himself, “This is good…”
You were confused by his words, but Sylus immediately kissed you again, reassuring you. “I’ll quell the fire inside you.”
Your eyes widened when he aligned himself to you, the head of his massive manhood pressing into your slick folds. You bit down on your lip, wincing from the unfamiliar sensation as you felt more and more of him entering. You gasped, tensing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Bear with the pain a little, my bride.”
You arched forward, voice scared. “Sylus—!”
He hushed you softly as he pressed more of himself into you slowly, groaning as he felt your walls stretching to accommodate him. He gauged your reaction closely, pleased as you became used to the feeling of him penetrating you.
He watched as your expression slowly changed, your arousal coming back stronger as he sheathed himself fully inside you. For a moment, he remained still, buried completely inside you and letting you adjust to the feeling. His lips found yours again, his hand slipping into yours.
“Ahh…m…more…”
Sylus’ ears perked up the moment he heard your soft plea. He began moving. Slow, careful movements at first, and then he slammed into you, making you cry out as stars filled your vision. Once he was sure you were enjoying yourself, he picked up his pacing, setting a hard, fast rhythm.
You writhed beneath him on the grass, moaning as he spread you more, taking you in deeper. His kisses trailed down your neck to your chest, his mouth finding your nipple to suckle. You squirmed when his tongue teased the sensitive nub, swirling around it until it hardened. “Sylus!”
He groaned when your fingers found his hair, tugging at him, urging him on. His voice was heavy with arousal when he spoke, “Taking me so well…my beloved beautiful bride…” He kissed your neck, his hands explored your body, learning and memorizing all of the curves that only he would ever know and trace. He memorized the way you sounded, the way your body was trembling with pleasure as it felt every burning touch and thrust from him.
“Sylus…more…more…please…”
He smiled and kissed your lips, swallowing your pleas hungrily.
Every powerful thrust had you calling his name, begging and pleading for him to go deeper and harder and faster. He answered your desperate pleas, giving you everything you were begging for. “Sylus—I am…ahh…it’s…close…”
He grunted. He could feel it too, knowing you were so close to coming undone again by him. That sweet, mounting pleasurable feeling you had felt earlier was almost here, just within reach, a little more, and—
You could feel your world tipping over, a white-hot searing pleasure coursing through your body, more powerful than the last. You didn’t know which god or goddess to praise for the intense pleasure this man was bringing to you, but you continued to cry out anyway. You gripped the grass, tugging until you pulled them free from the ground. The grass blades slipped from your fingers and scattered in the wind.
Sylus continued to rock into you, his own climax nearing. His hands gripped tightly your hips as he pounded into you with enough force that your breasts bounced. His hand skimmed over your flat belly, already imagining it growing heavy with a new life inside.
“Going to have you bear my children,” he murmured against your ear, his large hand gripping your much smaller one.
You moaned at his words. This was to be your role. You had always known it. The women were expected to bear their husbands’ children, the future of the village depending on these fruitful unions. For a powerful warrior like him, there was even more pressure for you to conceive, to bear him many strong sons who would inherit and carry on his legacy.
“Yes, yes,” you answered him breathlessly. You held onto him as he drove into you, his words reigniting the fire inside you. You whined softly into his shoulder. “Please, Sylus…”
“Oh, gods,” he grunted, “You are going to look so beautiful, my beloved.”
You mewled at his words. “More…ah…tell me more…”
His breath hitched, but he continued, his own words making him dizzy with pleasure. He was smirking as he panted, “Would you like that, my beloved? Would you like to grow big and round with my baby in your womb?”
You whimpered. It was your role. It was your duty. However, the way he asked, the way his deep voice sounded, rasping with desire, made you realized that you did want to have his babies—not out of obligation, but as an expression of your sincere love for him. You gasped and cried out, “Yes!”
That one word seemed to have driven Sylus wild. He spread you more and drove in deeper, his powerful thrusts unrelenting as he neared his own release. Your cries echoed in the dark night sky. You practically squealed, unprepared for this sudden aggressive switch.
“You’re going to carry my baby,” he murmured, nearly delirious with desire, “Grow big and round with my baby. Everyone will know. Everyone will know it is my baby in your womb, my baby that I fucked into you.”
You panted and moaned, your hands searching desperately for anything to hold onto, anything to keep you grounded as he took you for himself. Normally so sweet and affable with you, his sudden lewd words had you throbbing all over again. You didn’t realize you could get so aroused by such obscene words, but you found your body was craving more. You wanted to hear him say more of these perverted words, wanted to hear these indecent thoughts spoken aloud by his deliciously and sinfully deep voice. You wanted him to act on his lascivious desires, wanted those words to come true, wanted him to actually fuck a baby into you. You whimpered his name, gasping and pleading.
Sylus leaned in closer to you and you instantly encircled your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around you, lifting you off the ground, your legs locking around his waist as he penetrated you deeply, hitting that sweet spot that had you feeling that same euphoric feeling approaching again.
“You are going to look beautiful—so fucking gorgeous—heavy with my baby in you. Going to keep feeling you, going to fuck you over and over again while you are pregnant.”
His movements had become hurried and graceless, his own words mixed with your reactions had him close to the edge. “Gonna fill you up, gonna keep you full, gonna make sure my seed take.”
“Oh, Sylus—I am going to—ahh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
You felt it, it was coming again, it was mounting, getting tighter, so close, so close, so fucking close—
You screamed your release into his shoulder, your nails scraping frantically along his back as you felt him emptied into you, filling and flooding your womb full of his seed. You bit down into his shoulder, and he hissed with pain and pleasure. There was just so much.
“Sylus—ahh, I…I feel so…full…”
He groaned and buried his face into your neck. His voice was low and commanding, “Take every last drop.”
“Ahh…Sylus…Sylus…”
He lifted your head from his shoulder, and he leaned forward, your lips his to take. You trembled against him, the aftershocks of your release still coursing through your spent body. You stayed in his arms, boneless and satisfied, the effects of the aphrodisiacs finally wearing off.
You looked at him with half-hooded eyes, meeting his own satiated gaze. His lips found yours again, his kisses more tender this time as you stayed in each other’s embrace longer as you both slowly came back down from your shared climaxes.
You lay with him beneath the stars, the cool spring breeze a welcoming presence after your heated lovemaking. You nestled into Sylus’ embrace, sighing softly when he tightened his hold. He covered you both loosely with his ceremonial robe as you basked in the afterglow.
You prayed for this moment to last, to always remember every single detail of this night. Among the million stars above, you hoped at least one would hear your silent prayer and make it come true. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped by Sylus’ warmth. As you slipped into a deep slumber, you could hear Sylus’ rich, deep voice murmuring softly:
“My beloved bride…I love you.”
As daybreak came, you found yourself waking up on top of fur, feeling a strong, protective arm wrapped around you. When you looked up, you didn’t see the sky. You looked around and realized you were inside a hut.
You heard soft snoring and looked up, seeing Sylus’ sleeping face close to yours. You smiled as memories of the previous day rushed back through your mind, your cheeks tinging pink as you remembered the passionate night beneath the stars with him on the grassland.
You snuggled into his embrace, his now familiar warmth enveloping you. Sylus stirred when he felt your movements. He looked down and smiled, kissing the top of your head.
“Good morning, my bride.”
You smiled, answering him, “Good morning…my husband.”
The one word seemed to have robbed Sylus of all thoughts as he seemed to sleepily replayed what you had just said again in his head. Slowly, happily, he smiled and pulled you into a kiss.
“Say it again,” he murmured against your lips.
“My husband.”
“I love you,” he whispered back, his words making you swelled with joy. He rolled over and had you trapped beneath him. His feverish kisses covered you and you struggled to keep up.
“Sy—Sylus, the sun is up—!”
“I do not care,” he murmured, nibbling your neck, “Do not worry. Just let this happen, my bride.”
You mewled softly, feeling his soft lips all over you, his hands roaming your body brazenly. Helplessly, you gave in to his wicked temptation and to your desires, surrendering yourself completely to him that morning.
By the next moon cycle, many of the new young brides had fallen pregnant—yourself included. The men had already departed for their hunting trip, already prepping for the cold winter months to come. They would not be receiving news about their expecting brides until they returned—hopefully with a bountiful hunt.
You had all conceived around the same time, so everyone’s growths were only slightly different. Even though, you were the last to lay with your husband, everyone noticed how fast you were growing, belly rounding out bigger and faster than the other new brides and mothers.
Oh, worry not, that is normal, one woman said.
The women in Sylus’ family all bear big, strong sons, another explained.
That’s right. You should be proud that you are already this big, you were told.
Child, do not fret, you were made for this, an elder assured you.
At night, you lay in bed, hand smoothing over your growing middle. Though the women in the village had offered you their wisdom and experience, you still felt unsure and worried about your fast growth. Your heart beat softly, your worries mounting. You turned in bed and stared at the empty space next to you, missing and yearning for your husband’s warmth and comfort.
You closed your eyes, hand cradling your belly, and you prayed for Sylus’ safe and quick return.
When the summer heat crept in unexpectantly, the village resounded with joyous cries as the men returned with wild games and fowls. Some were to be feasted on in the coming days while others would be cured for the winter months when food was scarce.
