#HOLD ME SYLUS

[abyssyby]

beating, not still

— sylus slips into bed with you in the middle of his day to calm the specter that haunts you

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: sy’s chest has been thru the wringer so i wanted to show it some love. accidentally made myself sad writing this. something quick & cute, i’ll edit punctuation & caps in the morning hehe. enjoy! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | angst, fluff, mentions of killing, hurt/comfort, softsyloo

“you like that spot.” sylus murmurs, voice like caving ground and a simmering fire. his large hand comes up to brush your hair out of your face. warm like a furnace. through the curtain, you meet his sleepy gaze.

your lips press against his bare chest, just the tiniest tilt to the right of his sternum. he smells of clean soap, spice and something inherently him— crisp and familiar. the brush of your lips on his skin as you speak makes him shiver, ripples of sensation shooting through his nerves like fire. “good morning.”

“beloved,” he purrs, hauling you up by your shoulders to meet your lips in a tender kiss. “did you sleep well?”

you nod out of instinct. but you were awake in the middle of the night for a reason. he slipped in for a midday nap with you because of something you’d been doing in your sleep.

“are you sure?” he whispers, more sympathetically as he trails his thumb down the line of salt your tears left behind. he kisses your forehead tenderly, “Tell me.”

you turn away, crawling back down to his chest and planting your chin there as a silent protest. “i dont remember.”

he considers you— if you were being stubborn or secretive or brave yet again. but with the way you were trailing your fingers down the middle of his chest, how your ear is so meticulously close to his heart, listening for a thrumming heartbeat that was present and not still— he had a feeling he knew what it was.

“angel.” he implores you, large hand coming to rest on the top of your head. “i’m here.”

your chest tightens. a vacuum pulling every bone inwards until they shatter and crash into the cavity. and you are helplessly trying to ground yourself, match your breathing with the constant badump badump badump of his heart.

“i know.” you squeeze the words out, holding your breath when you do. controlling the amount you let out lest you let loose everything. “i know, sylus.”

“no, look at me.” his finger tilts your chin up from the spot. the spot he cherishes and the spot you despise. the spot you favor. the spot he kept protected until you. the spot where you pointed the gun, and where he pulled the trigger with your finger. the spot you hear his racing heartbeat. the spot you dug your sword into, and killed him the first time. once, a long time ago, relived in a dream.

he sees you. he sees every part of you in the darkness of your bedroom— and still you shine brighter than if all the stars in the sky were to combust. he holds your gaze, because let him keel over and die again and again instead of see you in this pain. “come back to me.”

something inside you stirs— not quite pain, but something deeper, more primal and abstract. your soul, like it was beckoned to heel. to be still as another wraps itself around it. to hold on to its other half that submits itself and never let go.

“i’m a monster.” you finally confess, shattering like glass, all too conscious of staining his palms red. of hurting him. of being foolish enough to take him away from you again.

his lips press into the skin above your brow— his favorite spot. his teeth graze it as he murmurs, “that’s not true.”

“sylus—“ you begin to argue, but he silences you with a kiss. you blink, but don’t let it deter you. “i hurt you.”

“have i ever complained?”

“dont do that.” because how could he not care? how could he look at you with such a loving gaze you do not deserve? how could he forgive you as easily as breathing?

he frowns and then studies your face. “you’re right. you have hurt me.”

and somehow that is worse. of course it is worse. your bottom lip trembles. his thumb comes to rest on the delicate flesh lightly. “my soul hurts with you. when you are in pain, so am I.”

his fingers dance down your spine and hook beneath one thigh. there, he pulls you up to his eye-line. your head rests on his bicep as he presses his forehead against yours. “so listen to me when I say you are the furthest thing from who you are in your nightmares.

“and if you are a monster, then so am I.” he rasps.

his heart races under your palm, his own hand spreading your fingers over his chest. “you’ve never hurt me alone. i’ve always been there to do it with you.”

“If you couldn’t heal—“ you start.

“Then I would have broken all my bones crawling back to you.” he vows.

“If you died—“

“I would have found you in the next life. And the next, and the next.”

“If you felt I hated you.” you hiccup, unable to hold back the tears. the thought of him believing for one second you felt anything but love for him devastated you beyond belief. His eyes fill with warmth as he lowers his tone.

“Then I would have done everything to remind you how much I love you.” He says steadily. “Don’t mourn over who we were, my heart.”

“We are here.” he says, kissing the tip of your nose. floating his lips over the lids of your eyes. “Come back to me and stay.”

ever patient, ever gentle and kind to you. he keeps you in his embrace until you calm, feathering the tip of his nose lightly up and down your cheek as he kisses each of your fingers.

you listen to his heart; to his steady breathing, swaying and cradling you like the push and pull of the tide. you listen to his words, turn them over and around in your head— once, twice, thrice— until they sink deep, deep in your heart. this truth settling like oil in your liquid thoughts.

he watches as you calm. and you melt back down his chest— to the spot where he found you.

