#and maybe sometimes luke and kieran

[otomeorangejuice]

Doing Find Tobias with Sylus is so funny cause he's clearly annoyed by Tobias while I'm just over here like why are you threatening to beat up a disabled child 😭

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x fem!reader

contents: fluff and sweetness. pre-relationship. more than friends but less than lovers trope. many shared little moments with sylus that make it special 🤍

⭒ It becomes second nature for Sylus to carry your purse on his shoulder when you both have an outing and he follows you around like an obedient puppy as you shop from one clothing rack to another. Sometimes he gets distracted on his phone whilst glancing up at you every now and then that he doesn’t realize you both are in the men’s section. A rather adorable pondering expression on your face as you hold a shirt up to his chest. “I think this would suit you nicely.” No second opinion is needed and he collects the item from you for purchasing because if you say so then he believes it.

⭒ When Sylus somehow finds himself a passenger because maybe you wanted to test drive his car that easily has 1600hp—he’s thoroughly amused as you feel out the dynamics of the vehicle. More so when you accidentally step on the brakes a little too hard, as you are unfamiliar with the sensitivity of the pedals. In a show of panic, you throw your arm across his chest to brace for the sudden jolt which earns you a teasing remark followed by a playful quip back at him. However, there’s a subtle smile on his lips as you continue down the road because your first instinct is to save him.

⭒ You and Sylus have a casual routine with Friday nights being reserved for the both of you. When you’d normally grab takeout during the busy working week, you opt for a simple home-cooked meal to unwind and enjoy a leisurely evening. Before you can even register the force of habit, you’re pulling out two plates to set the table and like clockwork Sylus appears at your apartment door. A little bag of your favorite pastries to finish off the meal with something sweet because he learned you couldn’t go without it. Funny how he knows these things about you, and how you knew to grab his favorite cheese pancakes on the way home for appetizers.

⭒ The crow twins deliver you something on behalf of Sylus and he receives a little treat from you every other time this happens. You’d pack a small box of savory/sweet baked goods that you made earlier in the day to return his thoughtful gesture. However, at your words Luke and Kieran assumed a surprise wouldn’t be missed if their boss doesn’t know about it. Fast forward to those two apologetic boys surrounded by a swirling red and kneeling before their boss under his menacing stare because those cream puffs should've been handed to him directly. After hearing about this, you made certain to pack enough for the three of them next time.

⭒ Napping at someone else’s home other than your own feels like uncharted territory because sleeping anywhere but your warm and familiar bed places you in a vulnerable position. Even though Sylus has given you permission to make yourself comfortable at his estate several times, the safest place you feel is beside him with your head lulling against his shoulder when you’re running on a few hours of sleep. He’s the picture of comfort with a fleeting kiss to your head and draping his coat over you, and he may even find his cheek pressed against you to catch some shut-eye himself.

⭒ There’s something to be said about Sylus being led by you—he secretly loves surrendering himself to your every whim and that includes you tugging him by the hand and steering him toward the direction of cute ducklings paddle their way into the waters with a splash. Your elated reaction and innocent sparkle is all very endearing to him and he takes a moment to savor it before shifting his gaze to the small animals. “Now, aren’t you glad we decided to have this stroll after all?” You offer him your response and his heart warms when he realizes that you still haven’t let go of his hand.

[mangooes]

Skincare or skinship?

Sylus rarely—if ever—bothered with skincare. His flawless looks were more of a lucky genetic blessing than any dedicated routine. But tonight? Tonight, he found himself dragged by his little kitten. Sitting on the edge of their shared bathtub, robe slightly undone showing his bare chest, while his wife happily pampered him.

"Alright, stay still," She instructed, dipping her fingers into a cooling facial mask and spreading it evenly across his face.

Sylus sighed dramatically, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he smirked. "Sweetie, if you wanted to touch me this much, you could've just said so."

She flicked his forehead. "Hush. Let me take care of you for once."

He chuckled but remained still, watching her with amused affection as she worked, her brows furrowed in concentration.

After smoothing the mask over his face, She suddenly grinned and plucked two cucumber slices from the bowl beside her.

"Here—" She playfully slaps the cucumber on other areas of his face and gently pressed them onto his closed eyes.

Sylus huffed a laugh his hand sneakly reaching for her fingers. "Naughty kitten....hmm, what is this for?"

"It's for your eye bags, Big Boss Onychinus," she teased. "Even you need to unwind sometimes."

Sylus chuckled again, though he let her do whatever she wanted. When she started massaging his shoulders, his smirk faded into a genuine sigh of pleasure.

"Your armworks are divine sweetie, Mmm... maybe I should let you do this more often," he murmured.

She grinned triumphantly. "Told you."

After a few more minutes, she clapped her hands together. "Alright! Now it's your turn to do it, Sysy!"

Sylus raised a brow. "Me?"

"Yes, you," she said, standing up and gesturing to the stool in front of the vanity mirror. "Time to return the favor."

Her hand tapping his chin teasingly, "Or if you don't want to I'll just ask Luke and Kieran to help— "

Sylus chuckled as he scooped her up effortlessly before she could finish her sentence, carrying her to sit on the stool of the bathroom.

"As you wish, princess."

She giggled, watching as he picked up the facial mask with an adorably focused expression. "Hmm... like this?" he asked, plucking the product from its container.

She nodded, laughing as he carefully—though clumsily—spread it across her face. His hands were large and warm, his touch oddly gentle despite his usual strength.

"Husband, you're surprisingly good at this," she teased.

Sylus smirked. "I'm good at many things, my sweet little wife."

He finished the face mask with a smug grin and wiped his hands. "Now, let's complete it." He reached for the last two cucumber slices and carefully placed them over her eyes.

She giggled in respond, sensing his satisfaction. "Are you admiring your work?"

"Of course," he said smoothly. "You look adorable."

With the mask still on his own face, Sylus leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

She squeaked, laughing, pushing his chest. "You're gonna smudge the masks!"

Sylus chuckled. "And? Who cares? We can just apply it again."

She sighed, laughing. "You're impossible."

"Only for you, sweetie."

"...How flattering," she teased.

Sylus tilted her chin up, pulling her closer to his thighs, his crimson eyes darkened with something deeper than mischief—something raw and unguarded. His lips hovered just above hers, his breath warm as his hands held her close.

"Then let me show you how much I love you, my little spa princess."

Before she could tease him back, his lips captured hers in a slow, passionate kiss. Gently closing the gap between them, lovestruck eyes, the scent of love, desire filled him.

When they finally pulled apart, leaving puffs of breathes. Sylus didn’t move far. His gaze softened, filled with an emotion so intense it made her heart race.

She blinked up at him, then tilted her head with a teasing clueless smile. Arms crossed over her chest, in a pouty manner

"Why are you staring at me like that? Is my face mask all smudged because of you?"

Sylus let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he gently cupped her face. "No… I was admiring you."

She giggled, nudging his chest playfully, accusing him. "What, do I look like a work of art or something?"

He smirked, the corners of his mouth curling upwards slightly, amused. His one hand slid down from her cheek, fingertips grazing over her wrist until he reached her left hand. Slowly, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against her knuckles—right where her wedding ring rested.

"Well…" Sylus murmured, his voice quiet yet filled with devotion. "If you were also an art piece…" He trailed off, rubbing his thumb over the metal band.

She felt her breath hitch, watching him with wide eyes.

His lips curved into a softer smile as he whispered, "Then whoever created you must have loved you dearly."

Her heart clenched at his words. The way he said it—like she was the most precious thing in existence—made her heart do backflips, a warm fire bloom deep inside her chest.

For once, she was speechless.

Instead of answering, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. Sylus chuckled, his grip tightening as he nuzzled into her hair.

"What, no retorts? speechless, kitten?" he teased.

She scoffed, her voice muffled against his skin. "Shut up."

His laughter was deep, but the way he held her—so close, so tight—told her everything she needed to know.

"I love you, Sylus."

She said, her face still buried into his shoulder, the man in respond huffs, nuzzling from her hair to her neck, giving it a quick kiss, a satified hum.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

And just like that, their supposed ‘skincare night’ turned into a tiny make out session...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A pair of twin walked side by side down the dimly lit hallway, their footsteps echoing against the sleek marble floors. Kieran idly twirled a dagger between his fingers while Luke scrolled through his tablet, eyes scanning the details of a business deal.

"Alright, so this client’s been getting impatient. Wants to talk to Boss directly," Luke muttered.

Kieran sighed, slipping his dagger back into its holster. "Figures. You know how he is—doesn’t trust anyone but himself when it comes to negotiations."

"Yeah, well, let’s just grab him real quick and—" Luke paused, stopping just a few feet away from the master bedroom’s door.

Kieran arched a brow. "What?"

Luke lifted a hand, signaling him to be quiet. From behind the door, soft laughter spilled into the hallway. It wasn’t just the missus's playful giggles—it was Sylus’s low, amused chuckles.

They listened for a moment.

“Sysy! Your hands are freezing!” came her voice, filled with laughter.

"Mm? Then warm me up, kitten," Sylus drawled, his voice rich with amusement.

"You're impossible," she groaned. "And you're getting face mask all over me!"

Sylus let out a low chuckle. "I thought you wanted me to indulge in skincare with you. Now, take responsibility, sweetie."

There was another bout of laughter, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a playful struggle.

Luke and Kieran exchanged looks. Kieran’s lips twitched, barely holding back a grin. "Yeah, uh… Boss seems preoccupied."

Luke let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "Forget it. We’re handling this client ourselves."

"Smart choice." Kieran smirked.

Just then, Mephisto, perched nearby on a hallway lamp, let out a knowing caw. The mechanical bird flapped its wings once, as if in agreement.

Luke crossed his arms. "See? Even the bird thinks we shouldn’t bother him, he has probably seen worse."

Kieran snickered. "Besides, it’s rare for Boss to actually relax. Let’s not ruin the moment."

With that, the twins turned on their heels and walked off, leaving their infamous criminal boss to enjoy his well-earned time with his wife.

THE NEW HEARTFELT CARD MADE ME DO THIS, I LOVE U INFOLD WE LOVE SOFT SYLUS IM GONNA DIEE GOODBYE WORLD, i wrote this just five minutes after that goddamn card trailer was released

[always-just-red]

Oh I forgot to add 😭😭😭 be it fluff like jelly sylus but fluff maybe he trying to make the mc jelly too ? I’m going wild with ideas, I will be quiet

(Part 1 of ask) FINALLY finished this fic oh my goshhh I've loved it so much but writer's block was my constant companion for this one 🫠 Thanks for your patience!! Sy is jealous but I'm still pushing my 'Sylus is the softest man alive and would die before hurting MC' agenda, so I had to get a lil creative! Hope I've pulled it off idk 😭😭

Be Mine

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)

Genre: lil bit of angst, comfort and fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, jealousy, other LIs mentioned, brief allusion to Raf's self-harm tendencies, cheating mentioned, some intimacy & kisses-- more soft than spicy!

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus has spent centuries waiting for you, so he’s going to give you another minute.

Patience is not a virtue; it’s an old acquaintance he greets with a false smile whenever he’s forced to pass it on the street. Sometimes outside your building, whilst you’re chatting with a neighbour from the apartment above yours. Sometimes when you’re running late from a doctor’s appointment.

Patience has been cropping up a lot these days and gods, he’s sick of its face. Even now, it sits with him at this table for two as he sips at a glass that’s almost empty. There’s poetry in stalling, in savouring what’s left, especially as a waiter hovers anxiously nearby, anticipating the need for yet another refill (it would be the third).

Dregs of blood-red wine swirl with solemnity. Sylus is a patient man, a man who waits, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants the reward of it: the pot of gold at the end of that insipid rainbow. Hasn’t he waited enough?

He lifts his drink to his lips again.

“Sylus!”

They curve as he swallows the final drop.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, flinging yourself into the seat across from him so quickly that he’s cheated of the chance to rise and help you with your chair. “Sit back down,” you usher, because he had made a start on it, “really, Sy, I’m so, so sorry. Things at work just got crazy, and I—”

“You don’t have to explain, sweetie,” he smiles as he signals the waiter. He’ll have that refill, now, and he orders your favourite drink as you shrug off your coat and fumble with your bag, looking for something. “I’m more than familiar with the Association’s… dedication to a cause.”

You glance up with an amused smile. “We’re keeping you on your toes, huh?”

“Mmm. There is one hunter who’s proving to be a real thorn in my side.”

“You on top of that?”

“Most evenings, yes. Some mornings, too.”

You poke your tongue out at him. You’ve retrieved a compact mirror and you use it to study your dishevelled reflection. “Is everything all right at work?” he asks as you fuss over your hair.

“Yeah,” you puff. “Long story.”

“We have time.”

With a warmer smile, you stash your mirror away and sequester your bag by your feet. “You sure?” He gives you a look. “Fine,” you chuckle. “Basically, Xavier forgot to write up some reports. He’s been away on an ultra-secret, special mission or whatever—” you tap your nose conspiratorially— “which I didn’t just tell you, okay? But yeah, the reports weren’t done, and they were due tonight, so…”

Sylus raises an apathetic eyebrow. “He asked you to help?”

“Begged me, more like.”

Of course he did. The waiter arrives with your drinks and Sylus has never been gladder for a distraction. His mouth is full of pettiness, bitterness, so he drowns it with wine. You could have called. Texted. “So kitten’s been playing secretary, hmm?” he goads instead.

“That would imply kitten could keep track of time,” you pout, “so no. And speaking of playing a part—” you poke his nose— “you’re allowed to be mad at me. I should have called you. Texted. So let me have it, yeah? I feel bad enough already without you being all… perfect.”

You’re only teasing, but Sylus doesn’t feel perfect. He’s thinking about you working late with your partner, laughing at his jokes, poking him with your pen to keep him from falling asleep on his paperwork. He smirks, regardless. “What if I want you to feel bad?”

“Oh, gods,” you slump forwards, face-down on the table. “How long were you waiting?”

“Years.”

You fake cry into the tablecloth. “Don’t, Sy. Just tell me the truth. How bad was it?”

“Really, years,” he insists again, folding his arms on the table and sliding forwards, too. His chin is resting on his hands, and he blows at the top of your head. “Look.” Your face lifts so you can peer at him. He pinches his hair. “I’ve even gone grey, see?”

You sit up the tiniest bit more and your noses are almost brushing. “It looks nice,” you whisper.

“You think so?”

“Mmm. Suits you.”

Your eyes are every gem— every jewel in an illicit auction Sylus has to steal away from the rest of the world, because something that pretty just has to be his; it will find no worthier home than his hands. His devotion fills vaults. Aren’t they spilling with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds— those reckless imitations of your gaze? No-one else could deserve them, adore them like he does.

And they’ve nothing on the real thing.

Someone clears their throat and Sylus tracks the noise begrudgingly. The anxious waiter is back, clutching menus this time. You sit up fully, laughing to break the tension, and sure enough, Sylus feels less like hurling the man through the nearest window.

He’s still thinking about it though. He tells the waiter as much with a smile, and the menus are passed over with shaking hands. When Sylus says, “thank you,” it sounds like a bomb, ticking.

“Play nice,” you tut, once the waiter’s cleared the blast radius.

“Sweetie, when do I ever not play nice?”

You blink back at him disbelievingly. This should be good. “How about the time that you—?”

A familiar ringtone interrupts you, and your eyes widen in apology as you grab at your bag, rifling around for your phone. You find it— check the call and decline it— but relief is hiding, refusing to set foot on stage. Not yet, it confers to Sylus darkly, because it knows what comes next.

“Do you need to…?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, it was just Rafayel. Thanks, though.” You set the phone down. “Where was I?”

“You were about to tell me what a terribly bad man I am, sweetie.”

“Right!” you giggle. No, not yet. “So how about the time that you…” The phone rings again. You check it. Decline it. “How about the time that you—ugh!” It’s ringing again.

Sylus taps a finger on the table, impatiently patient. You can’t mute the wretched thing: the next call you miss would be a Wanderer, tearing through an orphanage or the like. It’s the reason you check, even when there’re no orphans at stake— just a pest of an artist with too much time on his hands.

Except… “Oh,” you say, glancing downwards, “it’s Zayne. I should probably—” Sylus gives a half-smile of blessing, but you weren’t waiting around for it— “hey, Zayne! I can’t talk right now, unless— Raf? What the hell? How did you get Zayne’s phone?”

You pull yours away from your ear as a string of whines come through:

“— ignore my calls, don’t even text me to ask what’s up, and then pick up his call right away? You hate me, right? Just say that you hate me, cutie.”

“I don’t hate you, Raf.” The phone is back to your ear. “I’m busy. Now seriously, how did you get— oh, hi, Zayne. Why is Raf…?” Sylus can hear a deeper voice answering your questions. “He’s at the—? Shit, is he okay? Ugh, tell him I can hear him. Tell him I know he’s not dying.”

You meet Sylus’s eyes as conflict erupts on the other end of the call. Sorry, you mouth as static filters through, interspersed with broken words and curses. The doctor’s voice prevails. “Yeah, Zayne,” you speak back to it. “I’ll call Thomas, get him to pick him up. Mmhmm? Oh!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I forgot, he’s at that stupid art thing. Look, maybe later, I can…”

The artist’s shrill tone is protesting.

