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abyssyby · 13 hours ago

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sylus's little twins — intro

— meet Lucian & Kyros, sylus’s little energy storm! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: hi hi hi! im so excited to get this out hehehe, a formal-ish introduction to the twin boys i've been writing about in my boydad!sylus au. they were initially passing thoughts, but with all of your continuous enthusiasm towards the littles, they'd grown into these darling characters. i hope you enjoy & love them as much as i do! ❀-urs

kyros & lucian highlight | sylus x reader | parenting hcs/scenarios, little twin hcs, mama!reader, soft boydad!sylus 💕 ft. big twins (luke & kieran)!

general info:

☆ Lucian was born first, Kyros 10.9 minutes later

��്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

sylus was there for all the check-ups & ultrasounds but only found out you were having twins during the last check-up.

Lucian has always been more energetic and drawn to the spotlight, even in the womb— Kyros, sleepier and cozier, has tucked himself behind his brother in all their photos. It wasn't until the final weeks that Lucian decided to reveal his first little surprise to his parents— when he shifted and made way for them to meet the second heartbeat. Sylus had to take a seat. "Beloved, breathe," you chuckled, rubbing his thumb with your own as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

sylus barely slept the first three days they were born, watching all three of you like a guard dog

not so much worried that something terrible will befall something so wonderful

but just… taking it all in— something he'd never thought he'd have in any lifetime, and yet here you are. giving, giving, giving— his generous heart.

he walked to your side of the bed, pressed kisses to your forehead as you slept. you’d stir awake to him brushing your hair out of your eyes, feeling your cheekbones with the pad of his thumb. eyes soft and teary like melting lava. you yawn, catching his wrist with your fingers. “you okay? is something wrong?” he smiles, shakes his head. “no. everything’s perfect.”

he hovers over the boys constantly. quick to pick one up when he stirs.

"hello, little one, shh..." he murmurs. his voice breaks at the volume, unused to being so careful before. but he is trying. he will try everyday. "papa is here. papa's got you."

cant help but poke on their cheeks as they sleep, or ruffle their hair with his finger (they're so small, he can't believe it)

the first twin to grab his finger and hold on is kyros, and sylus needed several minutes to compose himself

when one or both cries, sylus is always the first to respond. he checks diapers, gas and if it’s hunger, he wakes you gently (he's master of the night shift atp)

tummy time was difficult for him in the start, fearing the baby wouldn’t like it, that he’d run too warm or he accidentally shifts them the wrong way. but once he starts, it becomes his favorite pastime.

he hums to them, sings to them, reads to them. theres always at least one strapped to his chest as he goes about his day in the base.

when they get a little older and they can roll over on their bellies, sylus spends hours on his belly too, studying their faces and expressions. his sole purpose is to make them react. peek-a-boo is a favorite.

when lucian starts to babble (kyros will follow soon after) sylus is over the moon. he loves talking back to them.

“ahh-ah. ooo-ea-ea.” kyros coos, pulling his legs up and down as if bouncing. “i understand, but mephisto is made of metal.” sylus says, chin resting on the nest his forearms had formed on the edge of the bassinets. “ah a wi wi waaaghu” lucian counters. “i didn’t see it that way. maybe i will try to change his synthetic fibers.” sylus nods. “ji ji aah! ah!” kyros. “and pre-record wheels on the bus, yes.”

sylus 🤝🏻 nursery rhymes (he sings them in the shower??)

you and sylus both love watching them discover each other— like, they’d just forget the other exists for a while until they glance beside them and see their faces staring back. the giggles, the smiles, the eventual spit up— magical

the big twins (kieran and luke) sob when they realize their names are inspired by their own

"Luke, hold Kyros's neck steady," you advise as you hand him the baby. Luke sits excitedly on the couch, arms out, nodding enthusiastically. it was an amusing little position he was in— he'd cocooned himself between all the throwpillows in the living room and looked like a bird in his nest. "Yes, got it." he says. he's done his research. he and Kieran practiced on cantaloupes while you were away. "Cradle the baby to support his hips and back." Kieran quotes from the LinkiHow, sitting on the other side of the couch, also cocooned in all the pillows. Sylus gave them tired but fond looks. "This is Lucian." Sylus says, placing his son carefully in Kieran's awaiting arms. It takes a minute, but you can always count on them to make a connection. Luke says it jokingly, "Hey, boss man, they both have our initials." You smile unironically. "Do you like it?" Kieran freezes, getting the implication almost immediately. "What?" It snaps into Luke a second later. "What?!" It's very difficult to cry with newborns in their arms. Good thing the pillows minimized the trembling.

never lets you and sylus hear the end of it

"When Lucian climbs on my shoulders, we're a giant robot called Lu-lu." Kieran snorts. "Lemon?" "Can you shut up for once in your life?"