You raced through the village as fast as you could in your current delicate condition, arriving at the square just as you saw the imposing figure of your husband. A large wild boar was slung over Sylus’ strong, broad shoulders as he entered the square, but the moment he saw your approaching figure, seeing your rounded belly, he dropped the wild beast and rushed to you, gathering you into his arms, laughing joyously.
He carefully steadied you on your feet, dropping to his knees as he cautiously felt your belly, surprised when he was already feeling faint movements. He looked up at you adoringly, “You look breathtaking, my beloved.”
You covered your mouth with both of your hands, suppressing the laugh and cry threatening to rise. He looked at you concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.
He smiled. “I’m home.”
“Welcome home,” you said the familiar words you had said so many times in the past, but this was the first time you had uttered them as his wife. You sighed, relieved, repeating, “Welcome home.”
Nightfall arrived once more, and throughout the village, families settled in for the night one after another.
“I’ve missed you,” Sylus murmured as he climbed into bed with you, his lips already finding yours. You hummed softly, feeling your heart beating fast when his large hand rubbed against your belly, feeling the faint movements of the baby inside.
You could hear his soft, disbelieving chuckle as he parted from you. His forehead pressed to yours, his lips still near yours. “This is really happening,” he murmured, overjoyed “How do you feel?”
“Good,” you answered with a smile.
“No sickness? No discomfort?”
You shook your head. “The herbalist had given me some medication to help with the sickness.”
Sylus nodded in understanding. “That’s good then,” he murmured. He kissed your forehead, and he apologized softly. “This won’t be easy on you, so I want to ease your discomfort as much as I am able to.”
“Sylus…”
He leaned down and kissed your belly. “You are giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.” He rubbed your belly fondly, delighting in feeling his child responding to his touch, “Thank you, my beloved.”
The fears and unease you had felt about your changing body disappeared the moment you laid with Sylus. The flames in the lamps had long been extinguished, but you felt like in the dark hut, you could still see him clearly, see the love and desire in his eyes.
He worshiped your body the same way he did on your wedding night, reveling in the beauty and changes happening. The stretch marks that had started to appear around your stomach were caressed and kissed with revere, his voice full of praises and gratitude for the sacrifices you were making to carry his child.
When he gripped your soft, widened hips, you let out a low, deep moan, your body welcoming him in. The night air was cool on the grassland, but within this hut you both called home, there was a heat unlike any other as sweat-slicked bodies moved together with familiar ease. The air was thick and heavy with the sounds of your intense lovemaking, and where your moans ended, his began.
You kissed him, your ardent words coming out in between gasps and moans, “Welcome home…my love…”
He smiled against the sweet kisses, greedily taking them for himself. His forehead rested against yours, his movements reaching you where you needed most, and as you came, trembling so beautifully with pleasure beneath him, he breathed against your neck:
“I’m home.”
The once vibrantly green grass of the plane had begun to yellow, drying out as the weather started changing. The morning air had been chilly, and within Sylus’ warm embrace in the early hours, you both felt reluctant to leave the comfort of your shared bed.
You could hear stirring outside your hut as one by one, many of the villagers were getting up, ready to start the brand-new day. You burrowed into Sylus’ embrace, ignoring him when he laughed.
“Are you not going to get up, my bride?”
You shook your head. “It’s still early…”
You felt his hand brushing aside your hair, hearing a soft agreeable hum from him. You perked up when you heard him speaking again, “I will have to leave soon.”
“No,” you said, grabbing his arm and preventing him from getting up. “Stay with me a few minutes longer…please?”
He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He leaned over and kissed your head, his hand smoothing your hair to the side. “So needy this morning,” he teased, though you didn’t care. You did feel needy, wanting him to stay and coddle you a little longer.
“So what if I am?” you challenged him. You attempted to sit up, but the heavy weight you carried made the once simple task much more difficult. Sylus immediately helped you as you cradled your large belly. You wondered just how big you could get for the remainder of your pregnancy. You already felt impossibly large, almost embarrassed by your size compared to many of the other expectant women in the village. You leaned back against the wall, sighing as you rubbed your belly restlessly.
He smiled sympathetically and kissed you again, his own hand resting over your stomach. “The baby is already so active this early in the morning,” he said, astonished.
“He must take after his father,” you said wearily as you shifted uncomfortably, “He doesn’t let me rest at all at night.”
Sylus smirked; his expression wickedly lewd. “Is that so?” He felt your belly again, feeling nonstop movements from the baby. He glanced at you, seeming intrigued by your earlier comment. “You said ‘he.’ What makes you so sure it’s a boy?”
You shrugged. “The women have told me that I am carrying low, which they said all points to me carrying a boy.”
Sylus looked puzzled by your explanation. “And you believe them?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “But I thought you would be pleased to hear the baby might be a boy?”
“I wouldn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl,” he said firmly. He leaned closer, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of your head, keeping you trapped. He smirked and kissed you. “Besides, I have no intention of just having one child with you.”
You blushed and tried to look away. You gasped when he went in and kissed your cheek, his lips traveling further south as he continued down your neck. “Sy—Sylus…”
“I knew it. You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his hand continued to caress your belly, delighting in feeling his child moving inside you. “Carrying my baby, having my baby…”
“Mmm, Sylus…”
He laughed again when he felt a particularly strong kick. “I see we have a fighter,” Sylus said, smiling, “Maybe he does take after me—or she.”
You looked at him curiously. “‘She’?”
He nodded and laid back down next to you. He kissed your belly, stroking it fondly. You felt a warmth in your chest when he did that, his look of adoration and delight making you smiled fondly.
“I want both sons and daughters,” he said firmly, looking up at you. He stroked your cheek, “I want daughters as pretty as their mother. As sweet as their mother. As loving as their mother.”
You smiled, your cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink. You decided to play along with him, teasingly asking, “Does that mean I want sons as strong as their father? As dependable as their father? As free-spirited as their father?”
“Is that how you see me?”
You nodded. You tilted your head and looked thoughtful. Sylus raised a brow at seeing your sudden quiet disposition.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stroking your cheek again.
“Do...do you…”
“Do I what?”
Your cheeks brightened further.
“Tell me,” He demanded. “What is it?”
“How many children are we going to have?”
Sylus wasn’t expecting that question, so it took him a few seconds to register what you had asked him. He then laughed, making you feel embarrassed. He quickly apologized, kissing you reassuringly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “But I want to have a lot of children with you.”
He sat up, his hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer. “As many as my beloved will allow me to have.”
“Then,” you started hesitantly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest, “If I say…I want to give you as many as you want…”
Sylus looked surprised, and then he smiled again, his lips brushing against yours. “Then, I feel like the most blessed man in the world.”
He pulled you into his embrace, showering you with sweet words and kisses.
Outside the hut, life had already begun again as people went about their day and chores. You both could hear the laughter of children running outside, mothers scolding their little ones, and men already laboring away to provide for their family.
For this particular morning, you and Sylus both decided to idle, to lounge around and enjoy the comfort of each other. As you lay in his arms again, Sylus lulled you back to sleep with stories of the future. You drifted to sleep, his deep voice describing a memory yet to come: beneath the azure summer sky and across the luscious green grassland, your children raced barefooted, their sweet bell-like laughter carried away by the playful wind.
“I feel like I am being kicked in all directions at once,” you sighed one cold evening, your hands rubbing restlessly all over your stomach. “Surely, this is not normal.”
Sylus wrapped his arms around you from behind. He looked down at you, your pout nearly making him laugh out of complete adoration for you. He couldn’t help but found you endearing whenever you looked frustrated and upset.
“You must be close to giving birth now, right?”
You nodded as you grabbed Sylus’ hand, guiding him to where you felt the most movements in your womb. You smiled when you looked up, seeing his surprised expression when he felt the baby’s strong kick. You answered his inquiry, “The midwife said it wouldn’t be long before the baby drops.”
As soon as you finished saying that, your expression faltered. Sylus noticed the change and he questioned you gently. You tried to brush it aside, but Sylus persisted, demanding to know what was upsetting you so suddenly.
You reluctantly relented. “Sylus,” you started, your voice growing smaller as you prepared for your confession, “I’m…scared.”
His expression softened. He turned you around to face him, but you kept your sight downcast. You could feel Sylus rubbing your cheek in comfort.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Speak to me.”
“What if…something goes…wrong.”
Sylus was immediately silent. You slowly looked up. His lips were a tight line, his eyes hardening. You could see him inhaling sharply as he seemed to try to keep his emotions under check for your sake. You then felt him guiding you to your bed.
You both sat down and Sylus was holding your hand tightly in his. At first, he didn’t say anything, almost as if he was trying to gather his thoughts and choose his words carefully. After a few beats, he began to speak:
“I do not wish to lie to you,” he said, mindful of his words, “But…I also do not like thinking of the possibility. All I can do is believe that everything will be fine.”
You looked unassured; your expression still anxious.
He pulled you into his arms. “I refuse to think otherwise,” he continued, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly, “You are strong and capable. Our baby is healthy and active. I have no reason to think differently.”
“Sylus…”
He leaned down and kissed your forehead. He looked apologetic as he spoke, “I wish I could take away your worries.”
You rested your cheek against his chest, eyes closed. You could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. This was…calming, you realized. His presence alone was comforting you, easing your fears. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, hesitant.