“I know it’s my job, Raf!” you counter. “But gimme a break, please. If it was any other night, you know I’d be there. Of course I wanna be there! But I can’t—”

It’s just a slip of the tongue— words you don’t even realise you’re saying— but Sylus still feels his heart sink. He hates it. A heart is so difficult to argue with: it’s long gone before you can talk any sense into it. He stands from the table, those priceless eyes of yours pursuing him. When you tilt your head, he musters a smile, then a weak excuse: “I’m just stepping outside for a moment.”

You nod, a follow-up question on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a voice in your ear again— two voices— and you’re you, so of course you listen.

…

Sylus waits on a bench outside the restaurant, closing his eyes as he waits for his heart to come back.

It’s only been a few minutes. He’s thinking about your eyes, your nose and lips— an inch from his— and how he should have closed that gap before it grew treacherous. Shouldn’t he be done with this? This… longing? You’re his. You’ve told him you’re his, over and over again, but he finds himself needing to hear it once more; the ghost of your voice is starting to lack persuasion.

He is yours without exception, but you? There’s always a caveat. I’m yours, Sylus. But only so long as the city is quiet. I’m yours, Sylus. Until someone else calls. The door to the restaurant opens— he can hear it— but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to pretend.

I’m yours, Sylus. No caveats. No exceptions.

“Sylus.”

He swallows the dread in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” you entreat softly. His eyes open, and you’re wearing your coat, holding your bag. “I have to run to the hospital— it’s this whole thing. Raf, like, passed out or something. He’s not been eating again. Zayne said when something like this keeps happening, it’s a sign that… yeah. He just… needs someone. And he hasn’t got anyone else, you know?”

“I understand.” You’re worried about your friend. That’s all it is.

Why can’t he believe that’s all it is?  

You come over and sink down on the bench beside him, looping your arm through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t you know that he’s afraid? That a selfish, spiteful part of him wants to hide you— with the rest of his treasures— away from the light, so he can love you in the dark?

There’s a sigh as you lean against him, savouring his touch like the wine one swirls in a glass when their thoughts are elsewhere. It’s gone in a mouthful; you check your watch, and he hopes it’s bitter.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

No, he would rather be sweet for you, but look at you— making him lie. “I’m okay,” he says, and it doesn’t have a drop of conviction. He’s tired of philanthropy.

…

“What are you gonna do? Come on, tell us. Tell us! What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Luke. Give me a second, okay? Jeez.”

You literally just got here. Your pace is brisk and the night air still clings to you— you shed a layer of it by peeling your arms out of your coat. Luke and Kieran are close behind, keeping to your heels like terriers hoping you’ll trip with a plateful of food. They’ll take even a crumb at this point.

“You gonna fight him?” Kieran nudges, but your lips stay tight.

“Oh, you’re so gonna fight him,” Luke takes away from the silence.

You don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve reached a decadent lounge, lavished with black and gold, and you throw your coat over the arm of a chair before starting to wrestle off your combat boots. You’ve been off work for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. One call-to-duty after another; first the hospital, now this.

Mephisto caws in greeting from a nearby perch. “I’m not gonna fight him,” you say as your second boot drops with a clunk. “I just need to—”

“Say no more,” Luke cuts you off. “We want in.”

With a tired sigh, you gaze up at the twins at last. Kieran is readying a fist: punching his hand softly, the beak of his mask low and threatening. Beside him, Luke swings a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn’t have it a second ago. Where did he even—?

You put your hands on your hips. “You guys got a death wish or something?”

“Yes!” they enthuse together, nodding excitedly.

You haven’t got time to ask. Your focus drifts to Sylus’s bedroom door, where music is leaking with honeylike light. You can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen over that threshold, exhausted— always slightly broken. You want to crawl into cool silk sheets and a warmer embrace, but there’s one small problem.

The text that had brought you here, anxious and out of breath:

Boss is with someone.

“What’re you thinking?”

You’re closer to the door, now, and Luke’s whisper makes you jump. You spin, twisting the bat from his fingers and pushing him back until the tip is pressed to his throat. “Get back,” you hiss, before levelling the weapon at an encroaching Kieran, “both of you.”

Luke leaps behind his brother— swinging him between you for protection. The baseball bat stays hovering, and Luke peeks over Kieran’s shoulder, swatting at it like an indignant kitten.

“Stop it,” you scold, poking back at his hand and his masked face. “Begone!”

“Yes, boss!” Kieran goes to move, but Luke is holding him in place. He’s dragged backwards: a human shield until they can both scurry around the turn of a corridor.

You smile fondly. You forget, for just a moment, that you’re alone and full of uncertainty. The song in the next room lulls, at its inevitable end, and then you can’t forget. You’re stood in silence, staring at a door you’ve never had to knock before. Another song starts up.

Whatever this is, you can handle it.

You use the baseball bat to tap against the dark wood. “Sylus?” you call.

He makes you wait. You can hear him, moving around— unmistakably taking his time— but you don’t mind. You’re running scenarios through your head. Is he in on this, too? Or…?

He opens the door and oh, he definitely is. His silk robe hangs haphazardly over his figure, one side threatening to slip from his shoulder and the belt dangerously loose at the middle. A flush is tinting his face, spreading down through his neck, past his collarbone and lower, you think, but you’re trying not to look.

“Sweetie,” he purrs in the way that tells you he’s up to no good, “what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes flit downwards. “And you’re armed, too.”

There’s a breathlessness to the observation, and your ability to breathe briefly eludes you as well. His hair is damp and unkempt, his skin warm, his gaze hot. Is this a test? It feels like a test.

“Are you alone?” you snap, because he’s clearly put some thought into whatever it is, and you’re a good sport, so you’ll play along.

“No,” he says, but then: “You know you’re always with me in spirit, kitten. Even if not in—” another downwards glance— “body.”

“Sylus.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” You catch his chin with your free hand, forcing his gaze back to your face. “And I want a real answer.” He swallows thickly. “Are you alone?”

His submission is fragile. He lifts his hand, wraps his fingers around your wrist like a reminder of the fact. “Careful, sweetie.” His grip tightens as his voice drops. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“I know what I’m asking.” You snatch your hand free and step closer. “Get out of my way.”

Sylus narrows his eyes, but soon relaxes. He sweeps a hand through his hair, chuckling as he obeys— moving aside to let you past. You storm through, looking over every visible inch of his room. There’s nothing to see, of course. No clothes that aren’t yours pooled over the floor. No lover wrapped up in his bedsheets.

“Just what exactly are you looking for?” he asks smugly behind you.

“Save it, Sylus.” Your pretend patience is gone. “The twins told me everything.”

So you start searching more strenuously. You make your way over to his bed, baseball bat slung over your shoulder as you check behind the far side— even stooping to peek under it. You open the wardrobe. Nothing. Use the baseball bat to push back the curtains, letting in more blood-red moonlight. Nothing. You huff in frustration.

“You know, don’t you?” Sylus says quietly.

He’s leant against the doorway, arms crossed, and you spare him a glance. “Know what?”  

“That there’s no-one here.”

It sounds like defeat. “I’m taking this very seriously, actually,” you dismiss as you roll open the drawer of his bedside table, where no-one is hiding. You move on to even more absurd places: lifting flowers out of their vase to glance about inside it, peering into the horn of his vintage gramophone.

You’d hoped your antics would elicit at least a short laugh, or a scoff of amusement. There’s nothing, though, so you plonk onto the bed— defeated, yourself— and look to the man as you set your weapon down.

He looks back with an insincere smile. “How did you know?”

“That you weren’t really with someone? Because you’re you, Sylus. The key to a good prank?” Your fingers twinkle in the air beside your head. “Believability. Besides—” now a forefinger taps at your temple— “nothing gets past this.”

“Your ego?” he guesses with a smirk that is sincere, if nothing else.

“My brain, Sy.”

“Ah.”

Your ego— tsk. Your feet are dangling from the bed, playing with a slipper they’ve fished out from underneath it, and you have half a mind to launch it at him. This doesn’t feel like one of your usual games, though, and you’ve had a whole ride through the N109 Zone to figure out why.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” you speak like a confession, staring down at the floor so you don’t have to meet his eyes. “That’s what all this is about, right? You wanted to get back at me for dinner?”

“No, I—”

“I get it.” Your feet find the second slipper. “I do. I mean, it was a really shitty thing to do— walking out on you like that. Especially after you waited for me. You went to all that effort, and I— ah.” You’ve toed one of the slippers out of reach.

“Allow me,” comes a voice that’s suddenly close. Sylus’s figure looms over you before he’s crouching, kneeling by your feet. He still looks like a mess of sin, but he’s gentle as he retrieves the slipper for you. Removes your socks for you. Slides a slipper onto each of your cold feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters.

You let out a sigh. “Sylus.” You’re scolding him, and he gazes up at you, his eyes garnets of adoration only you could afford. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“So why won’t you tell me how you feel?”

He sits back on his knees, his thumb drawing circles on the inside of your ankle. The ministrations are mindless, and so are his words: “How I feel is not important.”

“Of course it is!” You pull away from him. “Don’t say things like that.”

“But I thought I could tell you anything, kitten.”

It’s a nick from a blade that could do much worse; he wants you to feel how sharp it is. His smile is a warning and he’s waiting for the hunter in you to strike back, because violence is what you’re good at. What you’re both good at. It hurts, but it’s easy.

You shift forward on the bed. “Sylus… you don’t need to protect me. Not from you. Not from anything you feel. I want you to be happy, to tell me if you’re unhappy. I don’t need you to—” your fingers skirt over his chest and you falter inexplicably— “to sacrifice yourself for me.”

Sylus looks down to where you’re tracing the shape of his heart on his skin. He lets out a long, beleaguered breath, then leans closer to you, his head turning away as he settles it on your lap. Your hands find his hair instinctually, threading through it in slow, meandering motions.

“I want you to be mine,” he admits on another sigh.

He can’t see you smile, but he’ll hear it in your voice: “I am yours, Sy—”

“No— just mine.”

He won’t make it a demand. Even asking you nicely has him breathless and still, like the drawn-out pause of a finished symphony. Your hands stop moving, out of respect for the quiet. You’re remembering the times you’ve been late out of your building because you’d stumbled into Xavier in the lobby. The doctor’s appointments that always overrun, and Rafayel’s ‘emergency’ phone calls.

“Come and sit with me,” you mumble, patting the bed beside you.

When Sylus does, it’s with the same reluctance a cat surrenders a sliver of sun. Lazy and listless— still warm from the light. The bed sinks under his weight and you turn to face him. His robe’s collar has fallen further, so you hook a finger under it to draw it back up to his neck. Then you straighten the lapels, smoothing them over distractedly.

He’s watching your face, not the movements of your hands. Your cheeks feel warm. “I was speaking to Rafayel earlier, and we—”

A groan, and Sylus is no longer at your fingertips; he’s flopped down backwards on the bed, his hand over his face. You can’t help giggling— you’ve broken the big, bad boss of Onychinus, it seems. Is that all it takes? You grin as you lie down with him, settling on your side, propped up on an elbow. He doesn’t stir when you fix a few stray strands of his hair.

“We talked about boundaries,” you continue. “How I can’t be on call twenty-four seven, and how he’s going to take better care of himself, so I don’t have to be.”

Sylus has moved his hand, ever so slightly.

There’s more: “I’m gonna call in sick to work tomorrow. I made a deal with Xavier, that’s why I stayed late today. He’ll cover for me.” You shift closer. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I know I can’t always be with you, but I am always thinking of you, I promise. You’re always with me in spirit, Sy, even if not in—” you press a quick kiss to his chest— “body.”

He chuckles at the words, or maybe the touch tickled.

You grin down at him. “I’m yours. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“No! Ugh, just—” Smart-ass! You flick his forehead as he laughs quietly. “Not the words ‘I’m yours’, say that I’m—”

His hand is at your face, pulling you in so he can kiss you. It’s slow and it’s patient; he’s taking his time, and you won’t slip away. You can feel his smile. “You’re mine,” he murmurs when he finally withdraws. One more kiss, lighter, on the tip of your nose. “Just mine.”

Always. You let him pull you into an embrace, snuggling into his warmth like you’ve been wanting to from the moment you last left it. You can hear his heartbeat beneath the lullaby of his breath. “Sy?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“You look really hot when you’re pretending to cheat on me.”

He scoffs, but a yawn comes before his response. “Don’t get any ideas, kitten.”

Your quiet is pensive. “I have this lunch with Zayne later this week. I really should text him to find out—”

The grip around you constricts, and a voice is in your ear, soft and possessive:

“What did I just say?”

[plutotheplum]

Genuinely obsessed with your MMA fighter Sylus au, their dynamic was soooo good and now I have a million questions. Was he smitten since he met her? Did he have to watch her go on dates? God that man jealous would end me. You’re so talented thank you for sharing your work aaaaaaa

cw: inappropriate thoughts, masturbation

erm couldn't resist writing this, so here you are <3

Sylus sometimes wishes he knew the passcode to your phone. 

He’d been tempted to let Luke and Kieran steal it and have at it until they managed to unlock it, but that would’ve caused unnecessary problems. The twins were… unreliable, to say the least, but dating apps were even more so. 

Sure, he’d peeked over your shoulder a few times (but to no avail), even grabbed your phone a few times but you’d been so whiny and snapped at him that he couldn’t quite get his thumb to hit the little x on the wiggling app before you were hitting his chest and threatening to stop taping his hands.

What Sylus doesn’t understand is why you keep bringing your less-than-stellar picks of potential boyfriends to his matches. He doesn’t understand why you lean into the arms of another man and laugh so sweetly. Sylus thinks he might see stars in your eyes. It confuses him. 

He is more motivated when you bring a date though. It sets him off, makes his jaw tick and his fists clench. The strength of his punches increase until he loses himself, pummeling his opponent until there’s blood smeared across skin and the irritating sounds of the referee yelling at him fills his ears. 

You chastise him, of course, stand before him with your hands on your hips and brows drawn tight as you scold him. Sylus thinks you look cute when you’re angry. You get whinier too and he wants to see if you’re just as whiny when he sinks his cock into you. The thought makes him zone out, the aches in his muscles forgotten as he imagines taking you here in the locker room, skirt bunched up to your hips and legs wrapped around his waist.

Sylus would fuck you good, he knows that much. He wants to eat you out until you cry then stuff his cock inside of you until you sob and cream on his cock. He wants to spank your ass until it’s raw and reddened to remind you who you belong to. Maybe he’ll even fuck your face and see those pretty eyes peering up at him as you claw at his thighs and hump the air needily. 

He wants to claim you. Sylus thinks you’d look like a vision with his cum splattered all over your body, hips and thighs bruised with the indents of his fingers, ass red, nipples puffy and pussy slick with his cum and spit. 

He can’t do that, not yet anyways. 

What Sylus can do, however, is ward off the men that seem insistent on laying their hands on you. You might protest against it, but it doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you flush against his chest after a match. He’ll even hook his chin over your shoulder and shoot the man you’re with a sharp look, with his red eyes narrowed, if the man looks a little too happy. It works like a charm. 

You’re less than impressed, spewing some nonsense about being his manager and how inappropriate and indecent it is to hug a member of his team like that. Sylus finds a grin works best to shut you up, he knows you like it when he smiles at you, or pets his hand across your waist. You’re a needy, little thing. 

Sylus knows he’s wearing down your stubbornly built walls when he hears the soft hitch of your breath when he brushes past you, or the slight dilation of your pupils when he takes his shirt off after training. 

It doesn’t help that you plague his thoughts when he goes home. Sylus can hardly get through watching a shitty film before he’s imagining your face, cock hardening in his shorts. It has a sigh leaving him, hips bucking as his eyes flutter shut and he wraps his hand around his cock. Sylus fucks his hand like it’s your pussy; mumbles out a few, low words of praise under his breath.

“So good for me, baby,” he mutters, eyes squeezing shut tighter to see the image of you solidifying behind his shut eyelids.

Sylus knows your pussy will struggle to take him in. His cock is fat and girthy and you’d probably whimper and slur, claw at the bedsheets as he pushed his cock into you. “Cute, little pussy’s being stuffed full, sweetie. ‘m gonna cream this little cunt.”

He swears under his breath when he imagines you on your knees for him, cheeks puffed out and lips glistening with his cock stuffed in your mouth. Sylus knows you’d get cock-drunk fast, has seen the little dazed look on your face when he touches you teasingly.

“Good girl,” he grunts, hand stroking faster as he thinks about the swell of your breasts and your head tipping back as he bounces you on his cock, “my good girl.”

Cum spurts from his tip, smearing across his hand and Sylus shudders, letting go of his cock to let it slap against his abdomen weakly. He moans at the thought of you cleaning his cock, your tongue lapping at the head of it sweetly.

Sylus wonders if you do the same, wonders whether you shove your fingers down into your panties and rub your clit until you’re writhing and gasping out of his name. He hopes you do.

Sylus prides himself in being able to stay in control, which is why he decides to wait it out. You’ll give in soon enough, bat your lashes up at him and ask him to fuck you. He just has to wait. 

After all, patience is a virtue.

i don’t think he’d be smitten from the get go, it'd probably take him a bit of time to get used to his feelings.

oh and he definitely gets jealous haha, when he sees you talking/helping other fighters that are training. but he especially hates it when you bring your date along to watch his matches.