“beloved?”

you kiss him there— over the invisible mark of the bullet and the sword and your hatred. what once was his undoing, but has always been his strength. the hand that killed him now holds him tightly, tenderly. lovingly and achingly so.

this is your promise to him— to undo all that was done.

to return. to love. to stay.

his face is almost feverish when you cradle it. his content smirk a charming twitch beneath your thumb as his eyes close at your touch.

your cheek to his chest, iron to a magnet— natural, inevitable. finally, you smile— small, but sincere. enough for him. “i like this spot.”

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

[yapperingtinaa]

Crying in Sylus's arms when things get overwhelmingly bad, his heart aches at the sight of you struggling to stop the tears, your cries muffled against his broad chest.

Sylus's mind raced with anything he could think of to help you feel better - he'd thought of preparing the shooting range to let out all your frustrations or cook your favourite dishes or even coaxing you to go out to get some fresh air together.

But no, you didn't want any of that, with your arms wrapped tightly around his middle as you buried your tear-streaked face into his shoulder, your voice a pained whisper as he listened to your small plea -

"Stay, please." Your voice cracked slightly from all the crying, your body trembling from the intense emotions you were feeling as you slowly lifted your face to look up at him, your expression utterly distraught and exhausted. "I don't want anything else. Just you, please."

You didn't need to tell him twice as Sylus's arms instinctively pulled you closer to him, one hand moved up to cup your cheek as he gently wiped away the tears. "Shh. Its okay."

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before holding you firmer in his arms, the warmth of his body and his soothing reassurance made you melt against his hold. "Everything will be okay. I won't ever leave you alone."

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh, you rested comfortably against him. His hand caressing your back to soothe you more, his calm voice echoing in your mind before the fatigue finally settled in as you fell asleep in his embrace.

"Rest, my beloved. I'll be here when you wake up."

[qinchebaobei]

Sylus • Innocent Birdcage

[alleyross]

so what if. it’s morning, and not the sylus style one but an actual sane person one, which means sylus isn’t happy about waking up at this hour and he begrudgingly moves around kitchen, and you pity him a bit and want to soothe him, so you hug him from behind while he’s making a cup of coffee, but you just. have to hug him tight enough to press onto him completely, and his sweatpants doesn’t hide how quick the warmth of your body makes him react. it’s the morning also, yk. and you’re a little bitch, which isn’t a secret either, so you kinda. put one of your hands on the counter, cornering him to it, and the other — straight down, past the waistband. and why would he ever wear boxers at this crazy hour, right? so it’s naturally his fault for making it easier for you. besides, he’s definitely not complaining about you jerking him off in front of the counter, though the sound he makes does resemble whining. AND he arches and bends too.

[voidsylus]

domesticated life with sylus

it’s no secret that grassland was the spark that granted us with the official title of a relationship. it makes me feel so sentimental seeing how sylus refers to everything as “ours” and how domesticated our life is compared to our dragon days

for instance in a moment post, this isn’t his home “it our little home”

in our kitchen sylus is always cooking food for us and we even mentioned how he would be a great husband

when we need some down time to ourselves, all we want to is to be held in his arms on his lap and feel so content

and my favorite part, after we both finished our jobs, we go to our home in our bed and sleep close to each other

we finally get to live in a relatively peaceful world and amidst the chaos, there is no other partner in crime (sylus even said it) we can rely on more than him. he is our safety net, our comfort, our guide and our home

[leighsartworks216]

Sylus would lose his mind dealing with me cuz I am he most nonconfrontational, passive person to ever exist

"What would you rather do? This or this?"

"Oh I'm fine with either."

"Is there something you'd rather do instead?"

"I'm up for whatever."

But also I know in my heart of hearts he would do everything in his fucking power to (very patiently and so subtly I don't even realize it's happening) break me out of that. Like,,

"I know you enjoy ___, but would you rather do this or this related to it?"

Shit like that

[xaesikk]

Xavier you better hold me tight bc what the fuck—

[starmocha]

THE MOST RELAXED VERSION OF HIM 🥺 HE HAS FOUND THE PLACE WHERE HIS HEART LIVES 🥺😭

[salemrph]

I love to see Sylus with the wolf-cut. And oh geeze, the cat Butler outfit, with glasses...🤤

Having feelings that I wasn't aware I could have for 3D guys. 🤪 Only 3 lvl to go until I get the rings.