"Boss man, how's mini me?" "Boss hunter, can we borrow the little twins? Namesakes have to bond." and the famous "Hey, dad," one too many times to Sylus. (sylus never corrects them)

steals them away when they’re able to sit up on their own, stays within the base, but at the sight of the masks, the little twins are sent into fits of happy wiggles

kieran and luke are first to experience the two playing more intricate pretend scenarios (they're big influences)

the little twins’ first prank is to doodle on sylus’s face (sylus was awake, giggling even, but the little twins were 100% sure they got away with it. big twins supervised.)

Lucian the blinding flash of lightning

pronounced: loo・see・yan

also called “Cian” (see-yan)

also known as: angel (mama & papa), little boss (big twins), JAWS (kieran when lucian bit him the first time), little dragon (papa)

has bright, carmine eyes, forever shining with mischief

socialized very early when he refused to be apart from mama or papa

first word is “mama”. sylus was very excited for you (“papa” followed soon after)

"Say papa." Sylus coaxes, bouncing Lucian on his knee. His boy's bright eyes focused on his mouth, as he made popping noises to emphasize the p's. "P-p-aaa. Papa." Lucian followed the movements with a gummy little smile. But no sound emerged from his mouth. Sylus did everything in his power to make him vocalize, but Lucian's will was stronger than his father's charm. And then you came. Kyros had just gone down for his second nap, and you plop down beside Sylus and Lucian. "It's mama." Sylus points out. And with his full chest, proud and loud, Lucian booms. "Mama!" You scream. Sylus is speechless for a moment but cheers nonetheless. Showers Lucian with kisses and praise. Maybe Kyros will get his p's right.

always strapped on someone’s chest or back in his early days, wriggling in the carrier and testing the bounce

kieran and luke’s test gerbil— uh, sorry, play buddy

Lucian, having been exposed more to people and positive reinforcement, was quick to gain confidence to try things without fear or even consciousness of failure

so he flips over first, sits up first, crawls first, has his first steps first and is running by the time kyros can put one foot before the other without support

but he has more little scrapes and bruises from being so active

loves mama! loves loves loves mama. mama gives him kissies and sweeties. and mama says “yay! Lucian!” in the most beautiful voice

loves papa too. is a little intimidated by him— only because papa is the first to see his mistakes when he tumbles and falls. papa makes that “tsss” noise when he picks him up.

but then papa gives warm hugs. and his hair is soft. and papa is tall, and lucian likes sitting on his shoulders.

lucian loves the sky. you'd "sun" them often when they were little, just sit outside in the shade for the warmth and the nutrients. it was lucian's favorite thing, having developed a Pavlovian response to the words "sun time!" before he even knew what they meant— he'd be wriggling already.

lucian thinks kyros is a little mouse. he adores kyros, always cheers him on like everyone does for him— “ya! go keewo!”

but kyros looks so small (theyre the same size)

and lucian is overcome with the responsibility of protecting his brother

lucian loves hugging kyros (coined the term "squeezy-squeezes"), learning from everyone around him how to treat his brother

sometimes can get a little too rough

made kyros cry once— he cried harder.

The twins have been in their little playpen for a while, throwing stuffed-balls that jingle at each other as a game of catch. Kyros catches with your help, his back against your belly. Your arms like wings maneuver his to catch the ball in a gentle clap. "Cat!" Lucian says. He's already mastered the act of throwing down to a tee. But somehow a heavier rubber ball had rolled into their soft ball pile, and he'd chucked it at Kyros's nose. "Oh!" you startle first, bending down to see Kyros's face already puckered up in a silent sob. "Oh, darling." Sylus is already at the door at the sound, taking in the scene before him. Your worried fussing, Kyros's reddening nose and... A wailing, louder than the offended's fills the room. Terror-stricken and horrified, Lucian empties his little lungs at the image of his brother sobbing because of him. "Lucian." Sylus sighs, picking him up and rocking him side to side. Mama and papa danced side to side, soothing, as they sang a painful little harmony for them for a while.

absorbs how you and sylus interact.