[scottiexmariee]

Social Media Headcanons

How I think the boys would be with various social media!

Masterlist

★ let's be real

★ Xav would follow you on everything.

★ he doesn't have an account? he's making one just to follow you and maybe Jeremiah if he's lucky

★ he would absolutely have your post notifications on too, would never admit that out loud though

★ don't worry he's definitely not checking to see who else likes your posts

★ interacts with 99% of your posts

★ would definitely attempt to post a "cute" candid pic of you, but in reality it's blurry as hell and completely mid

★ ^ "but I like that picture..."

★ I do think Xav would have a tiktok, but I think he'd be more of an observer than a poster

❄ aside from the Moments posts, I don't really see Zayne keeping up with a bunch of social media

❄ man is BUSY. I can't realistically imagine him doom scrolling through tiktok or twitter after a torturously long day at the hospital

❄ I REALLY feel like he would think tiktok is overstimulating or something

❄ but he would definitely sit with you like a good boy and watch some if you really wanted to show him something (bro is a closet softie, be fr)

❄ would definitely make occasional posts of you, like he does with the moment posts.

❄ probably dedicates his instagram to scenery pictures

❄ is definitely in your comments with his dry ass humor

♥ most definitely has every single type of social media

♥ twitter, instagram, tiktok, etc. all of it

♥ whether or not he runs the accounts? probably not most of them (ily Thomas)

♥ Raf is funny af, if you've seen the "sound was crisp 10/10" moment post you know what I'm talking about. I just know there'd be a GOLDMINE of similar posts on his personal twitter

♥ can totally see him being dramatic and sending you tiktoks of things he wants to do

♥ for exanple

♥ he sends you a video of a couple at the beach, holding hands and walking by the water

♥ after sending the tiktok, he'd say something like "must be nice"

♥ ^ "Rafayel do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"

♥ ^ "well, I was gunna work on a painting... buuut since you asked so nicely, be here in 10 cutie,"

♦ okay listen

♦ this man would be gassing you up in your instagram comments (personal hype man? oh yes, absolutely)

♦ man also has no problem showing you off, you're def getting posted. bro adores you. immediate hard launch, zero shits given

♦ sometimes he posts vague ass shit on moments that only you (and maybe the twins) would understand, so I definitely see that carrying over to other platforms

♦ imagine him cryptic posting on twitter

♦ ^ "the sky is a little darker than normal today" and he's literally just being petty because you forgot to send a good morning text

♦ as for tiktok, I can absolutely see you having to explain to him wtf a tiktok even is

♦ "Why not just post it on Moments? I don't understand why it needs a whole different platform."

♦ ^ he'd definitely make an account though, simply because you asked

♦ if he posts anything on tiktok at all, it would probably be him using an alloy ammo box as a grill or something (iykyk), or reposting things that you posted

BONUS: Luke & Kieran

-Let's be fr, Luke & Kieran would most definitely be shitposters

-They are funny as HELL

-Brainrot fyp on tiktok = Luke and Kieran

-Their social media would absolutely be chaos but I'm here for it

[salemrph]

"A Hunter's Christmas Hustle" Sylus x MC

Summary: With Christmas around the corner, you’re on a mission to find the perfect gift for everyone, that's included Sylus, a famously tricky person to shop for. You asked for help but can the twins really help you? Sometimes the effort is the best part of the holiday magic.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: holiday comedy, slice-of-life, fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Miss Hunter.

| Word count: 3.916 | Reading Time: 16 min | AO3

A/N: Since this is the first Christmas of Love and Deepspace, at least for me, I'm looking forward for a special Event and have a cute moment between Sylus and MC.

Second part🌲: A Hunter's Christmas Hustle: X-mas morning

You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels a bit strange staying at Sylus’ place on your days off. Well, it was mostly his doing— he’d insist or come up with some random excuse or side mission to make you stay. So, at the end you agree to come visit him without needing to drag you in dirty business. It's cozy here, even if you’re not quite used to it yet.

Like always you scroll through your phone, noticing you getting a lot of Christmas ads. You squint at the screen, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the holiday promotions. Suddenly, you glance at the date on your phone. Fuck! Christmas is in 1 week. And you haven’t prepared anything. Weren’t there also a Party coming up with the team? No, no, no! You go trough the calendar. There is it: 24 of December. Christmas Party with Team.

You need to go shopping, ordering stuff now would only arrive too late. 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to make a mental checklist. “I need a present for Tera, flowers for Grandma’s and Clab’s graves...” You pause, feeling a bit emotional at that thought. You take a deep breath and continue, making a list out loud.

“Then there’s Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel…” Your head starts spinning as you realize just how much you have to do. 

How could you forget? Have you really been that busy lately? It’s not like the whole city isn’t decked out in lights, giant Christmas ads, and festive music playing in every store. 

You realize with a sigh that maybe you’ve been spending way too much time in the N109 Zone, far from the holiday cheer.

“What can I get for the twins...?” you mumble to yourself. Luke and Kieran can be annoying sometimes, but you do like them. Why not bring them a small gift? Then again, you hesitate. If you get something for the twins, Sylus will definitely bother you about it until the end of your days, asking why he didn’t get anything. You're starting to sweat. Maybe he locks you up again in the basement, just for fun. Or worse, he could show up at the Hunters' Association and declare that you are his lover or something. A shiver runs down your spine. This man can be terrifying. 

You know very well how to please your friends and colleagues but Sylus… What do you bring to the man that has everything? 

“Why is he even so fucking rich?” you mutter under your breath, looking around the guest room. The guest room of course has the style of the rest of the mansion. Black. You roll your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration. You flop back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. You need something unique, something meaningful... but what could that be? 

You scroll through your phone frantically, searching for bundles, deals, and last-minute gift ideas. In just an hour, you’ve managed to check off most of your list.

Tera: A relaxing spa voucher—she could use a break.

Zayne: A pack of his favorite macarons, winter edition—he’ll love them.

Xavier: A cozy new sweater—you’ve told him a million times not to fall asleep everywhere. You sigh, picturing him dozing off on some random spot.

Rafayel: A unique shell you found on a mission weeks ago. You haven’t had a chance to give it to him yet, but now’s the perfect time.

Flowers: Ordered, check.

You tap your phone, thinking about the twins, Luke and Kieran. What would they like? You decide on some kind of gadget or toy—they’re like two overgrown kids sometimes, and they’ll appreciate anything they can mess around with.

Another hour passes, and you’re still glued to your phone, opening and closing tabs like a mad person. Your brain is starting to fog up from the overload of gift ideas.

“No... no... lame... oh god, definitely not.” You swipe through a blog about gifts for wealthy people and somehow end up on a page titled “Top 10 Gifts for Your Rich Boyfriend.” Your cheeks go bright red as you skim the list: sexy underwear, romantic getaways, candlelit dinners...

“NO!” You throw your phone onto the bed like it’s on fire, covering your face with your hands. What am I even doing?

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe you could ask Luke and Kieran for help. They’re close to Sylus and probably know more about his preferences than you do. Plus, he did say you could “use” them whenever you wanted. Why not use them as counselors and pack mules?

Since you don`t want Sylus sniffing around you, you think about a small lie. Or maybe just ask without giving information. The same way he always does 

...

"I need Luke & Kieran for an important mission, can you borrow me them?"

Sylus looks up from his desk, his red eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he regards you. 

"Mission? What are you planning, kitten?" Sylus raises an eyebrow at your words.

"Nothing… jus- they will come back in one piece."

He studies you for a moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He seems to be enjoying your vague and cryptic request, and he's clearly intrigued by what you might be up to. 

"…Alright. You can take them for whatever this 'important mission' is. But they better come back in one piece, or I'm holding you responsible, sweetie. And you don't want to pay the price...“ he snaps his fingers. Both appear immediately. As if they had been hiding in the office. 

"Luke, Kieran, the kitten needs you for a... mission. Do as they say. I expect impeccable work."

"Yes, boss!“ They say in unison.

"Let’s go, guys." I lead them out of the office. "See you, Sylus!"

That was easy. Maybe to easy.

He laughs after the door closes. Wondering how you're going to surprise him this time. He's learned to just go with the flow even though he might have the answer to your little secrets. He just smiled, turning back to focus on his paperwork.

“What are we going to do, miss?” Luke asks with a mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes. “I told you, just call me by my name.”

“Are we blowing something up?” Kieran blurts out, making an exaggerated explosion noise with his mouth.

“Or… cleaning up a messy murder scene?” Luke chimes in, smirking.

“Maybe torture someone!” Kieran’s eyes light up, clearly getting way too excited at the thought.

You sigh, regretting this decision already. They’re like two hyperactive hamsters—deadly, but still hamsters.

“No, no, and no!” you say firmly, waving your hands for emphasis.

“Uuuhhh...” They groan in unison, visibly disappointed.

“We have a better mission,” you declare, crossing your arms. “Change into something decent. We’re heading back to Lincoln City.”

Finally, you’ve arrived in the city. It’s strange seeing them without their usual uniforms and masks. Dressed in casual clothes, they look more like model college boys than the deadly assassins they actually are. Most of the girls passing by can’t help but glance their way, clearly debating whether they should approach the handsome twin brothers.

You snort to yourself. Probably they would’ve attracted less attention in their usual assassin gear.

You’re standing in the middle of the bustling shopping district, the holiday decorations casting a festive glow around you. Luke and Kieran are busy taking in the sights, clearly amused by the sudden change of scenery. You clear your throat to get their attention.

“Alright, listen up,” you say, trying to sound authoritative. “The mission is...” They lean in, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Shopping” you declare.

“Shopping?” they repeat in unison, voices filled with disbelief.

Luke looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while Kieran’s expression twists into mock horror.

“Wait, wait,” Kieran says, holding up a hand. “You dragged us all the way out here... for shopping?”

“Yes, and you’re going to help me,” you reply.

Luke smirks, giving you a playful nudge. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with us, Miss?”

You shoot him a glare. “Call me by my name, Luke.”

“Right, right,” he says, grinning.

“I actually need your help for...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Christmas is around the corner, and I wanted to buy Sylus something. I’m not sure what it should be, so...” 

Before you can finish, Luke and Kieran burst into giggle. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, clearly delighted by your admission.

“Oh, so you want to buy our boss a present, huh? That’s pretty cute” Luke teases, smirking.

Kieran nudges him with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “And you’re asking us for help? Luke, maybe she does have a soft spot for boss after all.”

You feel your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Are you two going to help me or not?”

Luke straightens up, placing a hand on his chest with a mock-serious expression. “If you’re serious about buying a gift for the boss, then you’ve definitely come to the right place. We don’t call ourselves his right-hand men for nothing.”

You exhale, feeling a bit relieved now that they seem genuinely eager to help. “I want something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, but that he’d actually like.”

Kieran tilts his head, pretending to think deeply. “Something unexpected, huh? Well, that’s tricky. Sylus pretty much has everything.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you say, feeling a bit helpless. “I was thinking about getting him some records, but he already has so many...”

Luke and Kieran nod in agreement, their expressions thoughtful. 

“It’s a good start. He does love his music. But you don’t want to give him something he already has, right?” Luke asked. 

“How about something more personal?” Kieran suggests, tapping his chin. “Something that shows you put a lot of thought into it. A gift only you could give him.”

You bite your lip, considering it. “Personal... but how?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Luke says, shrugging. “The boss isn’t as complicated as he looks. He’d appreciate anything that comes from you.”

Kieran gives a playful smirk. “You could just wrap yourself up with a bow, and he’d be over the moon.”

“Kieran!” you gasp, your cheeks turning red as you lightly smack his arm. He laughs, dodging away with a wink. 

Luke chuckles but gives you a more genuine smile. “He’s joking—mostly. But seriously, boss isn’t the kind of guy who cares about expensive gifts. He’d value something that reminds him of you, or a shared memory.”

You pause, mulling it over.

Kieran nudges Luke, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes. “Hey, what about that old record shop on the Avenue? They’ve got vintage records you can’t find anywhere else. You could look for a rare one, maybe something with a story behind it.”

Luke nods, his eyes brightening as well. “Yeah, and you could pair it with a handwritten note. Tell him why you picked it. He’d love that.”

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That’s... actually a great idea. Thanks, you two.”

Kieran gives you a thumbs-up. “No problem, but you owe us for this.”

Luke grins. “Yeah, and don’t forget to give us the credit when he’s showering you with kisses later.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

The twins laugh, and the three of you set off down the busy shopping street, feeling a new wave of excitement. Maybe this gift hunt wasn’t going to be so impossible after all.

In the end, you managed to buy everything for your friends—even for Captain Jenna, who isn’t exactly easy to shop for. But as you wandered through the record store, flipping through album after album, nothing stood out. Everything felt generic, impersonal. And you know Sylus well enough to realize that giving him something half-hearted would just fuel his endless teasing for weeks. 

By the end of the day, the twins delivered you at home after treating them for dinner. You're tired and leave all your bags in the living room of your apartment. You throw yourself down on the couch and take out your phone. Maybe you were overthinking this. A nice accessory or a bottle of whiskey could work—he has a taste for the finer things, after all. It wouldn’t be anything cheap, either; you can afford something like that with your Hunter salary.

The day passes, only 2 days for Christmas and you still have nothing. 

Desperate for ideas, you even tried bringing it up with Tera over lunch. That turned into a chaotic disaster, though. It was exhausting dodging her barrage of questions:

“Who’s the gift for? Why are you even so worried? Wait, do you have a new boyfriend? I demand to meet him!”

You had to laugh it off, making up half-baked excuses until she finally dropped it—though you could tell she didn’t believe you.

And then there was Sylus himself. Yesterday, he sent you an invitation to a Christmas dinner. You wanted to say yes, but you had already committed to the Hunters’ Association Christmas party that same night. You tried to decline, but after some back-and-forth, you reluctantly agreed to meet him afterward.

Now, sitting alone on the couch, you can’t help but replay that conversation in your mind. The way his voice softened when you said you couldn’t make it, the slight pause before he insisted on seeing you later anyway—it made your chest tighten. He sounded almost... disappointed. And that’s what makes you want to find something truly meaningful, something that will show him how much he means to you without you having to say it out loud.

You look at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. You’re running out of time. If you’re going to surprise him with something from the heart, you need to figure it out now.

With a new sense of determination, you push yourself off the couch and grab your coat. Maybe you won’t find the perfect gift sitting around here. It’s time to get back out there and keep looking, because if there’s one person you want to make smile this Christmas, it’s Sylus. But be honest, you´re not going to admit that. Not yet. 

...

It’s Christmas! The party with your unit is small but cozy. The space is filled with the warm glow of twinkling lights, the scent of spiced wine, and the sound of laughter echoing off the walls. You drink, you eat, and you feel a rare sense of contentment as you watch everyone enjoying the night. It’s moments like these that remind you why you love this chaotic, ragtag team.

The gifts you bought last minute seem to have gone over well. Captain Jenna grinned when she unwrapped the sleek new knife you picked out for her—a practical gift, just like she’d like it. Xavier looked genuinely pleased with the soft, oversized sweater you chose, already pulling it on and joking about how he wouldn’t fall asleep everywhere now. Tera hugged you tight, eyes sparkling as she held up the spa voucher. “You really do know me,” she said with a teasing smile.

Earlier in the morning, you made a quick stop by the hospital to drop off the bag of special winter-edition macarons for Zayne. And you place the flower on the graveyard. Pray for them and wishing that you could spent one more day with them.

You glance at your watch. It’s getting late, and you promised Sylus you’d meet him after this. You take a deep breath, excusing yourself quietly from the party. Tera shoots you a knowing look as you head for the door, but she doesn’t say anything—just gives you a little wave, as if to say, good luck. 

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, clutching the gift in your hand as you start walking. There’s a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside you.

Suddenly your watch vibrates urgently and flashes a warning: MetaFlux Fluctuation Detected. Your heart skips a beat. A Wanderer? Now?! You glance around, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The distant sound of a woman’s scream breaks the silence, and without hesitation, you sprint in the direction of the noise, already reaching for your weapon. 

The first Wanderer lunges out from the shadows, its distorted form shifting and writhing in the dim light. You don’t waste a second. One precise shot, and it disintegrates into a cloud of shimmering dust.

„My child! Where is he?“ the woman cries out, panic in her voice. You look around fast, this is not over. 

„Mom!! Help!“ You hear the voice of the kid nearby and run over. You bolt towards the sound, pushing your legs harder. You reach the boy just in time, shielding him with your body as another Wanderer lunges forward. The creature’s claws slice through the air, narrowly missing you. You fire three quick shots, each one hitting its mark. The Wanderer lets out a guttural screech before it vanishes into thin air, dissolving into the night.

"Are you okay?“ you ask, your voice softer now, concerned. The boy nodded. His mother rushes over, wrapping her arms around him and thanking you over and over, her voice thick with emotion.

The mother and child thank you from the bottom of their hearts before leaving. You tell them to please stop by the hospital, just in case. You wave goodbye to the boy. Sigh. What a night!

"Where's my bag?" you mutter, scanning the area. You spot it lying on the ground, right where you dropped it before sprinting into action. Relief floods through you—until you notice the dark, wet stain spreading across the fabric. 

"No, no, no! Please no," you whisper, crouching down and unzipping the bag with trembling hands. The bottle of whiskey you were hunting down the last two days. Is shattered in thousand pieces.