“Will you…stay with me? When I give birth?”
He looked at you confused.
“Please…”
He gave you a small smile, his hands cupping your face as his thumbs massaged little circles on your cheeks. “You know men are not allowed in the room.”
“Since when do you follow rules?”
At this, he laughed, conceding immediately. “You’re right,” he said, nuzzling his face against yours, “I will gladly stay with you, my beloved. I don’t want you to ever feel like you are alone, especially during this time.”
You smiled against him, feeling as if the worries you had been shouldering silently was easing. You still felt scared, felt so unsure of yourself, but you knew with Sylus by your side, you could find the confidence to believe that everything would work out in the end.
“Oh!”
“What’s wrong?” Sylus looked down at you, his face hardening.
You laughed as you peered down and felt your belly. You gasped again, laughing louder, “He is really not making it easy on me!”
Sylus relaxed, smiling with you.
“Or she,” Sylus reminded you, his own hand covering your stomach. He stroked it lovingly as he continued to speak, “She could be upset that her mother is scared and anxious.”
Sylus nuzzled his face against yours again, kissing your cheek. “But I hope her mother will feel better knowing I am here.”
You smiled, touched by his attempts at comforting you. “I am,” you answered. You then poked his cheek playfully, your expression puzzled. “But why are you so insistent that the baby is a girl? I thought you said it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sylus reaffirmed, grinning, “But we don’t know for sure yet if it is a boy or a girl. I don’t see why we can’t entertain the idea that we could be having a daughter.”
You laughed softly. You wrapped your arms around your large belly. “You say it doesn’t matter, but why do I get the feeling that you are really hoping for a girl?”
He smirked. “Am I?”
He pulled you down into bed, helping you lay on your side, your back resting against his chest. Sylus rubbed your stomach soothingly, his warmth encompassing you. You closed your eyes peacefully as you listened to his calming voice:
“We could have a pretty little daughter,” he began, his smile infectious. “Perhaps she will be as feisty and sweet like her mother. She would be the brightest jewel in the grassland, our precious little treasure.”
“We would have to find a good husband for her,” you quipped teasingly. You opened your eyes and looked up just in time to catch Sylus’ look of utter disdain. You giggled and poked at his cheek again, making him frowned even more. “What is with that look?”
“The very idea displeases me.”
“What about it displeases you?”
“Just…everything.”
You tsked at him. “Be honest,” you said, amused, “what do you not like about this?”
Sylus groaned and looked down at you with a light glare. “You are really going to make me say it?”
You nodded with a grin.
“No boy will be good enough for her.”
You laughed.
“You’re laughing at me,” Sylus said, offended. He had genuinely thought you would be on his side on this matter. “You are actually laughing at me. How impudent.”
You rolled your eyes at him, saying, “I am sure we can find her a perfect match. After all, we were matched perfectly by our parents, right?”
Sylus looked at you defeated. “You are being very unfair.”
“I am being as fair as I can be when we are discussing about our baby, who we still don’t know for sure if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Sylus sighed. “Very well,” he conceded, still unhappy, “You really ruined my good mood.”
You looked at him with mock-pity. “And your baby keeps me up at night. And it’s your fault I can’t see my feet any more—and they are swollen because of you, too. And also—”
“Alright, alright,” he relented, amused, “I know when to call it quits.”
He pulled you back against him, his hand resting over your stomach. He murmured into your ear, “Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. The baby is already the greatest gift you can give me, so thank you, my beloved.”
You closed your eyes and smiled, letting his gentle ministrations eased you to sleep as you felt the baby you carried calming down, seemingly also lulled by their father’s presence and voice.
One by one, many of the young mothers went into labor with their child. Day after day, week after week, the painful wails and desperate cries of laboring mothers were heard throughout the village as a child was brought forth into the world.
You were the last, and everyone waited with bated breath for your child’s birth. You were already the biggest, and with each new day, you continued to grow uncomfortably bigger. The cold winter month was also settling in, stripping the grassland of its once vibrant colors and life.
On this particular evening, the first snowfall had arrived, already blanketing the grassland in a layer of snow. You had heard the laughter from children as they played, attempting to catch the falling snowflakes on their tongues. You looked down at your belly, rubbing it as you wondered what your child’s first reaction to snow would be like.
“Please come out,” you pleaded to your stubborn baby, “Don’t you want to see the snowfall, too?”
You felt a strong kick, almost as if the baby was responding negatively to your plea and question. You sighed, and huffed resignedly, “Already stubborn like your father…”
“What about me?” Sylus entered the hut just as you finished speaking.
“Nothing,” you lied, giving him a poorly-disguised smile. He knew you were fibbing, but decided it was perhaps in his best interest to not antagonize you during this time. He knew the last couple weeks had been rough on your body and with so many women having already given birth to their babies, he knew your anxiety was also increasing as your own child seemed adamant about prolonging your discomfort.
“Do you want to eat something?” Sylus offered, but you shook your head.
“I think I want to walk.”
“It’s snowing outside,” he answered.
“I know,” you responded, “Maybe I can just walk around the hut. It will help with the pressure around my hips.”
Sylus nodded.
You paced your hut restlessly, one hand on your lower back as the other cradled your large belly. You breathed in and out slowly, wincing in discomfort. Sylus walked up behind you, his hands settling on your hips as he rubbed soothing circles.
“Do you think it’s almost time?” he questioned, worried.
You were about to shake your head, but you winced again in discomfort. “I don’t know,” you admitted, as your hands rested over his appreciatively, silently urging him to press in harder. He complied.
“The last three days have been false pains,” you said, frustrated, “Does the baby not want to be born?”
He chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle his face against your cheek. “The baby probably feels safe inside you, so it doesn’t want to be born yet.”
“I would feel touched by such lies,” you started, turning to peck his cheek to his amusement and delight, “but, Sylus, I am too uncomfortable to put up with your thinly-veiled flatteries.”
“When have I ever flattered you?” he remarked with a teasing grin, walking around to face you. He rubbed your overdue belly with a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t help but found your frustration endearing, though he knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud during this time. Instead, he guided you to bed.
You sat down in between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hands rubbing soothing circles around your gravid middle as he leaned down and nibbled on your neck, whispering huskily, “I know this has been tough on you, my beloved, but I have adored seeing the changes that you have been through to carry our child.”
His brazen touches felt so possessive, as if it made him proud to know that the many changes that had happened to your body was his complete doing. You whimpered and sighed as he continued, seemingly growing bolder with his intents. The featherlight kisses he peppered along your neck felt like such a stark contrast to the lustful words he whispered to your ears.
“So beautiful, so fertile,” he said, his voice so honeyed and sultry, you felt like you were pulsing inside. You could barely keep your breathing steady or your voice quiet. Sylus gazed at you intensely, his scarlet eyes seemed to shimmered with satisfaction. He appeared almost pleased by your flushed doe-eyed look. He continued in the same hushed, sensuous voice, his hands practically groping you all over, “And so voluptuous. You have filled out beautifully, my beloved.”
“Sylus…” Your voice sounded breathless as you reached down to grab at his mischievous hands. You felt a building warmth in your body, his devilish voice and tantalizing words igniting a fire inside. With his teasing ministrations on your sensitive body, you began to crave for more from him. You squeezed his hands.
“What is it?” His breathing stopped for a moment, seeing the aroused look in your eyes.
He smirked.
Sylus leaned in and kissed you, his touches shameless and greedy.
He helped you lay down and as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands were already working on undressing you. You tugged at his own clothes, and he chuckled in amusement at your impatience. He began undressing himself as well, letting all of the clothes fall to the ground. He lay down behind you, his lips trailing along your shoulder as his hand rubbed your much overdue belly. You whined as you felt him rutting against you from behind, his hard member pressing against your slick entrance.
“P-please…please, Sylus…”
You felt your insides throbbing, desperate to be filled by him. You gasped into a pillow as he answered your plea, his massive manhood slowly easing in, drawing out your heavy moans. You felt his hand pressing into your hip, gripping you tightly as he buried himself in you.
You were practically crying with relief, just feeling him sheathed inside you was easing the discomfort you had been feeling these past few weeks. You rocked back against him, a silent invitation. Sylus smirked.
He began moving, but compared to your previous lovemaking with your husband, this time Sylus was careful, his movements slow but precise, still able to draw out your pleased moans. He gauged your reactions, his own pleasure secondary as he was more concerned about your comfort.
“Sy—Sylus…m-more…”
“Are you sure?” His words came out in soft pants. Seeing you so heavy, so close to going into labor with his baby, was arousing him in a way he never knew it could. He wanted nothing more right now than to fuck you like a wild beast, to make you writhe and scream with pleasure. He was only holding himself back for your sake.
When you nodded, unaware of his inner desires, that was enough to break his restraint. You gasped as you felt his thrusts getting harder, feeling it reaching you deeper and deeper. Your fingers curled around a blanket, gripping it tightly as your face was buried against a pillow as you felt him driving into you with more force than before.
You groaned and moaned into the bed, your grip around the blanket vicelike as you felt his length piercing you with precision over and over and over again. You called out his name, your pitch higher than normal. Sylus groaned deeply at the heavenly sound, his arousal clouding his mind with only thoughts of claiming you again and again until you went into labor.