⟢ places both palms on papa’s face to look in his eyes — "papa, shmeeties." (sweeties) ⟢ presses his nose to papa’s cheek when he's in his arms and papa is talking to someone else ⟢brushes your hair back from your eyes when you're telling him, "lucian, no more sweeties, okay?" ⟢ kisses your forehead the most ⟢ pokes papa’s lips when he’s idling or reading

likes sweeties (candies, cakes, ice creams, u name it)

loves to climb! loves going up, up high!

needs that vestibular input when he teeters on the edge of something (effectively giving sylus daily heart attacks)

does not like hats :(

drags kyros by the hand everywhere (kyros does this too! learns it from lucian)— one time when kyros couldnt quite walk yet, you find lucian dragging him face-planted across the floor. kyros kinda just went with it

started the trend of running up to you or sylus when you get home from missions and throwing himself in your arms

sensitive. doesnt like being scolded but understands to an extent why. sylus is good at explaining discipline to his toddlers.

“papa doesn’t want you to get hurt. so I'm saying it in a strong voice so you listen and remember,” sylus explains firmly. “love lucian? papa?” he asks, snot and tears running down his blotchy red cheeks. sylus softens, huffing the through his nose and wiping his son's tears away with his thumbs. “of course i love you, angel. just, please stop sliding down the bannister.” oh, sylus is so very tired.

sleeps with his limbs strewn about

sylus is always hit in the eye when they nap together

Kyros the gentle rumble of thunder

pronounced: kee・ ros

also called “kyro” ("kee-ro" as Lucian so lovingly puts it, unable to get that s sound just yet)

also known as: angel (mama & papa), little boss (big twins), KYYYYROSSS (luke, when they lift him over their head like a presentation to the gods), and turtle (papa)

his eyes are a darker shade of red, like a stormy sea of blood. and so his little baby stares are extra O.O when he’s watching everyone around him

kyros was sickly during his first few months, which led to him being a little less socialized compared to his brother

sylus was very doting on kyros, worried immensely, didnt know a wink of sleep for the first three months of thunderous little coughs rattling such a small, fragile body

he held him more, gave him the medicine, took shifts with you when you forced him to get rest

but kyros pulled through. he’s healthy by the time the third month rolls in, and so he starts rolling, too

kyros watches lucian do his firsts and copies. less trial, less error— the little owl he is

his babbles were quieter, and so you whisper to him hushed words of affirmation

"ehh? egh ah!" kyros coos, eyes locked onto yours as if actually making conversation at 4 months. "yes, angel, you’re very handsome." you smile back, exaggerated nods, and a lilting voice. "ah-ooo, oo-eeh." "much muuuuch more than papa." you affirm. and suddenly sylus is right behind you. "hm? sorry?"

he does get his p's right!! but first word is “pito” (mephisto -> phisto -> pisto -> ⊹ ࣪ ˖ pito ⊹ ࣪ ˖), his baby monitor

loves papa. oh, sylus really did a number on him by sticking with him during those sick months. now he’s formed an attachment.

most comfortable with papa. likes being held by him, snuggles his messy little hair in the crook of sylus’s neck, mouths gummy little kisses on sylus’s cheeks.

had a phase where he relayed all his thoughts in a whisper to papa. sylus would broadcast it for everyone else to hear. he'd nod in approval with a little "mhm."

loves mama too, of course. loves mama’s voice. mama’s scent. he almost always falls asleep in your presence. never, ever fussy with you.

has developed very particular sensory needs— preferring deep pressure hugs, dimmer lighting, and more gentle, quieter sounds

he works through most issues, but in his toddler stage, he’s easily spooked and startled— cries often when he is

loves lucian! lucian is eternally amusing to him. his favorite slapstick. lucian, his walking chatty clone— tumbling over and startling him and making him giggle. he loves Lucian.

lucian's hugs! love that!

lucian's games! so fun!

lucian's attempts to string him along (even if he ends up waxing the floor with his forehead)! owwie, but yes!!

kyros feels his feelings deep and slow. disciplining him is like yelling at a baby duck with too-large eyes and a pouty little lip

it's very hard to stay mad at him (sylus struggles the most)

“kyros? you understand why papa is mad, right?” kyros doesnt move. doesn't even look at him. sylus swallows. “kyros, papa is mad because…” kyros starts hiccuping, choking on silent tears. “papa mad.” sylus digs his nails into his palms. “papa... mad because you almost got hurt. got an ouchie.” kyros nods. “Papa mad. ouchie.” on second thought, sylus isnt that good at disciplining toddlers. "kyros, say you understand." "un'tad." kyros weeps. "okay." sylus grabs his baby and cradles him to his chest. he peppers kisses into his hair and holds him tight. “no more. all done.” “all done.” kyros sobs. sylus has to hold his back too.