Your heart sinks. This wasn’t just any whiskey—it was a rare, vintage bottle from a small distillery he’d mentioned once, in passing, when he thought you weren’t listening.

„Fuck!" 

You stand up, clutching the soaked bag, and check the time on your watch.

22:30.

You’re supposed to meet Sylus in half an hour, and you’re still a good fifteen minutes away from his place. Panic bubbles up inside you. Maybe you can find a late-night shop that carries something similar. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.

"I can make it," you say aloud, more to convince yourself than anything.

…

You finally arrive at the meeting point—a lookout near the water. It’s the same place where you spent last winter with him, watching the fireworks together.

“Kitten, you told me you were at a party, not a battlefield. What happened?”

“Eh?”

You’ve been running around for the last 30 minutes trying to find that stupid bottle and make it on time to meet Sylus. A little embarrassed, you attempt to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. Your cheeks are flushed from the effort. Sylus stands there in his black coat, looking amazing as always. Your heart beats hard in your chest. He watches you, trying to piece together what happened, and then a smile tugs at his lips.

“Even on days like this, you don’t get a break, Miss Hunter?” He runs his hand gently across your face. You flinch slightly, wincing in pain. “You’ve got a small cut. So... are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, just a Wanderer. It will heal,” you say with a shrug. He sighs softly.

“Careless as usual.” He pulls a small band-aid from his pocket. “Stay still.”

“Why do you have something like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It so happens that I have a kitten who never pays attention to their injuries,” he teases.

You make an exaggerated offended grimace, but inside, it feels like a small gesture of affection. He places the band-aid gently over the cut.

“I’ll consider this your Christmas gift,” you joke.

He laughs. “Oh no, sweetie, that wouldn’t be enough. But I’m impressed with your minimalist idea of happiness.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope.

“You didn’t have...”

“Open it up. And thank me later.”

You take the envelope cautiously, slowly peeling it open. Could it explode? You shake your head at the silly thought. When you finally look inside, your eyes widen, and you let out a soft squeal of excitement.

“Are you for real? This tickets has been sold out for months. How did you…?”

“I have my ways, sweetie,” he replies with a smug smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

“It’s always a pleasure making you happy.”

But your excitement fades quickly as the realization sinks in. He’s managed to make you immensely happy again, while you stand here empty-handed. You have been looking for the perfect gift and you have screwed up at the last minute. On top, you haven't found a replacement for the bottle. 

"I wanted to give you something too for Christmas...“ you started. Closing the envelope and putting it in your pocket. "but... it broke while I was protecting a kid from a Wanderer.“ You look down at your feet, feeling small and pathetic, your shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Sylus gently lifts your chin with a finger, guiding your gaze back to him. He smiles, that soft, understanding smile that always makes you feel seen. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace. The chill of winter seems to disappear in his hold, replaced by the comforting heat of his body.

“The best gift is having you by my side, kitten.” he whispers into your ear, his voice low and sincere.

You feel your heart beating faster.

"Actions speak louder than words"

You agree with Sylus that both would be more honest with each other. Maybe now is the time to show him just how important he is to you. You spent so much time looking for something to buy that you forgot that the simplest gifts are often the most meaningful, especially when they come straight from the heart.

"Sylus… I actually have something else."

"Oh, is that so?“ 

„Can... I borrow your face?" He loosens his grip slightly and steps back, taking your hands in his, warming them up. He looks at you, amused and curious, and leans down.

"Close your eyes..." you whisper. He doesn’t say anything but does as you ask, his smile softening as he relaxes his face. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race, each beat echoing louder in your chest.

The world falls silent for a moment—it's just the two of you, suspended in time. The anticipation tingles through you as you lean closer, closing the distance between you.

You press your lips gently against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin against your lips is electric. It’s a simple kiss, but it carries all the unspoken words you couldn’t say out loud. A silent confession. You linger there for just a heartbeat longer, feeling him inhale sharply, as if caught off guard by the intimacy of it. As you pull back, the first snowflakes begin to fall, drifting slowly from the sky. The soft touch of snow melts against your skin, but Sylus holds you close, not letting the moment slip away.

„Now... that’s a present only you could have given me." He gives you the most tender smile. "Thank you."

He looks like he wants to say something else but remains silent. Instead, he pulls you into a deeper embrace, burying his face in your hair as the snow continues to fall softly around you. You’re more than fine with that. No, you’re happy—grateful for this sweet moment.

You realize you’re a step closer to falling for him completely, accepting that the connection between you two is stronger than you ever imagined.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“Merry Christmas, kitten.”

Second part🌲: A Hunter's Christmas Hustle: X-mas morning

[unintentionalseductress]

Hi!!! If you're still taking requests, can you do a bodyguard headcanon for the LADS boys pls and thanks 🙏

After talking to @ballorawan740 a little more, an extra detail added for the request was that MC was hired as a bodyguard for a young girl by their family. So I made all the men single dads for this HC. IDK who had they this child with or how it happened, just go with it.

Hey Miss Bodyguard...

Zayne:

He's a rich, famous, doctor stretched thin. He hadn't expected being a single dad would be this challenging. Being the youngest person to win the Starcatcher award was no small feat after all.

His fear stems from his refusal to work with Ever. He's terrified that they'll take his daughter as leverage.

He holds interviews of course, because how else can he find the best person to keep his little girl safe? When you walk in, he feels a connection that was absent with the other candidates. You got along easily with his child, and it was obvious that you cared for her more than beyond seeing her as a paycheck.

He keeps things professional and beyond offering you a drop home at night or sometimes bringing takeout, he mostly keeps to himself, but he's drawn to the way you spend time with his daughter. He sees how happy she is around you, and he's confident in your abilities to keep her safe.

It's his daughter that points out he likes you. "Miss...I think my daddy like you!" she'll say matter-of-factly while she gets her shoes on for school. Zayne nearly chokes on his coffee, his ears turning red as you stifle a laugh behind your hands, ushering her out the door. Later that day, Zayne calls asking if it would be all right if he asked you to dinner. You accept of course, because how could anyone resist the stoic, handsome, doctor with the cute daughter?

Sylus:

Sylus has a never-ending list of reasons as to why he needed a bodyguard for his daughter. He was the leader of an organized crime group after all, and there were several people who would gladly claim his head on a platter.

He tried to entrust Luke and Kieran but after an almost near accident at a gun range he decided maybe they weren't the best choice.

His daughter is suspicious of you when Sylus hires you. You simply looked out of place in the N109 zone and part of her didn't feel like you were 'one of them'. She would constantly complain to Mephisto and insist uncle Luke and uncle Kieran weren't that bad, and that they were sorry about the gun range incident.

You finally gain her trust when you teach her how to shoot soda cans with your hunter's gun. She's impressed and says you're not a bad shot, the highest compliment she could think of.

She expresses her approval to her dad and says to him, "daddy, she can outshoot you. You should shoot guns together." Sylus who is tossing a salad for their meal glances at you thoughtfully just as you're about to walk out the door. "Is that so? Well, what does our bodyguard think?" You'll freeze for a minute and retort that you had to think about it and leave. Sylus smiles reassuringly at his daughter. "That's a yes."

Xavier:

Xavier decides to ask you to be his daughter's bodyguard after finding out there are traitors amongst the Backtrackers. Their anger at him for deciding to stay in this timeline with his daughter knew no bounds. He feared they would kidnap her and attempt to fly back to dying Philos. They'd never make it, he knew, given the condition of their spaceship. His bigger concern was them getting stuck in the deepspace tunnel with no way to find their coordinates.

Xavier's daughter has an easy relationship with you. She's seen you around the building before and you always have candy ready for her sweet tooth. If Xavier was too busy to give her attention, then down the elevator she came to knock on your door.

On multiple occasions Xavier has come down to retrieve his daughter from you, reminding her that it's not ok to visit when you were off duty. This upsets her and she looks at you teary-eyed and you insist that she's not a bother.

At this point his daughter bursts out loudly, "Daddy, I'm always either at our place or hers. Miss should just move in with you so that I don't have to come downstairs anymore!" Both you and Xavier laugh awkwardly, both of you blushing before bidding each other good night.

But after Xavier has put his daughter to bed, he considers the idea. It seemed practical, but he knew you'd never go for it. So instead he asks you if you'd be interested in joining him for hot pot one of these days.

Rafayel:

Rafayel somehow believes that because you are his bodyguard, it means you are his daughter's too. Even after you told him it would cost double since you're trying to protect two people he shrugs it off and asks Thomas to write you a check for more.

The young girl is similar to her dad and has an artistic flair, painting breathtaking landscapes and adorable little cartoons alike. She often watches you chastising her dad for not following rules and not being safe enough and senses there's more there.

She can't help but notice that some of her dad's portraits feature people with features similar to yours; the same nose, the shape of your eyes, or the fullness of your lips. When she points this out Rafayel shakes his head in denial.

Determined to be right, she pulls you into his studio where all the portraits are kept while he's out one day. You do see the resemblance but try to console the girl that artists can find inspiration from anywhere, and it might not be as simple as him having feelings for you. Of course, she pouts (so much like her dad!) and that's when Rafayel walks in.

You ask him to correct his daughter, that your relationship is strictly professional. Rafayel sighs dramatically, then says, "Yeah, it's professional. But only because I can't get her to change her mind." His daughter smirks in triumph and you leave the room blushing, wondering how you got tangled up with this family.

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[ixloom819]

Showdown (P3)

Here’s the next part of the Yan!Sylus series! Please look at past posts for trigger warnings :)

The next few weeks have felt like hell for you, more than usual.

You wanted to stay in ignorance. You wanted to pretend that murder wasn’t happening outside the walls of the base, murder that wasn’t brought to pass by your information.

But you needed to make sure Sylus kept his word. You needed to hold him accountable. And maybe it was a way to keep yourself accountable too, to make clear to you your sins. Sylus protested at first, but you two shared the same weakness: you couldn’t say no to the other for long.

It didn’t take long for Xavier to confront Sylus. He had approached the base, clad in the visage of Lumiere. You had watched the scene through the camera feed. Sylus tried to persuade you from it, but it was the only way you could be sure what happened. You didn’t dare leave it up to your imagination.

Xavier demanded to know what happened that day. You couldn’t decide whether it was kindness or cruelty that led Sylus to tell Xavier the truth.

But to his credit, Sylus didn’t taunt him like he could have, given the knowledge you had given him. He did offer him mercy: a chance to walk away and live the rest of his life the way MC would have wanted him to.

But you both had known he wouldn’t take that offer. A man with an unfixable deadline doesn’t fear death, and Xavier didn’t run from this fight.

It was one thing to see the love interests fight against Wanderers with MC. It was another thing to see two different love interests fighting against each other with the intention to kill.

There were some things that Xavier did that you hadn’t known about and you did feel a spike of anxiety when he seemed to get an upper hand on Sylus.

But Sylus was stronger now than he was in game. What he didn’t know from you, he was able to improvise on the spot. Watching him in a fight helped you realize how Sylus ruled the N109 Zone.

At the end, Sylus was victorious, Xavier on the ground and unable to get up. You had watched the video with bated breath. Would Sylus break his word? Would the video cut out, leaving Xavier’s fate unknown to you?

But no. Sylus had pulled out his phone and minutes later, Luke and Kieran had come with a stretcher, loading Xavier on it and carting him away.

Sylus explained to you that they had flown Xavier back to Linkon to receive medical attention. He even showed other video footage and records of the helicopter flight and medical bills.

At that moment, your heart swelled for him. Sylus truly was going against his violent nature to appease you, even if it might make problems later. How could you doubt that love, no matter how twisted it may be?

Caleb’s elimination was more subtle. Sylus had contacts and important figureheads under his influence within the Farspace Fleet (of course he did). Not only that, but Onychinus helped provide weapons, both by legal and illegal matters. It wasn’t difficult to get the higher ups in the Fleet to dismiss Caleb’s concerns and demands for action.

Sylus would get reports regarding Caleb; incident reports about his increased aggression, unauthorized use of surveillance equipment, and his increasing insistence to reopen the case on Onychinus. Though you could only see it through an official filter, the conflict seemed to grow and climax-

Until it stopped. According to the reports, Caleb went from being incredibly unstable to the perfect soldier, doing every mission effectively and not diverting his attention anywhere else.

That scared you more than the previous reports. An outwardly hostile Caleb could be taken into account. But a Caleb where everything seemed normal when it shouldn’t be? That spoke danger to you, something that seemed like it would hit you when you least expected it.

It didn’t help your paranoia that Rafayel didn’t seem to be very active either. There’d be sightings of him, sometimes very near the base, but they wouldn’t last long, and he’d be gone before anyone got to him. You knew he wasn’t going to let this go - the only exception to Rafayel’s hatred for humanity was MC after all. So that meant he was either playing a long game, or he was much better at going undetected than he’d have you believe.

You had a constant creeping feeling, like there were eyes on you. It wasn’t hard imagining Caleb watching you through whatever spyware he used to keep track of MC. Every flickering shadow caught your eye and took the form of a silhouette, making you tense up each time. It got to the point where you avoided the windows and all but clung to Sylus when he wasn’t busy dealing with security threats or regular business.

You considered this place your new home, the safest place for you in this world. Yet even that didn’t feel safe now.

Sylus easily caught on to your fears and was always there to reassure you. He’d spend any time he could afford in your company. He’d constantly reassure you of the base’s security and any progress he and the twins had made. He even joined you in some activities, like making treats and cuddling during a movie.

It had been hard imagining things going back to the way they were when Sylus had told you that he had killed MC. Such a thing should be unforgivable, especially for the one he had waited lifetimes to be with again. Yet, when he looked at you with such tenderness and love, when everything he did was for the purpose of protecting you, when he went against his violent nature and what he thought would best eliminate the problem for your peace of mind? You found it nigh impossible to hold a grudge against him, to avoid melting into his embrace.

Somehow amid all the chaos, you found yourself loving him more than ever.

There was nothing to signify anything happening today. Sylus and you were on your way to the kitchen, hand in hand, to get a little snack after he’d been on his computer for a few hours. It was a brief moment when nothing weighed on your mind.

That’s when you felt it. The base rattled a bit. A second later, you heard something. Was that an explosion?

Sylus was instantly on high alert, head turned towards the sound. He looked back at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. You had the same going through your mind. You knew he needed to go there, that whatever caused the explosion needed to be dealt with. But you were also scared and didn’t want him to leave you.

Finally, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Go to our bedroom,” he said quietly, “I’ll be back soon.”

Swallowing your fears, you did your best to put on a brave face and nodded.

He hadn’t even made it ten steps before you felt a foreign body against you, quick as the wind, and something thin and sharp pressed against your throat. Your body froze, your breath hitched.

“C’mon, don’t do that…” a familiar voice drawled. Your heart quickened. Rafayel?!

Sylus instantly whirled around. You saw his eye widen, taking in the scene behind him, before they narrowed, resembling smoldering embers ready to set the ground ablaze.

“You’ll miss all the fun,” Rafayel finished, pressing the blade a bit harder against your throat. If his tone was anything to go off of, you’d say he was smiling. You tried to move away from it, but he kept you in place with his body.

“I suggest,” Sylus said slowly, “that you let her go. Now.” His voice seemed calm and controlled, yet you could hear the tension in it. It was the voice of the calm before the storm, a great force pressed against the barrier, ready to burst.

Rafayel hummed as if considering it. “No, I don’t think I will.” The playful tilt drained from his voice. “I’ve been watching you for a while. I’ve seen how much you care about this girl. You took my heart.” He pressed the blade further into your throat. “I think it’s only fair if I take yours.”

You felt a trickle of blood run down your neck.

You had thought a lot about what might happen if you died here. Maybe you’d go back to your own life, finding out this whole thing was a coma dream. Maybe you’d be brought to a different world. Maybe you’d go to whatever afterlife existed. Maybe you’d simply stop existing.

But in this moment, you couldn’t find yourself caring about any of that. You just knew that you were about to die, and you didn’t want to.

You were terrified.

You had to do something, anything, that would stop him.

Think, think-

“So you do remember!” you said loudly, far too loudly for the tension in the room.

Four eyes looked at you with utter confusion. It made you want to falter, to stop. But you couldn’t.

“Do you know what time it is?” you continued, hoping your voice didn’t betray your fear. “It’s been eight hundred years.” How did that stupid line go?! “Jellyfish are… walking naked, sea turtles are climbing trees, and sharks are eating grass for free. And now finally, finally you remember.”

Sylus was understandably looking at you like you had lost your mind. But if the growing tension in his body was anything to go by, Rafayel recognized your words. He pressed the knife harder against your throat.

“How do you know that?” he growled deeply.

You swallowed, which was hard with the knife against your windpipe. “…Because I was there. I can’t explain it in a way that makes sense, but I was there at the hospital. With her.”

The shift in his body should’ve told you to stop talking. But you had to keep going, had to get it all out. “I saw all your moments together. I know your past with her. I know that she was your heart and the one you’ve loved for centuries.”

Doing your best to ignore the knife, you turned your head upwards to meet Rafayel’s gaze. He was wearing his assassin’s outfit, so only his gorgeous pink-blue eyes were visible.

“I know how much you loved her,” you told him, trying to convey all your sincerity into your face and voice, “and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry because… I’m the reason she’s dead.”