Sylus’ pants grew heavier, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you. In his eyes, you looked absolutely perfect like this. On your side, heavily pregnant with his baby, your leg held up by him as he fucked shamelessly into you. Your cries and moans were the sweetest noises he had ever heard.
Sylus reached around you with his other hand, groping your heavy, tender breast, kneading and teasing until your milk leaked and dribbled openly down your chest. At this point, you were too far gone, completely lost in this thick haze of pleasure to even feel any embarrassment or worried about your modesty. Whatever he was doing, you wanted even more from him.
“Don’t stop…don’t stop…ahh…please, Sylus, more, more, more…!” you whined over and over, his name spilling shamelessly from your lips. You could feel your pleasure was cresting, reaching new heights. “…Sylus…Sylus!”
“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt you cumming around his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, one hand squeezing your breast as his other gripped your hip so hard, you would surely bruise by morning. Without a word, he spilled into you, hot and heavy.
Your eyes squeezed shut, lost in this state of euphoria. You moaned, feeling so full. He was cumming into you so much, you felt his release dripping out of you.
You gasped, feeling a twinge in your belly.
“Oh, gods, ah…ah…ah” you panted as you reached for his hand over your breast. You whimpered as you felt an unfamiliar tightening around your stomach, the pain intermingling with the residual pleasure you were feeling. “Sy—Sylus…”
You called for his name weakly, and Sylus was immediately alerted. He looked down at you in concern, feeling your nails scraping against his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the whimpers from escaping your lips. The cramps were worsening and you just wanted to curl up. “Ah…Sylus…my belly hurts…”
At those words, Sylus pulled out of you slowly and more of his release spilled out obscenely. His breath hitched the moment he realized his seed wasn’t the only thing dripping out of you and down your thighs. There was a growing wetness on the bed beneath where you lay.
Your water had broken.
You gasped and clutched your belly, feeling the first pangs of labor as well as the baby descending lower in your womb. There was so much pressure in your hips, you began to panic. Seeing your distress, Sylus immediately dressed and rose to his feet, rushing outside the hut, his deep voice bellowed across the quiet village, “Call for the midwives! It’s time!”
Night descended over this small village once more, and the first snow of winter continued to gently fall, the ground already accumulating several inches from the past hours. The village was quiet, giving the illusion of tranquility, but within one lone hut, the atmosphere was tensed as you labored while several midwives tended to you.
“It won’t be long, child,” a midwife commented, checking the progress of your dilation. Another wiped at your sweat-soaked face with a cooling cloth, giving you a look of sympathy.
You whimpered and gritted your teeth as you breathed through the next pains.
“Easy, easy now,” you heard Sylus’ voice behind you. Cradled in between his long legs, you leaned back against his chiseled chest, panting heavily. You were grateful that he had insisted on staying with you in spite of the midwives’ initial opposition. With only one sharp glare from Sylus, he had everyone yielding to him, none daring to oppose the fearful warrior.
You felt Sylus caressing your small fingers in his hand, this simple act already keeping you grounded and calm. You whimpered quietly, “It hurts so much…”
He looked down at you helplessly. “I know, my beloved, but you’re doing so well. Stay strong.”
You moaned softly as you felt Sylus large hand massaging your hips, easing some of the pain, if only a little. As the minutes ticked by, you felt the pains getting closer and closer until you finally heard the words you were desperately waiting for:
“She is ready to deliver.”
You leaned further back against Sylus as he helped you get into position to start pushing. With your legs spread and propped up, you began pushing at the midwife’s urging. Your eyes widened as you felt the baby shifting inside, dropping lower.
“It…it feels so…big,” you gasped.
Before one of the younger midwives could make a quick remark regarding the genetics in Sylus’ family, he silenced her with a cold glare, making her cowered back. He looked down at you warmly, your hand in his. “That’s it, keep going…”
You pushed for several seconds longer, but honestly to you, it felt like an eternity. You could have sworn the pressure was intensifying, feeling the weight so heavy in your pelvis. Quick, short grunts left your lips as you bore down again. Once the pains ebbed, you collapsed back against Sylus, crying in frustration, “Nothing is happening!”
Sylus shushed you gently as the midwife reassured you that you were progressing well. You found it hard to believe. You panted softly, already feeling your energy drained. Sweat glistened down the sides of your face as you shut your eyes again, body tensing as the next pains arrived. You instinctively started pushing once more, feeling more progress being made this time. All around you, you heard hushed gasps and whispers, but you couldn’t comprehend anything said as you concentrated on birthing your baby.
Without a word, Sylus guided your hand lower and you felt between your legs. You opened your eyes in shock. “So much hair!” you exclaimed, laughing in spite of the agonizing pain you were feeling. Your fingers felt the little tufts of hair again. You couldn’t believe it. This was your baby’s. Your baby was right there.
For this brief instance, you felt your energy renewed as you gave your everything and bore down again, your laboring grunts heard throughout the room. As you pushed, your hand found Sylus’ again and you squeezed it tightly, his presence giving you the strength to persevere through this arduous ordeal.
“Just a little more,” he said, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. “You are doing so well.”
Your efforts yielded slow result, feeling the baby emerging little by little. When the contractions subsided, you leaned back against Sylus for a brief reprieve, but instead of resting, you whined in frustration when you felt the baby receding a little and negating all of your progress just now.
Sylus whispered praises and encouragement soothingly to you as the midwives also assured you everything would be fine. You barely registered any of the voices, your body demanding your full attention again as you felt the next urge to push.
“Oh, gods…”
You panted softly, your eyes clenched shut as you put all of your focus into pushing out your baby again. You unconsciously squeezed Sylus’ hand, and then you let out a tired cry when you felt the baby’s head emerging fully. You trembled and sobbed, feeling a strange mixture of pain and relief in that moment. You could hear voices all around you encouraging you on, but the words meant nothing to you as you could only focus on the excruciating pain you were enduring.
“Here comes the shoulders, push, child, push!” the midwife’s voice rang loud in the room. You reflexively shook your head, begging silently to any merciful goddess who would take pity on you and end this suffering now.
“Please…I can’t…!” Your grip on Sylus’ hand tightened, your nails digging into his flesh. If he had felt any pain, he did not voice or show it. Instead, you felt his warm breath close to your ear, his soothing voice low and only audible to you.
“I know it hurts, my beloved, but you can’t stop now.” Sylus’ voice pulled you back, and you leaned against him crying softly. He rubbed you up and down, whispering more words of comfort and encouragement. “You’re so close, so close, a little more, my beloved, just a little more…our child is almost here…”
Your breathing was ragged, but you tried to gather what little strength you had left. In spite of your exhaustion, your body was already acting on instinct, already pushing again and you groaned lowly, feeling like you were being spread more and more, feeling each shoulder painfully coming out one at a time.
“Hah…hah…Sylus…ahh…”
“I’m here, I’m here, I won’t leave you,” he whispered, his eyes darting rapidly from your face to his baby slowly emerging from you. He seemed to have stopped breathing as he watched, awestruck, as the baby was born.
You collapsed back against him, sobbing in relief.
Not too long afterwards, the room resounded with the loud cry of a newborn.
“It’s a boy,” the midwife declared after cutting the cord that connected you and your son. The baby was immediately cleaned and prepared to be swaddled.
Sylus stilled at the announcement, the reality of the situation slowly settling in. His face broke out into a wide smile as he looked down at you. “A son, we have a son—”
The joy in the room was short-lived. Sylus was the first to notice you straining again, hearing your soft grunts and whines and seeing the pained look still on your face.
He was immediately tensed. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
You gritted your teeth and then let out another strangled cry. “It still hurts!” You turned, burying your face against his chest again, sobbing. You couldn’t even rest for a moment as you felt the now all too familiar urge to push. You gasped and panted against Sylus’ chest. It couldn’t be…this couldn’t be happening…you had just given birth already…this couldn’t be happening—
“Another child!” One of the younger midwives cried out, alerting everyone else in the hut. There were shocked gasps and mutters as many crowded around while others continued to focus on your first baby who continued to cry.
“Twins,” another muttered, shocked, “She was carrying twins.”
The eldest and most experienced of the group quickly accessed the situation, already barking out orders, “Don’t just stand there! Hurry! Prepare for the second child!”
You did not know whether it was because of the first baby or not, but your second child was coming much quicker. You had no time to rest as your body was already straining again, already feeling that painful ring of fire as your next child started to emerge. Using the last of your strength, you leaned forward, chin to your chest and you bore down, your voice strained as you struggled. You rested for a few seconds and you continued again, and within just another three hard pushes, you delivered your second child, its cry almost immediately joining its older twin.
You fell back against Sylus once more, completely spent both physically but also emotionally. Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against yours, his praises plentiful.
“Twins?” he questioned, amazed. He kissed your cheek. “Rest, my beloved, rest, I love you.”
Not too long afterwards, the afterbirths were expelled from your body. You were immediately tended to, cleaned and cared for and showered in endless praises for your remarkable feat. You smiled wearily, barely conscious and barely registering any of the competing voices in the room. You had never felt an exhaustion such as this one.
Perhaps it was because of the long, strenuous hours of labor, but it felt like you were drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to decipher what was a dream and what was reality. You were drained entirely, but you knew you could not sleep just yet. You didn’t want to go to sleep right now. You wanted to see your babies. Babies.