kyros likes the nighttime, the outdoors. when he was sick, sylus often stood on the balcony and talked to him about the stars. somehow that absorbed.

kyros thrives in music. you discovered this, when he was fussy one day, and you were tired and aching, and decided to hum a tune into the crown of his head as you rocked him side to side

he quieted instantly, and you realize the vibrations of your voice have resonated in his skull— effectively calming him by buzzing like a bee

aside from papa, lucian is his next pillar of support. he tends to grasp onto lucian's hand and tug on his shirt when he gets that little bit scared.

likes the kitchen. happy to be in a carrier as you or sylus cooks. he likes the scents and the chop-chop-chop sounds.

likes hats :)

the first to bap! lucian when they got into a little argument. big emotions overwhelmed him easily, so when lucian took the stuffie from his hands, his little fist came down on lucian's thigh— it didnt hurt, but they were both told off and both cried

kyros clung to lucian all day after that — “sowwi, see-yan, sowwi.” 🥺

the big twins still navigate around kyros more cautiously, trying to learn his subtlety, but they get it eventually. kyros reminds them of themselves when they were much smaller, seeking comfort and a safe space. they do everything in their power to provide that for him (and lucian too)

kyros asks with little words, speech at a slower & steadier rate of development

"papa home?" "squash! more?" (uses the little more gesture) "pease?" "hug! hug!" "one, two cookie? pease?" (spams the more gesture again)

uses your and sylus’s pet names for each other to address you sometimes

“ma bub (my love), papple juice, pease?” to papa “peepie (sweetie), up?” to mama “peepart (sweetheart), pease? pease, peepart?” “na-night dadin' (darling)!” to lucian

likes apple juice 🧃💕

is super mesmerized by mephisto, but still gets surprised at his movements— flinches when mephisto shakes, freezes up when mephisto stretches his wings— but is trying to be friends. likes the jingling windchime sound mephisto does when he shakes his feathers.

loves story books. he appreciates whoever reads to him, curling himself around whoever’s arm, chubby little cheek pressed to a bicep as half-lidded eyes follow fingers hovering over words (will eventually learn to read first)

sleeps in this little kitty loaf position, with his fists in his eyes and his body curled in this child’s pose/fetal position

sylus has to right him in his sleep so he doesnt ache in the morning

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: if youve made it this far, i wish i could give you a big hug. thank you for reading all about the littles. they're full of life & love, and there will be stories where they bring that out of sylus, mama & the big twins too, and i hope you stick around for that <3 ❀-urs

✧˚ ⋆｡ read more with the little twins here | first little twin headcanon | author's pick: little twins & big twins fic | more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

feel free to send in messages/questions/drabble requests about them in my inbox, I'll be happy to gush about them some more hehe ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾♡

dividers by @saradika-graphics

thank you for reading!

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s0fter-sin · 2 months ago

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pt.2 of my horror au! you can find pt.1 here!

cw mild horror, descriptions of a dead animal (not riley)

to say johnny’s gotten used to the man living in his walls would be the biggest lie he’s ever tried to spin. he doesn’t have a choice but to get used to him

he won’t let johnny leave

he’s always watching him, even if he can’t see him; the walls and ceiling groaning with his weight as he follows him throughout the house during the day, only ever peeking through the vents when the sun’s gone down. if he even gets close to the front door, the vents shake like he’s sprinting towards him and the sheer panic is enough to make him stumble back; his heart pounding in his chest

he was paralysed the first night he saw the man, clutching riley to his chest in the middle of the bed, just waiting for him to come back and do god knows what to them- but the walls were silent

if it weren’t for the lingering damp on his hand and the slight scrape on the side of the vent, johnny could almost convince himself the whole thing was just some twisted waking nightmare

it was only when the sun crept over the horizon that he dared to step off the bed, riley tight in his arms, and held his breath as he escaped out the front door-

only to feel smug eyes on the back of his head when he saw his car tires slashed and random pieces of the motor ripped out and strewn across the yard

the message was clear

johnny can’t leave

the man won’t let him

the next few days passed in a haze of dread. johnny kept waiting for the man to come back, never eating or sleeping except for the snatches his body forced him to take. he can fight but from the glimpse he caught of the man and the weight of the sounds in the walls, the man was big. even if he did knock him out, where could he go? it would take hours of running before he reached another house

he never let riley out of his sight, feeding him in his room after he tipped the wardrobe over in front of the vent. it was only then he realised his phone was missing too

he was utterly trapped; a rabbit with his leg broken, waiting for the jaws to close around him

but the man didn’t come back

johnny’s panic turned into rage. then after another week of nothing turned into confused acceptance and determination

if he can’t leave, he’s not going die in a house with moldy baseboards

“i’m going out the back!” johnny announces loudly in the dining room - the room with the most vents - and almost flinches when he hears the slight reverberations through them. “i’ll come back in when i’m done but i’m not gonna let you stop me from workin’!”