You heard Sylus inhale sharply. “Don’t,” he said warningly.

Rafayel’s eyes narrowed, searching your face. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

You stood a steadying breath. “I’m… not supposed to be here. But I am. And I ended up being very selfish. I… took Sylus’ love that he had for her. If it wasn’t for me, he’d be happy with her. He also loved her in another life, and he would’ve been fine with being whatever she needed him to be as long as he could be by her side. I came and changed that.

“And that wasn’t even enough for me. I couldn’t… accept him while I believed there was another source of happiness… of love for him. So… he killed her. And I ended up taking your love too.”

The air was still, as if the fabric of the universe was taking in your confession.

“…Why tell me this?” Rafayel finally spoke. “Do you want me to kill you?”

Why were you smiling at that? “No,” you responded truthfully. “Even after knowing what I caused, I’m still selfish enough to want to live.” C’mon. “And… I think MC would want that too.”

Rafayel’s sharp breath was a warning. But you pressed on. “I got to know her for a little bit. Not super well, but enough to know she’s a kind individual. She wouldn’t want you killing me to avenge her. That’s just not how she works. So please… just set down the knife, and we can all walk out of here, okay?” Please.

A beat. Another.

“Do you really think I’d just let you go?” Rafayel spoke in a low tone, waves of pain carefully hidden. “If what you said is true, I have even more reason to kill you. You tell me you’re responsible for her death, then dare to say she wouldn’t want this? You dare beg for mercy?”

His eyes were slits of unforgiveness. “Choke on your own blood. On your arrogance.”

His hand pushed down into your neck.

Another force pushed back.

Confusion, then distress flickered in his eyes. He pushed against the force, but it was stronger. Red tendrils of energy pushed his hand away from your throat, giving you an opening to run away from him.

Sylus walked forward, eyes locked on Rafayel with his hand outstretched. “Good work, darling,” he said, walking past you. “Now turn around and cover your ears.”

Part of you wondered if you deserved to. You had purposely stalled for time so Sylus could save you. You had traded your life for Rafayel’s. Shouldn’t you face the consequences of your actions?

But you never lied in your words to Rafayel. You were indeed selfish. So you kept your back to them and closed your eyes. You pushed your antitragus into your ear canal and you hummed.

Not a melody that would distract you or sooth you, but a singular note. One who vibrates in your head and blocks out any noise from the outside world. Your entire focus was maintaining that note, not giving yourself room to wander and imagine what was happening behind you-

Something tapped your shoulder. You jumped a bit and whirled around to face it, your nerves a mess.

It was Sylus. His face showed impassiveness, but it was a practiced look, one that he put on when he didn’t want to show how bothered he was.

His wings were outstretched, blocking the view of the hallway behind him. Was that done on purpose?

His eyes flicked to your neck. His eyebrows narrowed a sliver, his gaze clouding a bit. “We should get that patched up,” he said in a purposefully calm manner.

Your first instinct was to brush off his concern. It didn’t hurt much and it didn’t feel deep. But you didn’t have much knowledge about wounds, so perhaps it was more serious than you thought.

Not only that, but it was a sign of what almost happened, what reality may have manifested if one of you had acted differently. Maybe he needed it treated more than you did.

So you nodded and let him guide you through the base. He only diverted his attention from you for a moment to order a cleanup where you had come from.

As you walked, you waited for the grief and guilt you felt when you heard of MC’s death. Yet, you reached the medical wing and you still felt nothing as the onsite doctor patched you up. Had you already become desensitized to death?

Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten to know him. Sylus, Luke, Kieran… you knew them as game characters at first, but then you grew to love them as people. Even with the little time you had with MC you found her to be very kind and, while you were envious of her place with Sylus, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

But you hadn’t gotten that chance with Rafayel. All you had of him in this world was the shadow of the knife you still felt on your neck, and pink-blue orbs of pain and hatred. Other than being your attempted killer, Rafayel was just a love interest in a dating sim. Maybe that separation made the loss mean less to you.

You hadn’t realized the doctor had left until Sylus reached out and gently held your hand. You snapped back to reality to find you were alone together. “Hey,” he spoke softly. “Are you alright?”

You took a moment to assess yourself, to make sure you would be truthful when you spoke. “…Yeah, I think so,” you responded. “I am now anyway.”

Sylus nodded and fell into a contemplative silence. You could tell he had something on his mind, but you didn’t want to push him. It had been a hard day for him too. So you waited for him to gather his thoughts.

“…Did you mean what you said back there?”

You hadn’t expected that question, though you probably should have.

You had the opportunity to backtrack. You could say that you were just saying whatever popped in your head to buy time and try to dissuade Rafayel. You had that out and he probably wouldn’t push it further.

“…Sometimes,” you admit. “It’s hard not to, knowing what your life would be like with her… without me…”

Silence, as both of you took in your words.

“…My last life with her was… wonderful,” Sylus finally spoke. “It was rough, messy, and tragic, but beautiful in its own way. And it gave me a chance to live another life. I won’t pretend it wasn’t great when it happened.

“And maybe my life with Miss Hunter would be as wonderful as you saw it in your world. Maybe I could have grown to love her despite our rough start and found a special happiness with her.

“But this is a new life for me, and that means I get the chance to make new choices. And this is a life where I got to meet and know you. And in this life, I choose you.” His grip on your hand tightened.

“You loved me despite what I’ve done. You were willing to back away for my happiness. You constantly gave love and attention, but never asked for anything in return. Even now, when you’ve been struggling with what I’d done, you never got mad at me or tried to run away.

“I choose what I do with this life and I choose to love you. You never stole anything. I freely give it to you.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. How couldn’t they with such sweet, sincere words? “Sylus…”

He put his hand behind your head and pulled it forward so he could kiss your forehead. “I love you, my treasure.”

Little author’s note: this was not how I originally planned this post to go. I was going to write three peats detailing each of the love interests, where Xavier died in battle and Caleb got so unstable that Ever wiped him completely with the Toring chip. This didn’t end up happening because I can’t write fighting scenes to save my life (as you could probably tell) and I wasn’t confident enough in the hypothetical inner machinations of the Farspace Fleet/Ever to write Caleb’s part properly, so I went with this. I changed Xavier’s fate because I figured it’d be better for Sylus’ character to do his best to keep his promise, and Caleb’s ending stayed the same but hopefully I made it a more subtle presentation. The reader and Sylus aren’t going to know what happened to Caleb so they’ll still be wary of him, but I’m not planning on him being a threat anymore. I hope you’ve been enjoying the series!

[iidilio]

Day 16: As a couple, he'd be…

— What would Sylus be like as a your bf?

[ 🌸 ] I still need to check for possible spelling mistakes hahaha

characters: Sylus

warnings: none, fluff-fluff-fluff

More? Here

…

..

.

—If there’s one thing that’s clear from the very beginning, it’s that Sylus isn’t a man who’s easily read.

—With his men, his associates, and the world in general, he’s a relentless leader—a man who exudes danger with every calculated move.

—However, with his S/O… Oh, with his beloved S/O, it’s a whole different story. His tone softens, his words flow with a slower cadence, and while his gestures aren’t overly dramatic, his indulgence is unmistakable.

—Would you believe me if I told you the contrast is almost unreal? If someone who doesn’t know Sylus were to see him interacting with his Sweetie, they’d think they were looking at a completely different person.

—With his S/O, his voice is gentler, his words more deliberate, his patience endless. But the moment he turns to Luke, Kieran, or any of his subordinates, his presence becomes pure steel: sharp voice, precise orders, absolute authority.

—That duality is disorienting to those around him, but for his partner, it’s just further proof that there’s a part of him he reserves for no one else.

—The first time he called you “kitten,” he said it in that low, velvety voice, like he was testing the weight of the word on his tongue. And when he saw her reaction—that faint blush, the way you blinked quickly—a small, satisfied smile crept onto his lips.

—From that day forward, the nickname stuck. Always spoken softly, with a barely-there hint of possessiveness.

—Trust me, it doesn’t matter how tough, independent, or fierce his partner is—for him, you’ll always be his kitten. At first, it might seem like a joke, but over time it becomes an unshakable habit. It’s a nickname he uses with a mix of affection and gentleness (and a bit of possession), in that deep voice that always softens when it’s about you. If you tried to protest or question about the nickname, he just smiles with that expression that makes it very clear—he’s not changing it.

—Luke and Kieran have noticed. They’ve picked up on how their boss, who has zero patience for anyone, lets you—you and only you—cross his lines without a single growl. How he lets you sit on his lap while he reviews documents, when anyone else trying to interrupt his work would get a glare sharp enough to draw blood. How his tone subtly shifts when he talks to you—lower, almost melodic.

—Sylus isn’t a man who yields easily. If someone in Onychinus makes a mistake, the consequences are swift and calculated. No second chances. But with his S/O…

—Well, let’s just say the rules seem to bend a little. If you insist on something, he’ll consider it more seriously than he would for anyone else. If you fuss over something trivial, he’ll sigh, maybe glance at you with a mix of resignation and amusement… and end up giving in.

—Luke and Kieran have learned to spot this pattern—and though they never mention it out loud (they’re not suicidal hahshahs), they exchange knowing looks every time Sylus, the ruthless leader of Onychinus, does something blatantly out of character just because his kitten asked him to.

—No one would dare say it aloud, but the contrast is undeniable. With them, he’s sharp. With you, he’s… different. Because to Sylus, the world he lives in is cruel and ruthless—but you are his universe—his safe haven.

—Sometimes, he lets you win small arguments. Not in an obvious way, of course. But if he notices something truly matters to you, he lets you take the win without any hesitation.

—And then there are the little things. How he always remembers what you like to eat, how he picks your favorite perfume on you like it’s second nature.

—How he makes sure you never have to worry about mundane things, like money or your own safety.

—His world may be a chaos, but he’ll do the impossible to make sure yours is peace.

—When Sylus falls deeply in love, he becomes blind to red flags. Don’t get me wrong—he’ll see the signs, but he’s been alone for so long that he won’t care if his S/O is using him… (pls—pls—pls—pls—don’t break his little heart).

—Your safety is this man’s top priority. He makes sure his men know they have to protect you at all costs. (If you focus hard enough, you’d probably catch Mephisto in the corner of your eye, silently watching over you from the shadows.)

—But of course, Sylus knows his S/O isn’t weak. In fact, one of the reasons he probably fell for you is because you don’t need protection… but that doesn’t mean he won’t do it anyway.

—He’s not the kind of man who stops you from doing things or locks you up in a tower (unless he sees it as absolutely necessary… y’know, if you’re a cute civilian and all that stuff hahsha), but he’s always making sure you’re safe.

—It could be as simple as making sure someone he trusts escorts you if you need to go somewhere risky (aka: the grocery store, work, a café… etc lmfao), and he makes damn sure no one in N109 even thinks about harming you or looking at you in the wrong way.

—If anyone ever threatens you, that person’s fate is sealed the moment Sylus finds out.

—Sometimes, he can’t help being a little possessive, though he hides it well. If someone stares at you too long, his mere presence is enough to make anyone look away. He doesn’t need words—his reputation and presence speak for themselves.

—But the scariest part is how calm he stays when someone puts you in danger. No yelling. No empty threats. Just a silent promise that whoever dared to touch what’s his… won’t live to tell the tale. Because if the world is cruel, he can be even worse.

—When they’re alone, when the weight of the world fades away, you can see the version of Sylus no one else knows.

—He’s a man of subtle gestures—absentminded strokes through your hair as you slowly drifts to sleep. Slow but passionate kisses, almost like he’s trying to imprint his soul onto your body.

—He’s not one for big public displays of affection, but he won’t stop you or complain if you get a little clingy with him (actually—he enjoys it, lmfao 😭)

—He’s not flashy about romance. He doesn’t care for grand declarations or dramatic gestures in public, but his actions always speak for themselves.

—It could be as simple as draping his coat over your shoulders when he notices you’re cold, resting his hand on your waist almost absently as they walk, or serving you first at a group meal.

—His love shows in quiet actions, but every single one of them carries a weight his S/O always notices.

—Oh, but when they’re in the privacy of their bedroom? When it’s just him and you, there are moments when his guard finally drops. In those quiet early hours of the morning, when you’re curled against his chest and he lazily runs a hand down your back. Or in those comfortable silences where nothing needs to be said, because they know each other so well, words are unnecessary.

—He never says “I love you” lightly. He’s not a man who speaks without thinking. But when he does finally say it, it carries the weight of a promise—with an intensity that tells you there’s no one else in his world.

—And if you teases him for taking so long, he just gives you a crooked smile, almost as if to say, “pretty kitten, you knew the time would come.”

—And the most ironic part? Despite his reputation, despite the fear he commands in the world…

—With you, he’s so different. In the stillness of the night, he’s just a man holding you close to his chest, planting soft kisses on your forehead because god… he loves you so much.

—For you, he’s willing to make exceptions he’d never make for anyone else. And the worst (or best) part is… you already know. You notice when his voice loses its edge when he speaks to yoi.

—You notice when his hardened expression softens—just a bit. You notice how the way he looks at you holds none of the ferocity that everyone else fears.

—And though he’d never say it out loud, Sylus knows you’re his weakness.

—Sylus is not an easy man. He’s dangerous, calculated, and merciless. But for the right person—for his person—he’s something else. A silent refuge. A tender lover. A man who would never let the world hurt his precious lady.

..

.

.

Luke: “Did you see that? You saw it, right?!” *whispering excitedly after Sylus poured your coffee and softly stroked your cheek.*

Kieran: *without looking up* “Don’t say anything. If you make a comment and he hears us, he’ll kill us.”

Luke: “But—”

Kieran: *flat tone.* “He. Will. Kill us.”

Luke: *sighs* “…but it’s kinda sweet, right?”

🥺🥺🥺

not me adding incorrect quotes at the end hahahsha

[harmomay]

LADS MEN with an autistic s/o!!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

xavier, zayne, rafayel & sylus

Suprisingly knows a lot about it! Goes as far as to be aware of the whole ‘masking’ process.

Generally speaking, he’s a free weighted blanket. Will go out of his way to make sure he’s wearing clothing without that texture when cuddling. 

His whole home is pretty much an autism safe space already. No overhead lighting. Everywhere is soft and quiet. 

Not being the most expressive man out there, he definitely empathises and understands if you do the same thing. Especially if going nonverbal/are overwhelmed. Will print out a bunch of those communication cards, might even use some of them himself.

Sometimes is taken aback by sudden moments of hyperfocus, silently observing with interest as your attention span for this one thing is seemingly unbreakable.

Personally prefers the straight-to-the-point conversations. 

If you get tired a lot, especially from socialisation, he will definitely encourage nap times after work.

Immediately asks what he can do to support you. As a doctor, he’s very much used to the medical approach and may be more focused on how it negatively impairs your life. Though, he’s quick to change his perspective.

The more he does independent research as well as the input from you, the more he resonates with a lot of the traits. Personally, I see a lot of autistic traits such as social awkwardness, hyperfixations etc. (though important to acknowledge there are social factors as to why he’s so ‘cold’) in him and let’s be real- he’s probably at one point been told by someone he’s autistic. Hadn’t really looked into it until you came along.

Personally I think that Zayne is such a good doctor in the story is because he empathises with his patients on a much deeper level, but isn’t really good at expressing it externally (hence the ‘coldness’)- something which i’ve found through experience seems to correlate with a lot of autistic peoples’ experiences

He probably knows a few good pediatricians, occupational therapists and asks for recommendations regarding accommodations for you. Your experiences also encourage him to bring more awareness to sensory-friendly spaces within the hospital for patients.

Will get butterflies in his stomach listening to you infodump about your latest fixation, noting the way your eyes have that light in them and you speak with such passion about it. 

“Hey, I’M the one who’s artistic!”

Completely misinterprets it at first, but immediately realises his mistake once you repeated yourself. Being in the art space, he’s come across a few artists who had communicated about their experience within their work. Even with his limited knowledge, he’s eager to find out more. Maybe even be an inspiration for another piece. Referring to overstimulation as a tsunami makes him understand it better. Talk to him about autism in fishy terms please.

If there’s a certain texture you like, he’d incorporate it into his pieces upon the pretense of ‘being innovative’ within his art. 

Prepares an allocated room for your sensory accommodations. If you need white noise, the beach waves are just an added bonus. 

If you tend to speak in a blunt/matter-of-fact manner, he finds it very endearing and easier to tease you. Though, it can take him off guard sometimes depending on what you say.

Unconsciously picks up some of your stims. If you flap your hands around as a stim, he WILL call you a fish. Might also ask if you’re doing a mating ritual. Though, only if he’s sure that you’re in a mood for his comments.

Changes some of the ways he communicates to you so it’s more straight-forward/doesn’t rely on social cues.

You had best believe that this man would immediately provide a room in his base specifically catered toward your sensory needs. Essentially, it’s a personalised panic room. Here are the requirements he gave Luke and Kieran to organise:

A/C and Heating are completely adjustable

Dim/Gentle lighting

Couches, Beds, Beanbags

Weighted Blankets, Plushies

Soundproof Panelling

Shelves to store items regarding special interests

ALWAYS HAVE ADDITIONAL SET OF HEADPHONES!

Drawers for fidgets.

The twins, although their lore is quite limited, feel to me like they have ADHD. Otherwise, Sylus has a little bit of knowledge regarding some traits as they often overlap. Nonetheless, he will happily listen and have Mephisto take notes.