You opened your eyes wearily, sensing an approaching figure. You looked up, confused, when the midwife handed you the two swaddled babies. You nervously took them both into your arms, staring down in amazement at the two small red-faced newborns fussing and cooing quietly.
You let out a choked gasp, your tears barely held back as you smiled down at your children. Your children. How surreal, how sweet, those words sounded to you.
“Identical sons,” the matronly midwife said, praising you warmly, “You did well, child.”
She helped you adjust to holding your babies, patiently explaining to you everything you needed to know. When one of your sons started crying again, she helped guide both babies to your nipples, and you gasped softly at feeling both of your sons latching on and suckling hungrily for their first meal. You could feel your milk flowing, entering hungry little mouths. You half-laughed and half-sobbed, unable to even comprehend fully the current surreal situation.
You felt so overwhelmed. You had given birth to not one, but two babies, and they were identical boys. You were now a mother to identical twin boys. You just could not seem to register that thought no matter how many times you repeated it in your head. You looked up at Sylus, and he smiled back just as helplessly, also unable to wrap his head around the current situation.
“Thank you,” he murmured instead, kissing your lips. He smiled tenderly as you gazed at him wonderstruck. “My beloved bride, you have given me not one but two sons.” He kissed you more deeply, drawing out your soft moans. He kept you in his warm, protective embrace for just a few minutes longer as the midwives cleaned the room and prepared for their leave.
He peered down at you and his children, his smile unwavering. For Sylus, there was no greater treasure in the world than the three treasures he now held in his arms. For you and for his children, Sylus was willing to face Heaven and Hell’s wrath, to do everything in his power to keep his beloved family safe and protected.
As he watched you nursed his children, his hand reached up, his finger gingerly stroking one of the twins’ cheek. The baby’s skin felt so soft and smooth and delicate. He was enthralled that these two beautiful little babies came from you, that you had went through such an arduous trial to bring his children into the world, and now you cradled them protectively against your breasts, letting them suckled the precious milk your body was providing for the newborns.
He had never seen such beauty and strength as this, and so it seemed the only thing he could do was willingly let himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you, his beloved.
In the center of the hut, there was a firepit. Flames danced within the space, warming the quaint home.
It had been a few hours since you had given birth, and after making sure both you and the babies were taken care of, everyone had left, including Sylus, leaving you alone with just your sons.
It was still so dark outside. Dawn would not break for a few more hours, so you wondered absently where your husband could have gone this late in the night. You did not idle on those thoughts for too long, your attention focused entirely on the babies you had just birthed hours ago.
You sat up in bed, gazing in wonder at the two sleeping babies sharing the wicker bassinet, still in awe that these two little ones came from your body, conceived from the love between you and Sylus. You smiled as you watched your babies sleep, unable to ignore that they were indeed bigger than most babies born in the village, but not so drastically as many had you fearing for months. You chuckled to yourself, unable to fully fathom how these two babies were inside you just this morning, and now they were asleep right next to you.
One of the twins started hiccupping, breaking you out of your spell. Instinctively, you took him into your arms, carefully holding him over your shoulder. You gently patted his small back, softly comforting your son with soothing words.
“Motherhood looks lovely on you.”
You looked up when you heard Sylus’ voice as he entered the hut covered in a light dusting of freshly-fallen snow. You noticed he was carrying a basket of food in one hand and an extra bassinet in the other. There was also a fur blanket strewn over his shoulder. You raised a brow in confusion, and he chuckled in response.
“Everyone’s been so kind,” he explained as he set everything where they needed to be. He adjusted the second bassinet next to the first one before turning to face you. You handed him the baby in your arms, watching as he carefully placed the infant in his own bassinet.
Almost immediately, both babies started fussing and crying softly. You laughed quietly as you leaned in closer to Sylus, your arms wrapped around his. “They have never slept away from one another before,” you remarked, finding the situation heartwarming.
Sylus nodded, smiling softly. He helped you back into bed to rest before he knelt down on the ground between the two bassinets. He lightly rocked both bassinets at the same time, pleased when his sons calmed down, the gentle motion lulling them back to sleep.
As you lay on your side, watching this sweet scene, you felt so much love and joy in your heart. You yawned softly, and at Sylus’ gentle urging, you allowed yourself to succumb to sleep as well.
When you opened your eyes again a few hours later, you saw the two newborns tucked in Sylus’ arms as he cradled and rocked them while pacing around the hut. His deep, gentle humming was joined only by the warm crackling fire in the hut and the soft whistling winter wind outside.
You felt at peace, as if the world had quieted down. This moment in time felt so surreal, like a sweet dream you never wished to wake up from.
“I love you,” you found yourself saying sleepily, alerting Sylus.
He smiled back and walked over, settling down in bed next to you. You sat up, taking one of the babies from Sylus. You leaned closer to him, gentle eyes flitting back and forth between the two identical babies you both held with so much love and adoration.
Warmer than the fire, you heard Sylus’ gentle murmur, “I love you, too, my beloved.”
The years had rolled by on the grassland, life remaining, more or less, unchanged. This era of prosperity continued with the village now under Sylus’ leadership. You had seen six springs passed since your marriage to Sylus, and from this union, you two were blessed again and again and again.
The warriors are home! came the familiar words from the village and carried all the way down to the field where the sheep grazed.
“Mother, Mother, Father is home! Father is home!” your children ran by you barefooted, many already leaving you behind to rush to the village entrance.
Your twins helped you to your feet, and your hand settled on the large, round bump you carried once more. Another child was on the way. Your seventh.
Swaddled and resting on your back was your sixth, barely ten months old. He cooed happily, seemingly sensing his older siblings’ excitement. You smiled, always delighting in hearing your children’s sweet laughter.
You carefully made your way back to the village, listening fondly as your twins chatted and laughed. They were the spitting image of their father from head to toes, and while they inherited little of your physical appearance, they gained many of your mannerisms and quirks instead.
When you and the twins finally arrived at the village square, a crowd had already formed. After months apart, families were reunited again. This familiar scene had played out so many times before in the past, and yet you never tired of it. As always, there would be a celebration, for the glory and victories these brave men have brought home, but more importantly, to celebrate families reuniting once more.
As you and the twins treaded through the dense crowd, you saw your beloved husband towering in the center. Sylus already had his youngest daughter—barely three—sitting on his shoulders, her little legs swung over his shoulders and her small hands tugging at his hair happily. Your other daughter and son danced circles around their father asking for their turn to be held by him. You laughed softly as you witnessed Sylus’ overjoyed but helpless expression as he tried to accommodate his children.
At the sound of your familiar laughter, Sylus looked up. Seeing your approaching figure, his crimson eyes lit up with joy. He carefully set his daughter down to join her siblings. The twins immediately left your side and ran to their father cheering and already showering him with questions and praises. He greeted his sons affectionately, kneeling down to embrace all of his children and accept their kisses.
Your youngest son was now held in your arms, balanced on your hip as you stood in your place. You gazed at Sylus with the same love and joy as the spring when you had married him. Sylus slowly stood up, sighing blissfully as he took in the sight of you round and heavy again with his child.
“I’m home,” he said the familiar words warmly, and your heart swelled with happiness and love.
“Welcome home,” you responded fondly, smiling as he crossed the distance with just a few short strides. He gathered you into his arms, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and scent only he possessed. You sighed happily against him, only broken out of your daze when you heard your youngest son giggling. He squirmed against you as he held his little arms out for his father. You smiled as Sylus took the baby boy from you, easily holding him in one arm.
Beneath the azure sky, in his loving embrace, you remembered a story Sylus had once told, a memory that was yet to come. The sweet bell-like laughter of your children was carried on the playful wind across the luscious grassland. Surely this moment must be it, you thought, unable to fathom a greater happiness than this.
Sylus knelt down before you, his lips touching your growing belly fondly, his touch gentle and loving.
“My beloved.”
You looked down lovingly at your husband, your heart beating quietly for him as he gently guided your youngest son’s hand to your round belly. He spoke softly to the baby boy, his voice sweet and tender. Sylus looked up, the depths of his love for you reflected in his crimson eyes.
In this moment, you also recalled the elders had long ago told tales of a paradise after life, but you wondered how there could be a greater heaven than the one on the grassland with your lover—your destined half.
the first time he met you, your evols resonated so well with each other — it leveled an entire building to the ground and three others. the clean up was a mess but at that time his lips quirked up in a slanted smile. “I guess you’re mine now.”
———————————————————————
you do not agree with his territorial claims. in fact, if anything, a part of you is busy rolling your eyes at the audacity of men to not give you a say. but it was nice, to unleash that much power, and to know you hold it. that here is someone able to make you feel good about your abilities and someone who gives a clear guide as to where you stand in their life: an asset, valuable. secretly, you’ve always loved the rush of feeling powerful and here is a man who hands it to you.
a part of your mind labels him as worth sticking around for.