nothing answers him. not a creak or a groan or a scratch. just complete silence

he wishes it didn’t make him feel so much worse

johnny takes a deep breath and wills his hand not to shake as he reaches for the doorknob, wincing at its obnoxious creak, and waits

and waits

nothing

johnny blows out a long breath. “alright, then,” he whispers and looks down at riley waiting obediently at his side. “let’s get to work.”

so he keeps fixing it

he builds new frames for the windows and purposely doesn’t acknowledge the heavy gaze on his back every second he’s outside. he replaces the outlets and pulls out the phone line that looks like it’d been chewed through with teeth far too big to be a rat

definitely too big to belong to the skinned rat he finds in the dumbwaiter after following the smell of gored meat, bled dry and spread out like a gift

a gift offered after a day spent repairing the roof, riley sitting diligently at the base of the ladder. a day he didn’t step a single foot inside

a day he didn’t eat at all

johnny looks at the rat, really looks at it. the skin had been cleanly removed, the meat left undamaged; the guts removed from the abdominal cavity. it’s been perfectly cleaned and dressed like it came from a butcher

from a hunter, prepped and ready for eating

it sends a shiver through him. he swallows and gently shuts the dumbwaiter cover, sending the rat back down to the basement then knocks politely on the wall for good measure. he then takes a bunch of fillings from the fridge, some bread and a cutting board, turns off the light and sits in front of the nearest vent

and waits

his breath is so loud, his instincts screaming at him not to have him back to the room. but he knows the only threat in this house will come from directly in front of him

johnny flinches at a distant thud and an immediate scratching starts, starting in the basement and barreling straight towards him

he’s angry

he swears he can hear his heart racing in his chest as the vent in front of him thunks, something heavy and fast weighting it down- then everything abruptly falls silent

he can’t see him

but he knows he’s there

he’s always there

johnny swallows again and lays out the two pieces of bread on the board, the moonlight coming through the window the only illumination he has. the vent remains silent as he layers on deli ham and a few slices of cheese, finishing off with a couple pickles and mayo

he closes the sandwich up and, eyes flicking to the shadows in the vent, picks it up and takes a bite

he chews slowly and lets out a deliberate hum before he takes another bite, dragging it out like it’s the best damn sandwich he’s ever eaten

johnny swallows his last mouthful, sucks a drop of may off his thumb and braces himself. he stands up and turns his back on the vent. he putters around, puts the food away and fills a glass of water and at some point while he’s washing off the cutting board, the vent lightly groans as the man slowly climbs away

he shivers and wonders how crazy it makes him that the rattle almost sounds thoughtful

💀🧼

there’s a sandwich on the floor

johnny’s still trying to catch his breath after hauling all the old moldy baseboards outside, frozen in the action of wiping sweat off his forehead

the bread’s torn, ham and cheese and pickles clumsily and excessively thrown on with sauce dripping out the sides

but it’s a sandwich, sitting on top of his cutting board

johnny tugs off his gloves and slowly walks up to it. the walls are silent. but that doesn’t mean the man isn’t watching

he picks up the cutting board and a voice in the back of his head screams at him as he brings it in front of the kitchen vent and sits just like he did the other day when he made his own sandwich. he hides a preemptive grimace and picks it up-

but it’s not soggy

despite the amount of sauce piled on it and the juice from the near fistful of pickles, the bread is still soft

fresh

you waited for me, johnny realises and something in his chest catches. you waited until i was done and made sure it would be ready for me.

johnny blinks a few times and bites into the sandwich

he can’t remember the last time someone had a meal waiting for him

his ex certainly never did; he always had to be poked and prodded into cooking, never wanted to eat anything they already had or waste time making something when they could just order in. even in other relationships, sure they would ask if he was hungry or make an extra portion when he wasn’t home so he’d have leftovers

but no one’s ever cooked something just for him. just because they wanted to

johnny thickly swallows the last bite

and doesn’t flinch when he looks into the vent and sees the shine of eyes looking back at him

“thank you,” he whispers

the eyes twitch back, almost like the man flinched, then they cock to the side and sink down into the very edges of the darkness, blending into the shadows like a ghost

but he doesn’t leave

and neither does johnny until riley pokes him with his nose, looking for his own dinner

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