Finds the different thinking process a very valuable tool in his field of work. Sometimes you’d pick up on some random detail that not even Mephisto could recognise and he’d just smile to himself.

He empathises a lot with being the target of social outcasting, and if it does occur to you his heart will practically shatter. Resonates with you on a deeper level.

[nightplvmes]

birthday cake

"i want to taste you," he murmured against your skin before sliding his tongue to your entrance. "it's my birthday present." ☆ sylus x fem!reader — smut, +18, MDNI! explicit content, oral sex ☆ sylus birthday special #3 | one (fluff) • two (fluff) – likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :) ★ masterlist here

Sylus slid into bed, his hands running up your legs to your thighs, where he placed small caresses before spread your thighs. you leaned on your elbows and looked at him confused. His party had ended almost an hour ago. you were about to clean everything up, but Sylus had stopped you, saying someone else would take care of it, so you had no choice but to go upstairs to your bedroom and flop down on the bed. you were exhausted. you'd spent the whole day running around trying to organize everything so it was perfect. even with Luke and Kieran's help, it had been exhausting. "what are you doing?"

Sylus placed a kiss on your knee and trailed a small path to your thighs. of course, you had an idea of what he was about to do. "I want to eat my birthday cake," he said nonchalantly.

you looked at him blankly. he'd eaten cake. you'd tried to figure out which cake he disliked the least so you could order it. of course, he'd eaten cake, but... you knew he wasn't talking about food the moment his fingers slid your dress up to your hips, revealing your black lace panties. he placed a kiss on the edge of your panties, you could feel the warmth of his lips and his breath hit your already heated skin. "Sy... that wasn't part of the deal." a gasp escaped your lips, but you only heard a soft mmmm from Sylus.

"do you want me to stop?" he looked up at you, but you quickly shook your head.

"no, go on." your gaze shifted to the clock on the wall of the room. "there are still 20 minutes left before your birthday is over." you didn't want to admit that you were actually already too wet to not continue, and besides, you weren't going to deny your boyfriend anything on his birthday.

he smiled before placing one last kiss on the hem of your panties and after a few seconds, his is fingers finally slid the fabric down your legs, removing your underwear. his hands lifted your dress, adjusting it around your hips for better access. a satisfied sound rumbled in his chest as he spread your thighs and took the time to place kisses along the skin of your thighs until he reached your center.

he didn't wait a single second before sinking his mouth into your core. a gasp escaped your lips the second you felt his tongue run all over your wetness. he first focused on circling your clit with his tongue, your hips bucked against his mouth, seeking more, but Sylus squeezed your hips to keep you in place and take his time. "I want to taste you," he murmured against your skin before sliding his tongue to your entrance. "it's my birthday present."

a snort escaped your lips when you heard his words because you had certainly already given him a birthday present. you'd always thought everything about Sylus was big, maybe because of his height or maybe because of the excessive exercise he sometimes did, but you confirmed it again when he slid one of his fingers inside you. It had only been one finger, and it had still been enough to make you squirm. "ah—damn... Sylus!"

heat began to build quickly in your body, and he still gently squeezed your thighs to keep you in place, tasting every part of you. you didn't know if he simply had a magic tongue, but you could never reach orgasm as quickly as he did.

"I'm going... I'm close—ah!" your back arched, and you felt him grip your thighs tightly to keep you still.

"hold on a little longer for me," he murmured, taking a deep breath before sinking his mouth back onto you, his tongue swiping over your entrance, tasting your wetness before returning to your clit. Your hips bucked against his mouth, rubbing your needy clit against his tongue.

"I can't, I can't," you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling perhaps a little too hard, making him groan. you didn't even expect him to say anything; you came in his mouth without warning. Sylus savored every drop until your thighs trembled from the overstimulation. "Sy... ah!" you moaned, trying to move your hips away from him. you could swear he'd already cleaned you completely and now you were wet again.

when he looked up at you, his lips glistened with the remnants of your juices. a gasp escaped you as he ran his tongue over his lips; you could see that gleam in his eyes that told you he wasn't finished yet. "happy birthday," you murmured, gently running one of your fingers down his cheek until you reached his jaw, forcing him to raise his face towards you.

[deepspacedarling]

How The LADS Boys Miss You When You’re Gone

Warnings: Angst. These boys miss you.

AN: I was thinking of that quote from Spongebob "What do you do when I'm normally at school?" "Wait for you to come back." and honestly, it's the LADS boys with MC. So, here's some sad headcanons for them waiting for you to come back.

Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb

Xavier

Some people used to think that Xavier was really emotionless but they don’t think that anymore. Ever since you left for a mission without him, he’s been in a mood and everyone just hopes you come home soon.

He wakes up every morning and when he reaches out, your side of the bed is cold just like it has been since you left. He just wants to go back to sleep. You’re there in his dreams at least.

He occasionally goes to the arcade while you’re gone. It’s not as fun without you there but he tries to win plushies to surprise you with later.

He kind of just goes through the motions until you come back. Get up, go to work, hunt wanderers, go home, make dinner, burn it and eat it anyway, go to bed. The second you are home, he buries his face into your shoulder and just breathes you in. He's so happy you're home.

Zayne

If it’s even possible, he works harder. He’d rather be at the hospital saving lives than go home to an empty house. He’s exhausted but it’s the only way to get his mind off of you.

He tries to call you occasionally. He doesn’t want you to feel suffocated by him but he misses you and he needs to hear your voice. On the phone, he's more indifferent sounding but he's secretly hanging off of every word you say trying to memorize the sound of it. He misses you so much.

He eats little more candy than usual. He's stressed and the sugar sometimes helps. He sometimes goes to the cafe you both frequent together but it's not the same without you there.

When you get back, he's shocked to see you standing there so suddenly even if he knew you'd be home soon. He gives you a warm hug that's just a bit too tight. He spends the rest of the night grateful to have you home.

Rafayel

If you didn’t tell him where you were going, he’ll go looking for you. You’ve got some nerve just abandoning him again. He’s not going to let you get away that easily.

If you did tell him, then he’ll groan and complain until you get back. Poor Thomas is fighting for his life the entire time you're gone. He listens to Rafayel whine and groan. The man's five seconds away from listening to love ballads at full volume and Thomas is five seconds from strangling him.

His paintings and sketches take a little bit more of a melancholic turn. Storms at sea, large oppressive waves, cloudy skies. They’ll make a killing at the auctions but he’s too depressed to care. Everything just loses its color when you’re not around.

He sends you texts often to show you random things in the beach he found and just remind you that he’s still there waiting for you to come home.

Sylus

Luke and Kieran avoid him as much as they can when he gets like this. On the outside, Sylus is still the picture of poise and elegance. It doesn't look like your absence bothers him at all but they know better. Sylus is a walking nerve ready to hiss at the first thing that displeases him. And they will NOT be the ones to piss him off.

He'll buy a bunch of things that remind him of you. A cute plushie he saw in a window? You'd love it. Bought. A new outfit? It would look perfect on you. Bought. A new state of the art phone? Maybe you'll ANSWER HIS MESSAGES FASTER NEXT TIME. Bought. He'll shower you with the gifts when you get back.

He sends Mephisto out to keep an eye on you. Through Mephisto's eyes, he sees that you're find but you're. not. here. So, he broods. He waits. He kills a couple of people who displease him a little more violently than he normally would.

He's a live wire up until the point that Mephisto comes back to him and he realizes that that means you're back as well. When you finally come home, he says a teasing remark about how it "took you long enough" to get home. But you notice through the night that

Caleb

When you’re not around, it taxes every moment of Caleb’s day. He spent so long without you, can you blame him for looking for you everywhere? People make jokes and he pictures you laughing. He buys dinner and pictures you eating with him. You don't understand. He NEED you to come home already.

Every moment you’re gone, he can’t help but think about what could be happening to you. Gideon has to talk him out of getting on the first plane to fly to you multiple times while you're gone.

He watches a lot of the old videos he has of you on his phone. Ever since the explosion, all the stuff from your childhood is more or less gone and since your reunion, he’s been trying to make up for it by taking as many pictures and videos as possible. He'll watch them over and over again until you get back.

He always makes too much food and he doesn’t notice until he’s started plating it and he realizes that he only needs enough for one. He’ll put the food in the freezer. You’ll love it when you finally come home.

Requests are Open!

[himbo-kuto]

ceo!sylus x secretary!reader  summary: what happens you you become sylus' trusted secretary?

a/n: tried to make this one longer to make up for the shortness of the first part 😅 if y'all want to be tagged when these come out, let me know! i also slightly fudged the schedule than the one laid out in the first part-- apologies for the confusion!

part one | two

with freshly washed hair and a well moisturized face, you sat in bed and looked at your phone, 10:00pm. 

you had been thinking all day about whether or not you were going to take this position, and you still came up at a crossroads. 

you looked around at the tablet the twins gave you along with the briefing papers, that were all spread out around your bed. ever since you got home you’ve been flipping through these papers in order to see what it is like working for world renowned ceo, sylus qin. 

he had affairs in all different countries, making a multitude of deals with hundreds of other rich ceos– you wondered how he even had time for himself.

you unlocked the tablet to look at his schedule for tomorrow and he barely had time to breathe. starting his day at 5:00am boxing for an hour, breakfast, the day's briefing, and then meetings back to back all until 7:00pm. even then he still had work to do on his computer. 

you didn’t know who to feel bad for– sylus because he’s the one who’s participating in all of this, or you who had to stick by his side till the very end. 

a groan left your lips as you fell back on your bed, looking up at your white ceiling. 

“why not just try it? it’s not like if you fail that you’ll be fired from the company… but then you’ll look like the idiot who couldn’t do it… but then maybe people would understand since he was known to be a hard ass..” the angel and the devil were definitely arguing on your shoulders. you tried to wave them off, hoping that would subdue your thoughts but sometime in the middle of your deliberations, your mind drifted off to sleep.

you jolted awake to an alarm you didn’t even remember setting and looked at the time, 3:30am. 

you groggily looked around your room to still see that you truly passed out in the middle of thinking. papers still amiss, the tablet’s black screen reflecting your tired eyes. 

“well.. might as well go for it.” and go you did. 

you gathered up all your things before plunging into your morning routine

you gave yourself a once over in the mirror by your door, making sure your outfit was both comfortable yet professional. you didn’t know what he had in store for you, so best to be prepared for anything and everything. 

“if you decide you want the job, luke and i will be waiting downstairs by your place at 4:30am. we’ll take you to boss’s house. just know we won't wait long."

and lo and behold, there was a sleek black car waiting for you promptly at 4:30am by your apartment. 

at first you awkwardly waved at the car, not being able to see inside due to its tinted windows. 

the window soon rolled down and there were luke and kieran giving you some big smiles. 

“happy first day!” “we hope you make it!” 

well that’s promising. you got into the car and they zoomed off onto the city streets. 

you watched the lights go swiftly past your window as you went over a bridge. this was nice. luke and kieran were respectful, quiet and for the most part, they minded their business. 

“do you have any questions for us before we get to the house?” 

you found that whoever took these notes was very thorough yet concise at the same time. everything was laid out exactly how you should do it and how sylus wanted it. 

you shook your head, nothing coming to mind… well.. maybe one. 

“...what’s he like?” you paused before looking into the rearview mirror. 

“i’ve only ever seen our ceo for what? maybe max, 10 seconds?” 

they both laughed at that. 

“well as you can tell, boss man doesn’t exactly enjoy appearing to the public. only when business demands it does he show his face. otherwise he just likes to keep to himself.” 

“he’s also pretty simple. he’s the type of person that once he likes something, he sticks to it. rarely does he change his ways. if anything that makes him very consistent.” 

you nodded along, genuinely interested in what they had to say. you knew nothing of the man on top, but because of one single event, here were you in one of his cars being escorted to his house.

“how long have you guys been working with mr.qin?” 

luke wrapped his fingers around his chin, stroking it gently as if in thought. 

“honestly for as long as we can remember, we’ve been working for boss. he got us out of a pretty nasty situation way back when and ever since then we’ve been by his side.”

“like he said, he’s kicked us to the curb many times, but that didn’t stop us.” 

you softly smiled at the sentiment. you could only imagine what his face would’ve looked like seeing the two of them showing up to his doorstep after many attempts to shake them. in the midst of their attempts, he grew fond of them. 

“i’ll keep all those things in mind. thank you.” 

you looked out the window to see just how big sylus’ estate was. a gated off property that went deep into the woods, but once you reached the main property, the landscaped opened up to a beautiful dark mid century modern home. 

“everything you need will be in the kitchen. boss has already started his day, but he’ll promptly be up at 6:00am to eat so try and be on time. he doesn’t like when his schedule is disrupted.” 

you nodded, now finding a new wave of confidence. you wanted to put your best foot forward and if in the end it doesn’t work, at least you can say you gave it your all. 

the twins led you through the house to get started before disappearing to only god knows where. you looked at the notes again, following them as closely as you could while still keeping time. 

you fixed the last bowl on the table, as you glanced at your watch. 5:59am. perfect timing. you put your hands to your hips, feeling proud of the spread. with seconds to spare, you pulled out your phone and took a quick picture to remember your first day by. 

and like the twins said, as the clock striked 6:00am, sylus had emerged to the kitchen in his boxing gear (which wasn’t much) a tight fitting tank top and some five inch inseam shorts. 

you felt your face get hot seeing so much of his skin for the first time. 

“ahem, good morning mr. qin. i hope breakfast is to your liking.” 

he took a second, wrapping his towel and his neck before looking at you and then to the food on the table. 

“please join me.” he gestured to the seat beside him as he began to eat his meal. 

you sat down, grabbing the tablet under your arm before briefing him on his day. 

famous last words, but the beginning of your day was actually going very smoothly. sylus promptly finished breakfast by 6:30, leaving him enough time to get ready. 

you finished the last of your duties up in the kitchen before heading over to the garage. luke and kieran would be the ones to take you to work. 

“impressive. i’ve seen a lot of other secretaries much worse than you at this part of the day.”

“oh? well i guess i’m flattered. make sure to tell me that at the end of the day too even if it may not be true.” you all shared a laugh as sylus came from the hallway.

“didn’t expect everyone to be getting along so well. shall we?”

the car ride was much like the one in the morning, quiet but not entirely awkward. you flipped through his schedule for the next couple of hours, trying to commit it to memory. 

“who’s going to be in this meeting at 9:00am?” without delay, you read off the attendees. 

“then after?” again, quick answer. 

sylus let out a pleased hum, which the twins picked up on. they gave each other a knowing glance before going back to their business. 

“and what would you like for lunch mr.qin?” 

“mm.. you decide.” 

you pressed your lips together in a thin line now having to wrack your brain on what to get your ceo for lunch. you knew much of his dislikes, but not many of his likes. this would be your undoing, you just knew it. 

kieran pulled into an entrance that you weren’t familiar with to get into the building. you didn’t notice but your eyebrows furrowed together which made sylus chuckle ever so slightly. 

“it’s a private entrance. only me, the boys and now you have access to. here,” he held out a shiny black titanium card out to you. 

“your new keycard. you’ll find that you have access to more doors with this. don’t lose it. i won’t be giving you another one.” 

“understood.” you graciously took the card, replacing your old white keycard with this one (you already knew all the stickers you were going to put on this).

and from there, your official work day started. 

many, if not all the people in these meetings disregarded you as ‘just another one of sylus qin’s secretaries who will most likely be gone within the week’ as he introduced you and that pissed you off. you could just feel the 💢 emanating off your forehead. 

but you made sure to give them all a firm handshake while looking them in the eye. this would not be the last time they’d be seeing you. 

there was finally a short 20 minute break in between his meeting in which you used to order lunch. you sat at your new desk, looking through all the restaurants and cafes you and your co-workers had eaten for lunch– and suddenly it felt like you've never eaten at any of these places. 

you let out a big sigh just as luke walked by. 

“tired already?” 

you stuck your tongue out at him before gesturing to your tablet. 

“i’m just trying to figure out what to get everyone for lunch and i just want to get it right.” 

“wow, you’re really torn up about this huh?” 

if only you knew luke just a little bit longer, you definitely would’ve strangled him by now. 

“just use your best judgement. that’s why the boss chose you after all.” 

“didn’t you guys choose me based on my qualifications?”

he laughed at that. 

“everybody here is qualified to do the job, otherwise they wouldn’t be working at this company. but he picked you and that should be the equivalent of a lifetime achievement award.” 

now it was your turn to laugh. that did make you feel a lot better. 

“thanks, luke. i’ll be sure to get you something extra yummy.” 

turns out lunch was a hit– there was a cafe you always frequented during your lunch break and you knew the food was delicious so you hoped they would too. 

as you took sylus’ plate from his desk, you reminded him of the phone call he has in 20 minutes. 

“thank you, that was delicious. good choice.” 

you felt yourself bloom with pride at his compliment, but you quickly stopped yourself. (i can’t laugh yet, i have to hold it in)

“also cancel the rest of my meetings after 5:00pm” 

“oh sure– should I give them a reason why?”

“tell them i’m taking my secretary out for dinner after work.”