———————————————————————
you strike an unlikely friendship with him. he tells you about his search for his reincarnated soulmate. you listen even if it sounds like a fantasy to you — to be around someone who is pretty much proof that reincarnation and past lives exist is difficult to grasp but you also have an open mind — and it’s nice, you think, to watch him reminisce even if you can read the melancholy in his eyes. you don’t push him for answers, content with what he’s willing to share and recognize it when he wants to pull back. it’s nice to know he has a weakness; it’s nice to know he’s the type of person to relentlessly go after what he wants.
it’s another mark on your book to keep sticking around him. you like people that inspire you to do more in your life. you hope he meets her soon.
when he asks you jokingly if you’ve met your soulmate, you tell him blankly you have no idea. shouldn’t it be evident enough from the way you stick around him instead?
it’s the first time you hear him laugh.
———————————————————————
so you help out when he tells you he has an inkling he’s found her. a hunter with a protocore for a heart based in linkon.
you object at his stupid and idiotic behavior of stalking her. this is why he’s single all these years, you think. no tact whatsoever and is the poster child for terrifying your crush instead of being normal around them. you tell him as much. he looks so offended you can’t help but laugh and feel bad enough you give him pointers instead.
like, let you do the scouting and snooping to get to know her. secretly you also want to know who she is — you’re a bit nosy like that when it comes to the lives of the people around you. you want to know if she’s worth his attention and weigh the change in dynamic between you and him if she’s in the picture.
did he let you? yes. you get to know her absolutely terrible skills at kitty cards and her refusal to admit defeat. it’s fine, you get it, pride is all one tend to have and you also are a sore loser sometimes; you just mask it well. weekly, you’ll meet up to play them in the card cafe if both of your schedules align.
did he ignore your advice? yes. because men, you learn, sometimes love loopholes. so off he goes making the mechanical crow he names mephisto to which you point out what a terrible name it was: it’s too clunky, you say to justify yourself.
he stares at you unimpressed. “it means not lovi—“
“—ng light,” you continue, “i know. had to google it and everything.”
“so?” as if it proves his point of being a skilled namer of things.
you shrug, “sounds like you’re trying too hard.” you refrain from saying it doesn’t sound like him at all even if the meaning does sound like him.
“you’re such a hater,” he grouses.
“i’m not,” you insist, extending a finger to… mephie. that’s cuter in your head. “you’re hurting his feelings for naming him something awful.”
“he’s a robot.”
“a robot doesn’t need a custom stand perch in every room in this house.” mephie shuffles towards you and nudges your hand with his head. “don’t listen to him sweetheart. you’re the sweetest,” you coo to the crow. you’ve always liked animals most would associate with omens: crows, snakes, black cats.
you give him the stink eye when he sends mephie to stalk his beloved. an absolute spoilsport.
———————————————————————
when she stayed at the manor and your lives collide, you keep out of their way and stay in your assigned wing in the base. both of you have agreed you’ll tell her about you knowing him at a different time — maybe an orchestrated visit by him to your weekly kitty card cafe game and then she’ll ask of how you are acquainted. luke and kieran have been giggling nonstop and you send them your thoughts and prayers for their next prank. it’s a reunion you don’t wish to intrude upon and you’ve told him off when you hear how he treated her at first sight. you hope he’s making it up to her as mephie nudged your fingers for more pets.
a robot, my ass, you think. the clinginess is worth studying even as you indulge its every whim. animals have never harmed you; it’s why you find it easy for them to love. once, a palm reader in linkon stationed at the card cafe stop you and tell you you’ve saved animals in your past life. you take it in stride, knowing what you know about reincarnation from sylus. you are impressed and starting to consider maybe there’s really truth in past lives as the first dream you had growing up was a field you get to roam in. it was also where you administer first aid to beasts and gazelles injured in the wild, like a field doctor, no matter how improbable that is logistically.
you await the gossip session come sunrise, or the weekend or whenever their honeymoon ends.
———————————————————————
“she doesn’t remember.”
he tells you this in his office without prompt. miss hunter has left the premises two days prior and you were happy to not pry. if he wanted to tell you, he would.
you recalibrate your response. sorry is too trite and you personally don’t get heartaches and the melodrama of a heartbreak. to act otherwise would be insulting and not maintain your integrity and yet even you know it’s callous.
sylus sends a wry smile your way, “no tears for me?”
“you don’t need it,” you say, then, choose your words carefully because you do consider him as a friend. “all i know about love is people leave even when you don’t want them to. so i find it hard to imagine being sad that they don’t stay.”
he frowns. “you don’t believe that.” a statement. he knows you a bit too well for your liking sometimes.
“no,” you agree, “it’s what i learned.”
a silence passes between you, too heavy for your liking, so you wave it away, “what i’m trying to say is i can’t promise she’ll remember one day or that she’ll be who she is in your memory, but anyone worthwhile would appreciate the effort you’ve put into finding her.”
“so long as you don’t terrorize her,” you add as levity.
he snorts. “i’ll try not to.”
“i’m serious,” you start. “you can be…”
he raises an eyebrow.
charming, sincere, lovable
“…passable: not terrible to be around.”
“passable,” he repeats.
“i mean i haven’t killed you,” you say. “yet.”
“a stellar review.”
you roll your eyes. “it is. you should be grateful about that.”
he huffs a laugh.
“i’m also giving you full permission to mope for five business days.”
“only five?”
“you won’t stop moping after five days. i’m just giving you a heads up as to when i will stop pretending not seeing you cry and be obnoxious about it.”
“duly noted. shall we sign an agreement for that as well?”
“i don’t know. is your memory deteriorating that quick?”
“are you calling me old?”
“you did. i never said that,” you stand up and head towards the door, considering your job done when you spot the amusement in his eyes. “now i’m going to go see what luke and kieran want for lunch. you want anything?”
“the usual’s fine.”
you give him a thumbs up in acknowledgement, leaving him to brood.
———————————————————————
life goes on. you let him wallow by distracting him with offers to spar so you can brush up on your self defense skills. unlike miss hunter, you have abysmal fighting skills. a sword feels too heavy on you, a gun feels too detached, and you never like the idea of hurting anything. you’re interested in self defense even before meeting sylus so that’s the one concession you are willing to learn in an effort to arm yourself. it’s why sylus never sends you out for missions often, which suits you just fine. you like your limbs in tact, thanks. you’re content to being brought out only when he needs backup to resonate with you or information you can gather posing as a civilian.
in return you learn how to heal, how to suture, keep compression on wounds. in a twisted way, you fulfill your mother’s lifelong dream of seeing you be a doctor, though it’s not like she knows what you really do far away from home.
not that sylus gets injured often, you’ve seen his skin knit itself back together. you’re not too worried though it does make you wonder if your treatment is even needed and why sylus would indulge you. he indulges luke and kieran’s pranks so if you’re bad at your medical skills, it’s probably his version of indulging you. nothing to get so worked up about, you decide. sometimes you think despite a tough life that turns many to cruelty, he’s still kind. maybe that’s just how some people are: inherently good with compulsions to do good. you wish you had that kind of integrity. maybe you’ll be more successful then. fulfill your potential the way people expected you to instead of playing house even if you’re content with where you are.
———————————————————————
on a fine day, miss hunter takes you out for shopping. gifts! she cheerfully announces as christmas looms around the corner. you follow her around the mall after your weekly kitty card game. it’s been three weeks since the last one; she was stationed for a mission out of town and you’re glad she’s returned back just fine.
you see her picking up gifts for her coworkers, the childhood friend turned doctor, an artist she complains about often, even sylus is on the list along with luke and kieran. what a full life, you think, to shop for so many people.
the crow household — as you like to name it in your head — occasionally does celebrate in their own way, but crime doesn’t wait for anybody and since you’ve been with them, there was only one instance where the four of you shared dinner together on christmas night. gifts are not a tradition solely on christmas in the household so there was never any import on holiday shopping sprees. maybe things will change with miss hunter after all.
she tugs you to a craft store and a red pattern catches your eye, calling out to you.
“it looks like the flower you like to doodle,” miss hunter says from behind you.
you hum, filing the fact she’s observant enough and has good enough memory to remember the one time you doodle on a notebook waiting for her even when you quickly snap it shut once she makes herself known. truthfully, you doodle the flowers without thought — the same way someone would doodle clouds or spirals or hearts absentmindedly. you didn’t think the flower you doodle about would be based on a real one. you figure it was just your brain’s way being creative to draw the kind of basic flower outline everyone learns to draw as kids and you trying to change the petals to something much sharper like shards. maybe you’ll look up what flower it is later at home.
you grab the wrapping paper as an impulse buy.
———————————————————————
in the end you give a diffuser set to miss hunter at the end of your shopping trip. you get sylus a pair of onyx cufflinks and matching hoodies monogramed with their names for kieran and luke to replace the ones that got busted during their latest mission.
you place the gifts in their respective rooms when they’re out of the mansion and go to bed.
when you wake up and head to the breakfast bar, the twins are lounging and lazing about with unrestrained glee in their countenance. it’s nice to see them not wearing the masks; kieran’s scar treatment is going well. you elect to maintain your peace and ignore their eyes trained on you. it’s probably another harmless prank.
“we love the hoodie,” luke says, all delight conspiracy lacing his voice.
you hum in acknowledgment as you pour hot water for your morning tea. “i’m glad you like them.” you’re feeling chrysanthemum. now where did it go? you rummage through the cupboard and ask if they know where the flowers are, not paying attention enough to puzzle out kieran’s cryptic whisper to his twin, “i told you so.”
there’s the sound of someone slapping someone’s arm — probably the boys play fighting again — and luke calling out, “chrysanthemum is on the left. bottom drawer.”