[zaynes-left-chesticle]

Screenshots | Lost Oasis 🐦‍⬛

[a3therc0r3]

happy birthday to our favorite dragon

i’m so glad to be here for his first birthday in game!! he’s been my main and my fav since i started(if u couldn’t tell) so i’ve been super excited for this! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYLUS ❤️

(was going to write a bday fic but this week has been… 😪 i’m gonna try to write it over the weekend so stay tuned?? if anyone has any ideas or suggestions for it, pls let me know cause i’ve got none)

[walleeli]

Love and Deepspace LIs as Hozier songs because I am possibly the most qualified person on earth to make this call. backslash dramatic.

Xavier: Better Love

Zayne: Shrike

Rafayel: Through Me (The Flood)

Sylus: NFWMB

Caleb: I, Carrion (Icarian)

Literally all of them: Francesca

[astracora]

'Sylus' tail looks so uncomfortable why would you want that wrapped around you'

[soli-nepenthe]

out of context advice that i'll use to get over my current Caleb fixation...

[sylebs]

/SQUEEZES YOU WINGS + UNDERWATER WITH SYLUS PRETRY PLEAASEEEEE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP

OML /aetherdone. BUT SQUEEZING YOU ;A; thank you sobs lsdflks here we go oml. (because i didn't think this would be long alskdf)

wings : tell me about a time when your f/o was really proud of you.

G O D S — when Maeve finally asks for help from Sylus. She is one to never reach out for help, no matter how badly she actually needs it. And, it's silly, if you think about it. How the thing she asked for help was so small and yet, you could see how Sylus's eyes light up. He had always told her "asking for help doesn't mean you're weak" and she knew that, she always knew that, but she had learned to deal with things herself, to not reach out for help, because it did in fact, made her appear weak.

Incapable.

As if it was carved in her mind that she shouldn't need help because she's more than capable of handling thing herself. Of course, Sylus pulls in the whole "I know you can do it, but let me." So what was it that Maeve needed help with that she finally pushed herself to ask for Sylus's assistance? A coding she was stuck on. She was learning how to code something for a class she was taking on the side. She nearly gave up and Sylus took it as an opportunity to get Maeve to ask him for help.

Instead of him offering the help as per usual, for once, he wanted to hear her say it.

"You know that I will always be more than willing to help you, kitten."

"I know but—"

"Whenever you are ready." He spoke lowly and before he could leave, Maeve reached out to grab onto his shirt.

"...okay, I—" She grumbled, 'need help.'

"What was that, sweetie? I didn't catch that." And, yeah, this fucker is smirking.

Maeve eventually just tugging him before pulling him down so they were somewhat at eye-level. "I need your help. So please help me?"

Needless to say, Sylus was (of course) more than happy to help her and even more so proud; a kiss to the top of her head as he whispered and pulled her into his arms.

"I am so proud of you."

Did Maeve cry? Probably, but not until Sylus left the room.

underwater : describe what it’s like to be loved by your f/o. what would they say it feels like to be loved by you?

To be loved by Sylus is having security and this isn't about his money or his status, actually. But it's about the feeling he makes Maeve feel. It's hilarious to think that prior to their developing relationship, Maeve had such skepticism about him. Considering how she had seen people abuse their power to take control of a situation.

One too many times.

Of course, Sylus inevitably, and without question, proved to Maeve that he was anything but those men who use their rank, power, etc to take control of a situation. Anyways—to be loved by Sylus is intense (so to speak, to Maeve, she matches the intensity) yet soft. Gentle and warm. He does know the things she needs, more than she wants, he had learned how to love her like she needed to be loved.

He is safety, her safe haven. The pair of arms that hold her close and keeps her safe. The safety she didn't need, Sylus provides it. While their begins on rough patches, it was only the beginning of what would bloom into the relationship they have now. His love is calm and healing. His hands may be roughed up or stained with blood of many enemies, he holds Maeve with so much devotion and care, and pure love.

Sylus would say that to be loved by Maeve is to be loved no matter your past, and no matter who you were before your souls meet one another. Of course prior to their meeting, Sylus had always been looking for her and then eventually kept eyes on her (Mephisto), but it would seem that the love she had for him back when he was known as a fiend was no different than when her love bloomed as the days spent with him grew.

Maeve's love is tender, but intense (like Sylus's), again, they match one another. She loves him with as much devotion as he has for her. She would, indefinitely, tell him "tell me all the terrible things you've done and let me love you anyway." Because to Maeve, she doesn't care much of what Sylus had done, because even with tainted hands with the blood of his enemies, he still holds Maeve so dear.

Whilst Sylus may never believe it, no matter how much he wants to, even this Fiend or "monster" needs someone he can let his guard down, be completely vulnerable, and his truest self without scaring his lover and well, that may very well be the way Maeve loves him.

In his truest, most authentic self. Behind the bravado. Behind that confidence that slices down his opponents, lies a man who will fall to his knees and do anything for his beloved and Sylus would say, Maeve would do the same, even if he told her not to.

selfship asks

[nepenthendline]

sylus is a BABY, a dramatic, needy, whiny BABY