[mrsbarou]

SHUT UP AND LISTEN

Sylus (LAD) x fem!reader 18+ ; NSFW CONTENT

story synopsis: While you didn't get along at first, you started seeing Sylus in another light after a chain of events, though, you couldn't help but wonder if the change in his attitude had something to do with feelings or the fact he wanted to resonate with you. Once he finds out about your worries, Sylus is determined to prove you wrong.

content warning: angst, comfort, slight story spoilers, overthinking reader, mention of Rafayel, body worshipping, cunnilingus, marking, sex in front of a mirror, reverse cowgirl, dom!sylus, sub!reader, praise, pleasure!dom sylus, creampie, angst with happy ending. (Sylus might be a little ooc)

THERE WAS SOMETHING STRANGE about Sylus that you simply couldn't put your finger on. Something so familiar yet distant at the same time. It was hard to decipher what you truly felt about the Onychinus' leader. He was a cold hearted man, a psychopath at that. He was weird, had a big ego and never took you seriously. Yet, you couldn't help but wonder why he kept you alive, you were his "prey" — it would only be normal for him to eliminate you right there and then, so why?

Then it all fell into place after you found out about his plans: Resonating with you. Each attempt ended up failing though, and you didn't understand what was going on, neither did he. So now you were stuck in his big, lifeless mansion until he found a resolve. Countless of failed attempts only fueled his irritation, and your only company was that of the twins that worked for him: Kieran and Luke. Unlike Sylus, the men were extroverted, teasing you at any given attempt, brightening your day with their wits, stupidity and smugness.

Ultimately he brought you to a middle aged shopkeeper, ready to use different methods to get the resonation working, not giving a shit about how you felt. He was a heartless man, one that cared about nothing but himself. He was prepared to experiment on you, until the shopkeeper pointed out something that caught his attention. Your evol was linked to your emotions — as long as you had ANY sorts of disgust, hate or uncertainity about the person you want to resonate with, it will not work. You remember the strange look in his eyes, the sigh he let out before nodding and dragging you out of the shop, and the quiet ride back to his house.

From that day on, something in him changed. It was strange. He was the same man as before, just a little bit nicer. He helped you get to the Aether core, protected you, all in his own ways. It was hard to explain what his behaviour did to your heart, because no matter how much you tried to hate him, to push him away, you couldn't.

You went back to Linkon city after finishing up your business, still a little pissed off at the way your and Rafayel's plan took such an unexpected twist. You thought it was gonna be a little fighting, maybe some more, but you never expected to stand eye to eye with the Onychinus' leader. Alongside that, even he wasn't safe to be around. The amount of assassination attempts on him and the rioting within the organisation was baffling to say the least.

TALKING TO SYLUS BECAME part of your daily routine, and you couldn't help but notice the shift in his attitude. It wasn't all too evident, but it was there. He seemed more interested in getting to know you, while maintaining the same, cocky attitude like before. Whenever you guys would see each other face to face, he wasn't as insufferable as he was, and even seemed to turn to physical affection at times.

Sometimes he'd brush aside strands from your face, eyes watching your expressions oh so intently. His fingers would linger on your face, touch warmer than you'd like it to be, sending shivers down your spine. He'd leave soft, heartfelt kisses on your forehead, keep his arm around your waist whenever you went out, and wiped away the food left on the corner of your lips.

The more time passed, the kinder his actions became, and you had a hard time staying away from him. The way he made you feel was special, it felt genuine. But that didn't mean it actually was. Whenever you'd sit cuddled up on his couch, his arms wrapped around your waist, your head seated in the crook of his neck as the faint sounds of the television could be heard in the background, your mind wandered in places it shouldn't. It would wonder just how much of this he meant, just how far he was willing to go to emotionally manipulate you to give him access to the resonation.

Those thoughts always haunted you, turning your mood sour. Deep down you hoped they wouldn't be true, but he was Sylus, the fearless leader of the Onychinus. The man that wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty, the man that would do anything in his power to get what he wants.

So, you distanced yourself.

SYLUS COULDN'T UNDERSTAND WHY you were acting the way you were. Everything was perfect until now, so what made you take three steps back and resume the cold, dismissive attitude? Each attempt at affection got brushed off, each compliment got ignored, and quality time got shut off.

The silver haired male liked pretending that he didn't care about her attitude. That she was just another prey he should discard of soon, but he couldn't. He cared for her to the point his heart ached watching her be so distant. These stupid feelings were driving Sylus crazy, he had to do something about them.

You didn't expect Sylus to call you to his room in the middle of the night. The place was off limits, the only time you managed to catch a glimpse of it was when you tried to locate the brooch he challenged you to find.

The door creaked open, and there he was, sitting on the edge of his bed, his exposed chest bathing in the moonlight that somehow managed to bring out every detail more perfectly. You closed the door behind you, standing a safe distance from the man before he gestured for you to come closer.

"Yes, Sylus. Did you need anything?"

"I certainly do. Won't you come a little closer?"

You couldn't tell what was going on, but there was nothing you could do. Nodding, you walked towards him, stopping right in front of the Onychinus' leader. He looked up, patting his thigh.

"Huh?"

"Are you stupid or what?"

Your cheeks heated up at his words, gulping as you oh so slowly took a seat on his lap. He wasted no time snaking one arm around your waist, while he turned his chin towards you with his other hand.

"What's up with you, sweetie?" He asked. You couldv'e sworn there was a hint of concern lacing his voice, but nothing else could betray any trace of emotions on his face.

"[name], I'm talking to you." He insisted, brows furrowing at your attempts to look away from him. "Sorry Sylus I'm.. tired?" you replied, trying to get out of the unfortunate situation, but he wasn't having it.

"I wasn't born yesterday. Tell me what is going on this instant." He said sternly, his crimson eyes piercing into your own [eyecolor] ones, swallowing you whole. You thought of the last thing that could help your case. Your hand grabbed his from your chin and intertwined your fingers.

"We should resonate now!" You suggested, ready to distract him with the one thing you knew he wanted. But before you knew it, your back hit the soft matress of his bed and he was hovering over you, seated in between your legs with a disapproving scowl on his face as everything got pieced together.

"So that's what it is hm?" He said, voice dropping dangerously low as his lips grazed your ear. "You silly girl, getting worked up over nothing." His warm breath sent jolts down your spine.

Sylus couldn't believe such unnecessary thoughts crossed your mind. Yes, he had to admit, at first he only cared about resonating with you. But over time, he grew to care for you, and his intentions were honest. The thought of hurting you made his stomach twist and turn. Hell, who cared if it took years for you guys to resonate, as long as you were by his side that was enough!

He watched your expressions oh so intently, the way your lips parted slightly and gasps escaped your lips as his hand traced down your body. "I..it's true though! Why else would y—" "Did I give you permission to complain, hm?" You gasped when his hand slipped under your shirt, palming your bare skin, his touch electrifying and warm. "You still don't believe me? Very well."

YOU DON'T KNOW HOW much time had passed since those words had left Sylus' lips. You felt feverish, and the hot touch of his fingers tracing your body wasn't helping with it at all. You were almost fully exposed to him, his eyes feasting on your beautiful body, drinking in every nook and cranny. He left trails of open mouth kisses and marks on your neck, collarbone and dangerously close to your chest. You were a whining mess as his calloused hands squeezed the soft skin of your breasts, groping and playing with them as he pleased. His mouth wrapped around one of the nipples, tongue swirling around it until the little sensitive bud was hardened and sensitive before he let go of it, the lewd little pop making you shut your eyes close.

"Look at how responsive you are.." He whispered, hot breath fanning across your skin as he pried your legs a little more open, dragging your soaked panties down your legs painfully slow. "S..Sylus!" You whined, hand tangled in his hair. "What? I'm just trying to show you some love.." He cooed, almost mockingly. "Can't handle it hm? Shouldn't have had those stupid thoughts. I'm gonna have to fuck those out of you now, don't I?"

His featherlight kisses trailed down your stomach, to your inner thigh. He started marking the skin up, leaving trails of bitemarks and purple in its wake. "Oh, sweetie. You're so wet for me.."

Soon enough you found yourself moaning out his name as his tongue prodded in between your folds, thumb delicately rubbing your clit as he devoured you. The sensation was overwhelingly good, so good to the point you slotted your legs around his head, leaving him no way to escape — not like he minded that though. —

Your whines, the way you tugged at his hair, the desperation in your eyes, it all drove him crazy.

His tongue worked his way, sending the feelingsbof immense pleasure as you blabbered on and on.

"I'm gonna.. Sylus, don't I'm go—" But he had none of that. The male was determined to have you come undone by his tongue, and there was nothing gonna stop him from doing so. He continued his merciless attack on your dripping core, until he felt you reach your release. Satisfied, he licked you clean, licking his lips as he raised his head with a cocky grin playing on his lips. You just stared at him, dumbfounded, cheeks slightly rosy.

"We're not done yet, sweetie." He said as he distanced himself from your naked body, unzipping his pants. You snapped back to reality at the sound of them hitting the ground, eyes widening as you saw his hot, throbbing cock with precum leaking from the tip, eager to devour you once again. "Tsk, tsk. Not like this." He said, clacking his tongue as he lifted you up, sitting down onto the edge of the bed before placing you onto his lap

Your back was flushed against his chest, feeling every little muscle of his solid, chiseled abs. His hardened lenght was in between your legs, throbbing painfully.

His hand reached for your chin, making you face forwards. You were confused at first, before you realized what was in front of you: A full lenght body mirror on his closet's door. The lewd reflection portraying your unholy activities, and the smirk on his face didn't make it any better. He rubbed his cock in between your thighs for some friction, almost desperately before he lifted you you, aligning his member with your dripping, tight cunt.

"Make sure to look, [name]. See what you do to me?" He whispered in your ear, rubbing his reddened tip in between your folds, ocassionally poking at your entrance. "I'll show you just how much I like you, yeah?"

Without further warning he started pushing in, the tightness causing you to hiss and dig your nails into the skin of his thighs that you so desperately clutched onto. He slowly sank you onto his length. Your head leaned back against his shoulder as you tried to adjust to how full you felt, having Sylus balls deep inside you.

"I told you to keep looking, beautiful." He groaned, one hand keeping your face up to look at the mirror while his other rubbed your side, waiting for you to give the start.

Once you finally nodded his hand slid off your chin, using both of them to guide you up and down his cock. The feeling of your warm, gummy walls drove him insane, the way they took on his form, the way they squeezed him so tightly. You were a drooling mess for him, exactly what he wanted. The delicious feeling of his cock kissing your inner parts, hitting the deepest spots.

The sound of skin against skin contact, heavy breathing and murmurs filled the air. It felt overwhelmingly good, his actions and his praise. You were quick to forget any worries about his true intentions once his cock bullied into your sopping wet entrance.

"You're close, aren't you sweetie? 'ts okay, you can cream on my cock, you're doing so good.. so pretty.." He cooed, encouraging you. It wasn't long before you came once again, coating his hard member with your juices. As you rode out your orgasm, he kept pumping into you, groaning and murmuring into your ear about how good you were for him, how you were MADE for him.

"You're gonna let me come inside, won't you?"

"Yes please.." You managed to breath out, feeling his pace fasten. "Good girl.." his words were quickly followed by his release, splurting his hot seed into you, painting your walls white and claiming you whole.

You sank back onto his length, panting, chest heaving with each breath as he pushed away a few strands of your hair from your with sweat coated face.

"Is that enough proof?"

"Yes, Sylus."

"Good.." He replied, smiling softly — something you've rarely seen him do. "Let's stay like this a little."

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope you're having a good day!

Just found your blog yesterday and read Onychinus' Finest. I've been STARVED of Kieran and Luke fics, not enough people appreciate them, so I come with a request! (Most of what I'll say is totally optional. I believe in the author's creative vision overall so if something doesn't fit feel free to change and adapt whatever you'd like.)

Either hunter or assassin MC, where they're at a mission, and they're ambushed. One of the twins gets hurt protecting her, maybe even taken, and she just goes on a rampage to get him back. They've never quite seen her so protective and yet so vengeful. She might go by herself? When Sylus wants to plan ahead properly since his own miscalculations lead them to get attacked in the first place. The twins are loyal to him, the other brother won't go without his permission despise his brother being missing or hurt. I'm just picturing her finding a broken mask, half of it missing (she's never seen their faces before.)

Happy ending. 🥺 Just fluffy you know? I want the twins melting into her, one with gratitude for finding his brother and the other just with disbelief and affection that she's do all this for him.

Special mention to any heads on her lap like overgrown puppies, just holding her close. They're sweet boys I think, especially if their guard and masks are finally down.

You can take this as platonic or romantic, she could be with Sylus and still have grown to really care and look out for the twins, or she could love them. (I don't know which ones angstier)

Thank you for even considering this even if you decide it's not worth your time!

AAAAAAA HEY!! You had such a vision for this and it was so fun to work with-- I hope it's everything you imagined! You've always been so so so supportive and kind, so I low-key went all-out on this, that's half the reason it took so long. 😭😭 Think this is my longest fic so far oh my gosh? Love it though, all the action scenes took me RIGHT back to my Assassin's Creed fanfic writing days haha Anyway! This is set in the same canon as the last fic because I loved that dynamic ngl. Not a direct sequel though!

Beneath The Mask

Luke and Kieran x Reader 🎭

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Sylus and Kieran are useless, as always, so you take matters into your own hands

Genre: angst + fluff + ACTION!! *karate chops*

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, nonMC!reader, platonic Sylus x reader, swearing, descriptions of violence, injury, broken bones, killing (don't @ reader, she wants her man back!!), but also some humour 😌

| Word count: 4.6k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sometimes, you think you’re the only member of Onychinus who isn’t completely out of their mind.

You’d think it was Sylus, your indomitable leader. Smiles-with-a-knife-at-his-throat Sylus. Has-the-situation-completely-in-hand Sylus. It used to inspire you: that crimson gaze of his, always alight with a fire that’s never, ever, quite out of control.

How does he do it? You’d wonder in awe, like a wide-eyed child enthralled by a magic trick.

How does he do it? You’re wiser, now. You know it’s a lie, now, but you still can’t see through it. It’s driving you mad.

You watch as the man works away at a large, glass monitor, his fingers gliding across the screen with their usual grace. You get glimpses: names, faces, contacts. He’s testing the cords of his network— an intricate web— and he’s hoping someone’s caught something he can sink his teeth into.

He’s been at this for two hours, ever since you dragged yourselves back here with your tails between your legs. There’s a gash on his forehead that hasn’t yet healed, and the blood is still drying, dark on his face. Has he thought to heal it? Or— there’s a smudge on his finger— does he like his guilt a little warmer to the touch?

“We need an order, boss,” you seethe, because you’re tired of standing beside him, unacknowledged.

“You have your order.” He types out a message. Dismisses another. “Wait.”

“I meant an order that isn’t complete bullshit.”

He shoots you a glance, his eyes embers of warning. “Careful, sweetie. You forget yourself.”

Your fists ball. “Oh, spare me.”

“What would you have me do?” he mutters, gaze returning to the screen. He isn’t rising to the challenge, or should you say— stooping to it. He’s so goddamn noble.

“They have Luke, Sylus.”

“I know.”

“So let’s fucking do something! Let’s go back, let’s get him. They caught us off-guard last time, that’s all. They got their hands on some Ever tech, so what? We know that, now. They don’t stand a chance if we just—”

“Charge in there, guns blazing?” Sylus finishes for you, lips curled in derision.

It sounds stupid out loud, and he wants you to hear it. You do; you don’t care. “We don’t need all of this,” you beseech, your hand waving over the monitor. “We have you, boss.”

“Me?” he chuckles, and it’s so, so bitter.

Is that the guilt you’ve been looking for? It isn’t enough. His eyes are still pools of calm— spilt blood, unreciprocated. How does he do it?

“We have to do something,” you say limply. “Please, I can’t… I can’t do this, Sylus. All this nothing. Tell me what to do. I’ll go back alone if I have to. Just say the word and I’ll—”

“Look at this,” he interrupts, stepping away from the screen so that you can take his place before it.

It’s an order, even if it isn’t the one you want. You roll your eyes as you obey, and you begin to scour the intel he’s gathered. Eyewitness accounts, rumours, surveillance footage— some courtesy of Mephisto— and it’s all centred around two things. One: the aspiring new gang you’d set out to dismantle earlier, and two: a link to Ever. A solid link to Ever. 

“They didn’t steal Ever’s tech,” you release on a sigh of understanding. “They’re working together.”

“Mmm.” Sylus’s hand clears the screen before you. “We should have known. I should have known.”

Your mind is so caught-up by the revelation that you almost miss the confession.

“This was my mistake,” he continues, watching you. “And you are all my responsibility. Believe me…” He taps the screen and live surveillance footage springs up: an outside view of the compound you’d raided earlier. “I want to burn that place to the ground as much as you do.”

But… “No collateral damage,” you murmur, eyeing the guards on patrol.

“No collateral damage,” Sylus nods. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you, boss.”

And maybe he is burning with just as much anger. Maybe the fear is making his heart drum, and the guilt making his skin crawl. It’s the same, old trick, isn’t it? Done to death:

The mask without a mask— just where does he hide all that?

Maybe he doesn’t.

There’s only so much faith you can have in something you can’t see.

…

Clink.