“thanks, luke!” they’re sweet to you and occasionally, they’ll rope you in on their schemes so there’s never a dull moment around. when sylus first welcomes you, one of the twins will always keep you company. probably as a surveillance measure from sylus.
“boss is away,” kieran, the more sensible one says though the mischief in his voice is still very much present.
“he should be back soon,” luke adds.
you give a sound of acknowledgment. they like to tell you where the boss is all the time and you’ve always taken it in stride as their habit to inform you even if it’s obvious when sylus is not present sometimes. it’s an indulgence you make for them — to not dismiss their announcement outright especially when you’re aware of said fact and pretend each time that they’re delivering some grand news you don’t know. you suspect it’s now more of a tradition than anything else, knowing how sharp they are. you watch the flowers bloom under hot water and blow on the cup, impatient for a sip even if it’s still a weak brew.
“in about 2 minutes, i reckon,” kieran says, which is new. they don’t normally give you sylus’ eta. you eye them warily.
“no, a minute and 47 seconds. i tracked his bike.”
“that’s cheating.”
“only cuz you didn’t think of it first.”
kieran throws his hands up and grumbles about not wanting to pay up for the bet.
further down the hall, the front door swings open.
“well, none of us win then,” kieran says.
“i’m still closer so i win.”
“no,” kieran explains, patiently, and hauls his twin up. “we never said it should be accurate on the dot.”
“oh look at the time,” luke feigns ignorance to his twin and starts making his way towards the exit. “it’s our cue to leave. bye miss!”
“have fun!” kieran tells you as he chases his twin with arguments as to why he owes him nothing and the bet is a bust.
you raise your hand in a wave to empty air, wondering what that is all about before chucking it to their typical shenanigans. it’s a crisp winter morning so you decide to spend a bit of time leaning on the kitchen island with your tea and a sudoku puzzle on your phone. heavy footsteps alert you to sylus heading your way and when you feel his presence in the room, you greet him without looking up, counting the number of 4s on the board. “welcome back.”
you pen a 7 on the upper right hand box and put down the phone when there’s no response. maybe he wants to talk? he’s not moving nor did he acknowledge your greeting. it’s then when you see the cufflinks on his sleeves. “oh, you found the cufflinks! did you like it?”
there’s a perplexing look on his face as he approaches you— one you’re not familiar with. you wonder if maybe he doesn’t like it and is coming up with a way to ask if you have the receipt still to do a full return. you know he doesn’t wear long sleeves often or he does but the sleeves are usually rolled up, but you have seen him with the full get up with a suit and everything once in a while when meetings are set up and events where formal wear is required. you didn’t expect him to wear it so soon… maybe there’s a defect you didn’t spot? you decide to save him the trouble, “if you don’t like it, it’s fine! i can return them if you want.”
“no,” his voice like gravel. “it’s a great gift.”
“oh,” you reply stupidly because now you’re not sure why he looks so… solemn? sad? it doesn’t fit him at all. “well, i’m glad you like it.”
“i do.”
“okay.”
his eyes search yours. never had he look at you this way, this… reverent wistfulness you’re not sure you’re meant to see, like he’s memorizing the features on your face. “sylus,” you say, softly, afraid to break this moment you’re not sure is yours to keep, yet is still fragile all the same. “what’s wrong?”
he smiles something awful, all rueful and wrong. “nothing,” he says and it’s starting to worry you — this odd behavior of his. lying so awfully, no comeback to distort the truth somehow. you wonder what happened when he was out. a new threat?
“you’re not going to die are you?”
he chokes out a laugh, “no, no i’m not.”
“okay. then, can i help with this ‘nothing’?”
he looks subdued again, all forlorn with regret. slowly, he raises his hand and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. you hold your breath at the sudden touch, all gentle and careful and again, confusion freezing you in place because yes, friends can touch and tidy your hair, but shouldn’t this only be reserved for miss hunter? it’s also the first time he has ever touched you this gently. you know it’s wrong. he belongs to someone you consider a friend. you’ll berate him tomorrow and come clean to miss hunter tomorrow too. you should stop it, but he looks like he needs it. “don’t worry about it,” he says, and whether he read your mind or he’s refusing your help, you choose to believe him as you always do, savoring the warmth of his hand and a touch not tainted with cruelty.
———————————————————————
end notes:
alexa play: but if you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.
in case it wasn't clear: reader is not mc in the current timeline, but reader is the myth mc, just with no memory of it. sylus mistakes game mc as his counterpart. and so the present timeline of sylus meeting game mc exists just the same here.
summary: you've never had much luck with love, others choosing prettier flightier beings compared to you. that changes when you meet him in a flower shop. sylus x you. flowershop AU. No evols here. now playing: musique pour la tristesse de xion. inspired by this: dissection, sylus's birthday card. thank you @rika-mmendmethings for sending me down this divine hell-hole haha. Epilogue here
To be cherished.
To be held.
To be loved.
These are the words you hold dear—words your parents whispered into your ear when you were young, words your cousins modeled with their husbands and children running amok like fireflies, words you found tapestried in dog-eared books and slow-burning romance films.
You, however, never had quite such luck in relationships.
Your partners never stayed for long. They preferred to migrate to finer things like moths to a flame, a flame you could never hold in the same way.
...
He knocks on your door, gives you a bouquet of flowers and you try not to dissect the meaning of each petal pushing past clear cellophane.
Yellow carnations.
It’s become a habit to dissect everything, lately.
Smile, you idiot. You try to look amiable but with the tired “come in” that accompanies his entrance, you doubt there’s much sincerity in either of your greetings.
At least he remembered your anniversary.
A bitter pill you will have to swallow, knowing this will be your last.
...
It’s been three years. Three years of you floundering to find your place by his side, of him climbing the ranks to achieve executive status at his newest job, of you turning over parts of yourself you never wanted to hide.
Your plushies, your collection of perfumes, your charmed bracelets, your carefully curated jar of starry wishes.
All gone.
You stare at the empty condo that used to be yours ours, and close the chapter you hope to never rekindle.
You start to question whether those words you hold dear hold much truth.
...
Your coworkers are perceptive, painfully so.
Tara likes to give you chocolates after lunch breaks, “something sweet for my sweetest friend,” she always whispers.
Simone likes to give you mints when you’ve been staring at the computer for too long, “come, some fresh air will do you good.” You never have the heart to refuse the way her hand grips securely around yours.
Andrew likes to give you thin pieces of paper when your pen caps are chewed astray, “you said you liked folding origami stars so…..” the way his words trail off into the atmosphere always leave your hands trembling, your heart achingly hollow.
Their love, however present, never quite feels the same.
...
It’s a Tuesday afternoon when you decide enough is enough.
Enough of the wallowing, enough of the self-pity, enough of the waiting for fate to enthrall you.
You will be grasping happiness your own way.
And that starts with the very gift you tried to hate: flowers.
You stare at the non-ambiguous sign—a crow clutching a pair of moonflowers—and enter.
...
The space is not what you expected.
Floor to ceiling windows covered by half-open blackout curtains, macrame pots dangling from abandoned light fixtures, scattered vertebrae? serving as place holders for spindly air plants asking for whispers of water and sun.
The floors are lined with luxurious rugs made of tight-knit fibers, a shade of maroon so red you wonder whether you’re swimming in a sea of blood.
The bookshelves are filled with texts encyclopedic in nature—101 plants that thrive in the shade, A Mycologist’s Guide to the World’s Most Deadly Fungi, Common plants toxic to cats and dogs, 101 species of carnivorous plants, How to Care for Daturas.
The last book sends a tingle through your spine, a genus of plants you know well to be beautiful in nature but deceptively cruel. Poisonous.
You’re about to leave the store when you feel an ominous presence behind you.
“Can I help you, miss?”
You grab a bone from one of tables and turn to let out a scream, determined to throw it at the intruder—
But the scream never comes.
...
You wake to the smell of ginger and honey. Warm, cloyingly sweet, suffusing the room with calm.
You’re laying on a plush velvet couch with a jacket thrown over you.
A finger twitches in front of you, rubbing the fabric absentmindedly.
Heavy. Soft. Expensive.
Definitely not something you would buy for yourself.
You sit up slowly, catching the jacket before it can fall to the floor. It feels precious, worn, like a second skin. Red with swaths of black spanning from the left arm to the lower torso. A horseshoe pin delicately pinned to the right lapel. It feels unfamiliar yet not all the same—too personal for you to carelessly leave behind.
So, you don’t.
You’re about to stand when the door to the room opens and he enters, with two steaming cups of tea and one eerily familiar crow sitting on his shoulder.
“Hello,” the very voice you thought you feared speaks, “it seems we meet again, kitten.”
....
What greets you is moonlit hair, squared back shoulders, sharp cheekbones, fingers long enough to span an entire piano’s keys, and eyes a startlingly bright garnet.
The color pulls you in like a siren drawn to the ebb and flow of the sea.
Pretty.
You blush when he catches you staring for too long, and you shutter your eyes downwards. You pretend to not hear the chuckle he leaves in your wake.
He sets down the two cups on the coffee table, folding his legs in the chair across from you. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush. Doesn’t demand for answers, doesn’t fill the silence with meaningless chatter. As if waiting for you to speak on your own terms.
You drink a sip, blinking your eyes rapidly at how sweet the tea is; much sweeter than you would like but comforting all the same.
It reminds you of home—of days with your paternal grandmother who’d cut you fruits while she visited, who made you ginger tea just like this when your body ached, who spoke to you in broken English while you spoke to her in broken Mandarin, who hugged you with her weathered hands, who always called you beautiful, and who declared she was proud of you when no one else did. It reminds you of a love that transcends boundaries, of a love of simpler things, of a love that lingers.
And then the ache returns again, the words you’ve almost forgotten bubbling back to the surface (to be cherished, to be held, to be loved). You clear your throat to speak, trying to cover the sorrow that you’d rather hide than show to a stranger, “I’m sorry. Did I do anything to inconvenience you?”
“Not necessarily,” he takes a casual sip of his cup, “unless you count throwing a bone at me and knocking yourself out from it hitting you back in the face.”
You stand abruptly, squeaking in mortification. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I am not,” he laughs heartily, “You have good instincts, kitten.”
You scrunch your nose at the nickname. “Can you not call me that, please?”
He places down his cup, smiling more earnestly now. “Let’s start over, shall we?” He holds his out hand across the table, “I’m Sylus and this is Mephisto, the face of the shop.” He points to the crow on his shoulder, who caws in greeting.
You look at his hand, look at him, at the crow on his shoulder, then at his hand once more.
“I don’t bite, kitten.” You furrow your brow in distaste. “Isn’t it common courtesy to introduce yourself?”
Finally, you shake his hand and give him your name. A flicker of surprise graces your features, marveling at how soft his fingers are for someone who breathes intimidation. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth. I didn’t mean to harm you.”
“No offense taken. Now,” he withdraws slowly, “what can I help you with? I believe you came into this shop for a reason, yes?”
You smile timidly, “A bouquet, please.”
He stands and gestures for you to follow, “As you wish,” his eyes sparkle with mirth as he lingers in the doorway, “my lady.”
You try to ignore the traitorous heart of yours that skips a beat.
...
It’s become a regular occurrence of you visiting Sylus’s shop.
The first time you came, you asked for flowers to give you strength. He gave you a bundle of gladiolus, their upward blooms catching sunlight on days you couldn’t see it yourself. You smiled and vowed to come back.
The second time you returned, you asked for flowers to give you peace. He gave you a newspaper roll of lavender and a bottle of lavender bath salts, “A gift for a returning customer,” he insisted when you tried to pay extra. You dried the narrow stems and hung them over your kitchen windowsill.
The third time you returned, you asked for flowers in celebration. You were recently promoted to a managerial position you were eying for the past year and your best friend recently gave birth to a healthy baby girl. He gave you a glass vase of sunflowers, an exotic pot of orchids, and a free card. “I imagine she’d like to know this was from you,” he placed the card into your hands before you could protest, his eyes softening to a wondrous shade of burgundy. He even suggested a nearby wine shop after you mentioned your friend’s love for red wine. “Get the vintage, darling, you won’t regret it.” You left with your ears burning and your fingers tingling—somehow it didn’t feel like he was referring to just the wine.
The fourth time you returned, you asked for something different—not flowers for you, but for someone else. It was early November, the day your mother passed. These flowers were for remembrance. You took the day off work, dressed in the comfiest clothes you could find, and stepped into the shop. You remember him looking at you once and nodding in understanding, as if he already unraveled the layers of grief you were barely containing. “Tulips,” you whispered. He paused while wrapping the flowers with twine, “They were her favorite.” You silently thanked him for not commenting on the way your eyes glistened. He pushed the bundle of delicate blooms towards you and closed the shop early, “Do you mind if I come with you?”
You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, didn’t have the courage to confess you didn’t want to be alone either. You spent the day together, with him standing beside you at your mother’s tombstone. Watched him slowly help you clean the dust and grime off the placard until only the letters of her name remained. You cried into his shoulder that day, thankful to have a friend who could cherish her existence as much as you did. He held you close, folding you gently into his arms much like when you pressed flowers in heavy books—as if to preserve this moment between the both of you.
By the time you visited for the fifth time, you were starting to wonder what his existence meant to you.
....
You arrive at the shop, less weary, more awake, hopefully more presentable.
It’s spring now, April, and you’ve never been so happy to survive another winter.
You overheard from Luke and Kieran, Sylus’s adoptive brothers, that his birthday was today. You were determined to give him something in return for the endless kindness he gave you.
“Little one,” they parroted, “what are you worrying about?”
You twiddled your thumbs nervously, “Do you know what he likes? Does he even like gifts? What if he doesn’t like mine—”
“Now now, birdie,” Kieran mollified, ruffling your hair, “I’m sure he’d like anything you gave him.”
Luke chimed in, leaning in to tickle your waist, “Boss isn’t picky! It’s the thought that counts!”
You swatted Luke’s hands away, trying to stifle the laughter that was bubbling between your frustration, “That doesn’t help at all!”
And so now you were here, desperately hoping you chose the right answer.
“Here goes nothing,” you murmur as you open the door.
Mephisto greets you at the door as always, hopping on your shoulder to drop a shiny trinket in your waiting palm. Another bottle cap, this time from an aged Belgian lager. You remember this lager, this was one of Sylus’s favorites. You run your fingers over his feathers in thanks, smiling at the commonplace routine you’ve formed.
“You know, he doesn’t let anyone else do this,” Sylus commented as you were helping Mephisto sort through his daily collection of treasures.
“Do what?” You giggled at how he would place a coin in your palm and hop over to the basket he wanted you to put it in. “You’re so smart, Mephie!”
“I mean, not even the twins are allowed to help Mephisto sort through his trinkets,” he scratched under Mephisto’s chin, earning a soft caw in response, “most of the time, he prefers to do this alone. I only help when he has too many to sort through.” You felt his eyes boring into you as he leaned against the counter, “He must adore you.”
“Does he now?” You slowly placed the coin in the basket, the clatter filling the prolonged silence. You turned towards him, a newfound wave of confidence blooming in your chest, “Then what does his master think of me?”
He leaned in closer until his forehead touched yours, a rare show of fondness breaking through his usual facade, “I think you already know, my lady.”
You reached across the counter and entwined your fingers with his, occupying the spaces between his fingers with your own. Tentative. Wanting. Asking. “And what if I don’t?”
He inched closer, his gaze flitting between your eyes and lips, “Then–”
The twins burst into the shop, crowing in unison, “Boss, we’re done!”
You pulled away quickly, ignoring the way the daisies across the counter were shining and laughing at you. You spared him a glance as the twins swarmed around him in concern, relishing the way his ears turned as red as yours.
“Boss, what’s wrong? Do you have a fever? Do we need to call the doctor–”
You never laughed so hard in your life.
....
“My lady?”
You clutch the gift to your chest, heart beating like a wardrum.
And when you turn, Sylus is a vision.
Cream colored suit, mauve sash, speckles of gold in his necklace and his brooch, you’ve never seen him in these colors before. Bright, warm, enticing like the first crocuses that bloom in early spring. So unlike the deep reds and blacks he usually wears.
And suddenly, you’re brought back to that day when you stood in the doorway, wholly inadequate in the face of an ex-lover who molded you into a woman you didn’t want to be. You look at your outfit, muted greens and whites all tied together by a simple belt and a pair of boots. Your beauty pales in comparison to his, and suddenly you’re not sure whether you want to give this gift to him. Are you sure you will ever be enough for him?
He’s the first to speak, his tone growing increasingly concerned, “Sweetie? Darling? Kitten?”
The last name is enough to elicit a growl from you, fiery irises glaring at him with mild irritation.
“There you are, my beloved,” he croons. He squeezes your hand softly in his, sways towards you like daffodils blowing in the wind.
“My beloved?” Your voice raises another octave, and you search his eyes for any wavering uncertainty. You find none.
“Yes?”
You struggle to find the words to say in the face of a man who has delivered his confession to you so casually. So instead, you shove the gift into his chest, hoping your actions will do the talking for you.
“A book?”
On the cover sits a single red moonflower pressed into the clear window. You urge him to keep going.
On the first page sits the gladiolus he gifted you. A note, scrawled in your nervous handwriting: Thank you for giving me strength when I didn’t have any.
On the second page sits a piece of dried lavender. Thank you for giving me peace when I didn’t know how to find it.
On the third page sits a pressed sunflower. Thank you for celebrating my wins with me.
On the fourth page sits a dried tulip, almost as vibrant as the day you took it to your mother’s grave. Thank you for accompanying me when I didn’t want to be alone. Thank you for allowing me to grieve. Thank you for not tiring of me.
And on the last page, the scattered remnants of a red rose, crystallized in your devotion for both of them to see. Thank you for cherishing me. Thank you for holding my heart ever so carefully. Thank you for loving me.
And that’s when the pages fall, when you fall, and he falls with you.
“Happy Birthday, my beloved,” you echo. Your vision corrodes at the edges as he suddenly presses himself to you, his lips finding purchase on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks, your chin and eventually your lips.
Closer to reassure you. Closer to prove his undying love for you. Closer to remind you that he will never tire of you. Closer to remind him that you will never tire of him.
And finally, after years worth of drought, you feel incandescently happy.