You slot a bullet into the magazine of your pistol, then follow it up with another. Clink. Then another. Clink. You’ve never relished this quiet— not like Sylus does. To him it’s an art. To you: a chore. You glance about the armoury, and you’ve never resented your shelves of options quite like this before. Antiques. Prototypes. So many means of dealing death.

You’ve never seen the beauty in it, but a shot through the heart means something different to Sylus than it does to the rest of you. It can be intimate. Symbolic. He can die for something, someone, and he can do it over, and over, and over again. How poetic.

You holster your loaded weapon, then reach for another.

“What’re you doing?”

The voice makes you jump. “Gods, Kieran. You want a bullet through your head?”

“No.” He misses the meaning of your words. “Why— wanna shoot me?”

“Right now?” you ask cynically.  

He laughs like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Liar. You’ve finished loading the second gun so you slide it across the table to him wordlessly. The beak of his mask lowers as he regards it; he doesn’t pick it up.

“You’re being weird,” he says after a moment. “It’s cool. I like it.”

You roll your eyes, wandering over to a rack of weapon attachments. There are different sights. Silencers. (Is that how you want to play this? Quiet?) “I’m going back for Luke,” you state as you muse it over. “You want in, or not?”

The rest is implied: Sylus doesn’t know. He isn’t coming. All of that’s evident from the fact that you’re here, rifling through his precious collection, and not ensnared in the tendrils of his Evol somewhere. A toddler could connect the dots. Kieran will get there. Give him a minute.

It takes half a minute. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. An ambiguous apology.

“It’s fine, Kieran.” He was never going to come with you. “I can do this alone. I can—”

A weight lands on you, tackling you into the weapons rack, and you land on the floor amongst the attachments you’d just been perusing so calmly. The weight stays on you, pinning you: hands are on your wrists, twisting you around. “Kieran!” you protest.

The man pulls away, leaving you slumped in your new, uncomfortable seat.

“Wha—” You try to stand up but you’re jolted back; your wrist is fixed to something. You turn your head, eyes widening as they fall on the pair of handcuffs you’ve been restrained with. They’re padded— lined with a soft, velvety material. “Where the hell did you get these?”

“Boss’s room. Luke and I had a bet,” Kieran shrugs, now towering over you.

“You win?”

“Heh. Yeah.”

You’re still trying to squeeze your hand out of the cuffs. You pry at them. Twist and wriggle your fingers— none of it’s any use. You glance up at Kieran, admitting defeat with a sigh. He brushes his hands together in a ‘job well done’ sort of gesture, his eyes fixed on you, well— you have to imagine they are.

Instead of windows to the soul you’re faced with red-glass imitations, impossible to read, and you’re tired of all the guessing.  

“How do you do it?” you ask with a quiet desperation. “How do you act like everything’s fine?”

“Boss will come up with a plan,” the twin says simply, like he hasn’t really thought about it.

“And what if it takes too long? What if we’re too late? I mean… think of all the shit he knows, Kieran. Everything about us, about boss— it’s priceless. Do you really think they’re holding back?”

Kieran huffs. “You worried he’ll snitch or something?”

“I’m worried they’re hurting him!” you snap. “What the hell is wrong with you!? He’s your brother! He could be dead and you’re acting like, like..”

Your voice trails off as you gaze up at him hopelessly. There’s nothing to see— no tension in his body, no harsher rise and fall to his chest, betraying a nervous, racing heart. All the usual signs are missing. He isn’t shifting on his feet like he does when he’s anxious. Is he that good at pretending, or…

Does he really not care?

You shake your head, looking down at the floor; you’re so sick of red eyes. He’s crazy. Sylus is crazy.

There’s nothing for it, then.

“You know what?” you chuckle dryly, under your breath. “Maybe you’re right. This isn’t all bad, I mean… when’s the last time you and I had any one-to-one time, huh?”

Kieran is silent. He lowers himself slowly until he’s crouched before you— forearms resting on his knees. His head tilts inquisitively: Go on.

“Maybe,” you lilt, “this is an opportunity.” You’re practically whispering, and the man leans in, not wanting to miss a word. Your free hand reaches for a horn of his hood and you use it to pull him closer; he doesn’t even resist. “How about we…” you speak into his ear, “go look through Luke’s stuff?”

Kieran draws back, those false eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes you think, for a second, that you’ve gone too far.

“You’re the best,” he breathes out, suddenly fiddling with the handcuffs, slotting the key into the lock. “Just… the absolute best.”  

Got him.

The cuff springs open and you’re on top of him, tackling him to the ground and pinning his arms by the side of his head before he can think to stop you. “Oh,” he grumbles, going still beneath you, and it sounds like his eyes are narrowing, “you’re not the best. You’re sneaky.”

His compliance lasts all of a second, and then he’s fighting back— using his strength to throw you off balance and wrench his wrists free. He rolls on top of you, trapping you just as effectively as you’d done him, and he laughs like a child, having ever so much fun.

With a grunt of effort, you manage to push him aside. You turn onto your stomach, scrabbling away as you look for space, opportunity, and— if you’re being honest— something you can throw at him. A hand connects with your shoulder and you thrust your elbow backwards on instinct. It hits something hard.

“Ah, shit! Wait, wait, wait… time out.”

You freeze instantly.

Kieran’s voice is different; it’s acquired a clarity that tells you his mask his away from his face. Don’t move. You stare down at the floor with a patience that’s almost sacred. He’s taking a while, though…

“You ok?” you ask.

“Yeah.” His voice is different again, like he’s holding his nose. “Nosebleed.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

You sit up with your legs crossed while you wait, but your eyes are still trained downwards. You can hear Kieran’s breath, a little ways behind you— so much clearer without the mask— and the intimacy is always sobering. Realising he’s vulnerable, knowable, and all you have to do is turn around. 

He doesn’t rush, though: doesn’t scramble to pull the mask back down, or insist you keep looking away. The silence, the stillness— all of it is trust.

There’s movement in the corner of your eye; he’s set the mask down on the ground while he bleeds.

“I’m worried too,” he admits softly, and you’re not sure what’s more foreign: his voice, unhindered, or the honesty it carries. You don’t want to scare either away, so you do nothing. There’s more: “I can’t leave boss, though. Who else has he got?”

“The hunter?”

“Nah,” he dismisses. “She’s hot stuff, y’know? A lot of players in that game.” He taps at his mask idly. “Heard one of them’s a doctor.”

You’re quiet again. Thinking.

“Boss always has our back,” Kieran asserts. “We have to look out for him too… That’s the job, right?”

He’s not really asking you; you came to this late, after all. It was their job long before it was yours.

You’ve nothing to do but look at your hands and listen, biding your time. The passing seconds are still restless, useless, but the sensation slips when you feel hands on your waist, pulling you back. Kieran’s arms wrap around you. His chin settles on your shoulder, and you close your eyes.

“Stay,” he says. “Please?”

His pain is harder to sit with than your own. Minutes ago, this was something you wanted. Now it’s just another wound you don’t know how to stitch up; too deep, too late.

You let your head rest against his, but you don’t say a word.

…

This was easier when you were relying on Mephisto’s guidance and not hazy, disjointed memories. The last time you were here you were running, Kieran at your side and Sylus not far ahead. You weren’t thinking about what corners you turned or what directions you travelled; you were thinking about everything behind you. Shouts. Gunshots. The subtler rush of your leader’s Evol, still crackling, still faltering, courtesy of whatever technology your attackers had managed to appropriate.

It all happened so quickly.

Every corridor feels longer, now. Each moment— slow. Your body is aching. You’ve lost count of how many encounters you’ve had, but there’s a new bruise or scrape for every body in your wake. None of it has been easy. You ran out of bullets just getting inside this damn place, and the rest has been messier: up-close and personal.

You’re catching your breath, so you toe the rifle of your last adversary, lying a short way from their limp, open hand. They never got a chance to use it, and you were lucky; it would have been loud. Every guard in this run-down labyrinth is looking for you. The last thing you need is to send out a homing beacon.

Glance around. Try to work out your bearings.

This was once a police station. Old-world. Eroded beyond recognition, almost. These places were the first to fall victim to the backwards evolution of the N109 Zone. The bones are the same, but the skin is different. Every wall is scrawled with anti-Association sentiments.

It makes you smile, despite everything.

Your footsteps are deliberately quiet as you carry on down the corridor, turning into the next room— you’ve been tackling them one-by-one. There’s a narrower corridor before the room opens out, and then…

Cells.

A short line of them— five in total. Your heart wants to beat faster with hope, but your mind is holding it back: insisting this is wrong. It seems abandoned. Forgotten. You walk by the first cell, and then the second. Nothing. The third. Nothing.

There’s a sound behind you, and you almost don’t hear it. You spin, only to find a hand wrapped around your throat, tight and unforgiving. A guard thrusts you up against the red-brick column that divides two cells, and you’d cry out in pain, but there’s no breath to carry it. Your eyes water. You try to prise the hand away, and it’s desperation that possesses you— not skill or experience.

You kick out and hit nothing, but the second time, you catch the man’s shin. He shouts, his grip failing just enough for you to slip your fingers beneath his. A few seconds of advantage. You grasp his wrist, using your other hand to wrench his forefinger backwards— crack. He staggers with a cry and then you’re dodging his frenzied attempts to recapture you: weaving behind him, seizing the back of his neck. Your foot trips his. He’s teetering, off-balance, and you use the momentum to crash his head against a bar of the cell.

Metal rings out. Flesh splits.

The guard crumples at your feet and you almost go down with him. Your lungs are pulling for so much air that it makes your throat sting. Adrenaline laps your limbs, celebrating in sheer, ecstatic disbelief; you’re alive.

Someone wolf-whistles and you swear you feel everything stop.

Your gaze shoots up, lit by hope, but it’s quickly snuffed out. A young man is watching you from the fourth cell, his arms threaded through the bars. There’s a shameless grin as his eyes flit over you. All of you.

“Fuck off,” you sneer as you step over the guard. You turn to leave.

“Rude.”

Your eyes go wide. You spin back. “Luke?”

The man cocks his head like you’ve asked a trick question. “... Yeah?” It takes a drawn-out moment of you staring at him, motionless, for him to recognise your confusion. “Oh, right. Here—” he draws up his hood and the horns are missing, so he emulates them with pointed fingers— “this help?”

You lunge forwards, trapping him in a hug through the bars of his cell; you barely notice the separation. He chuckles as he hugs you back: “Miss me?”

“Yeah,” you exhale in relief, even though he was definitely setting you up for a joke. You break away from him, forcing yourself to look at anything but his face. Gods, his face. Pretend you don’t already want to look again. “Are you hurt?” you ask. “Did they—”

“Nope!” he interrupts with what sounds like a smile. “I told them everything.”

You glance up; you can’t help it.

He winks at you. “I lied. Glad you got here before they figured that out, though. Sheesh, that would not have been fun.” His hands wrap around the bars. “Can you get me out of here?” He tugs at them. “Pleeease?”

Right. “Yeah.” You glance around. You just need to find the—

“Key’s with the dead guy,” Luke says. “What a jerk, huh?”

It still feels like there are hands on your throat. “Totally.” You wander over to the body, bending down to rummage through the man’s pockets. After a brief search, you produce the key.

Luke slow claps. “My hero.”

You laugh softly as you return to the cell, unlocking the door and pushing it open. The twin strides through, giving a little bow as he passes, then stretches his arms like he’s just been set free from a much smaller cage.

“So…” He speaks in a sing-song sort of voice, sniffing the air like it’s sweeter. “Where’re boss and Kieran?”

“Um. Home?”

Luke narrows his eyes at you— vaguely resembling the slits of his missing mask. “You went rogue?”

You wince. “I did go rogue.”

You’re still being studied warily. Luke has raised an eyebrow and it’s so starkly expressive; is this a look he gives you often? You have a feeling it is. Then he shrugs and it’s gone. “That’s hot,” he quips. He crouches down beside the dead guard, lifting the body and puppeteering one of the arms to wave at you. “Look— this is gonna be you when boss finds out.”

You cross your arms. Luke laughs, dropping the man back down with a thud. “Just you and me then?” he clarifies, holding a hand out to you.

Are you supposed to know what to do with it? “You and me,” you confirm. Your hand goes out too.  

Luke slaps it gently one way, then another. He entangles your fingers. Pulls back. Does a few more slaps in sporadic directions, and— is this a secret handshake? You don’t have a secret handshake.

“Nice,” he beams once the ritual is complete. “Let’s go, let's go!”

…

Luke is hanging close to the wall across from you, waiting— listening— as you both brace yourselves behind the turn of yet another corridor of the rival base. He sneaks glances around the corner.

“Anyone there?” you whisper.

He shakes his head, but he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t press on, either, because it’s odd; you’d both thought you’d heard something. This isn’t your usual strategy— playing it safe. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke err on the side of caution, but he’s concentrating, even closing his eyes so he can listen harder.

You take advantage of the moment in a way you shouldn’t: letting your gaze linger on his face. Even with his hood up— shadows lowered like a veil— he’s still a stranger to you. You want to know him; you know him already. He’s been smiling at your jokes forever, but tell him one now, and it’ll be the first time.

His eyes open, meeting yours. Could he sense you watching? He grins, poking his tongue out at you.

“Stop it.”

“You stop it,” he retorts. The coast must be clear, for he comes away from the wall and rounds the corner with a spring in his gait.

You sigh as you stand to follow him. One less-enthusiastic step forward, and something snakes around your ankle. Your gaze drops like a stone, but it isn’t fast enough. You’re hauled into the air, voice failing, vision swimming as the world flips upside-down and you’re strung up from the ceiling. “Luke!” you manage in warning.

Are those his footsteps, coming back? You’re facing the wrong way and you try to lift the lower half of your body so you can reach for your ankle, but you’re already exhausted. Your muscles burn. After a few, futile inches, you give up, going limp.

There are footsteps behind you. “Oh, hey boss!” Luke exclaims.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

An unwitting pendulum: you can’t keep your body from turning, ever so slowly, until you’re staring the right way down the corridor. You can’t see much of it, though.

Sylus is in front of you, so close that you can almost feel the heat of his eyes.

“Hey, boss,” you echo reluctantly.

He says nothing, and behind him, Luke slides a gloating finger across his own throat: you’re dead! And you’re turning, still. Sylus lifts a hand to the top of your head and swivels you back to him. “What happened to that trust of yours, sweetie? Hmm?”

You half-laugh, nervous. He doesn’t seem quite as amused.

Releasing your head, he steps back with a huff of disappointment as you start a slow rotation once more. He taps a finger to his chin pensively, like you’re a masterpiece he’s convinced might be a forgery, now that he’s looking more closely. “Reckless little thing, aren’t you?” he tuts.

There’s maybe a smile, but it’s short-lived; the dark rope around your ankle whips you into the air. You shriek with shock as you lose all bearings, all vision, all sense of reality. You’re falling.

Someone catches you.

“My reckless little thing,” Luke grins, jostling you into a more secure position in his arms. “Mine.”

You want to protest, but your breath is gone.

“You can’t afford her,” Sylus speaks over his shoulder; he’s already taken the lead in guiding you out of here. Mephisto squawks somewhere up ahead, appearing in a cloud of smoke and feathers.

Luke gives a defensive hmph as he holds you tighter. Then he smiles down at you, and though it’s new, you know it’s far from the first time, and even further from the last.

…

“Are we really doing this?” you ask Sylus sceptically.

“Lighten up, sweetie.” He clicks his fingers.

Not far from you, currently oblivious to your presence, Kieran stands at the door of your leader’s study, still waiting for an order. The air above him changes: it swirls with a dark, scarlet mist. Luke drops out of it, landing straight on his twin’s back.

“What the—” Kieran splutters, but his brother’s arms are over his shoulders, around his neck. “Get off!” he squeaks out.

“No way. I was a prisoner,” Luke chortles. “You have to be super nice to me. Carry me everywhere. Boss said so.”

“He did not!”

And with those words, Kieran flips his other half the rest of the way over his shoulder; Luke lands on the ground with an unceremonious splat. All four limbs are sprawled. “Ow!” he whines.

Sylus has already strode the rest of the way into the room. “Play nice,” he scolds as he steps over Luke, then passes by Kieran.

“Yes, boss!” they chime, stilling obediently as the older man disappears into his study. The moment the doors close behind him, Kieran throws himself down. He wrestles with Luke, both of them laughing and rolling around as they try to hurt each-other.

It makes you think of those old, vintage cartoons you used to see on TV. You can just picture the cloud of dust, the colourful stars and shapes flying with every traded punch. Idiots.

You leave them to it, slinging yourself down on a couch and closing your eyes. Gods, you want to sleep. There’s blood dried to your hands and face, but you’ll shower later. There are grazes and cuts still bleeding, but you’ll tend to them later. Everything can wait.

The room has gone quiet. Too quiet; you open your eyes.

Luke and Kieran stand in front of you ominously, their figures symmetrical. The illusion of reflection is broken by Luke’s absent mask, but his eyes are just as unreadable.

“What?” you cave.

“You went rogue,” Kieran states, and his brother is nodding gravely, like this is a very serious infraction.

You smile. “I did go rogue.” More shameless than last time. “I got a free pass, though. Luke said it was hot.”

Kieran’s mask turns to face his twin, slow and resentful. Luke shrugs. “What? It was.”

There’s an impasse: long enough to make you think they’re having some kind of secret discussion. Both twins look at you. You smile sheepishly. You don’t think you’ll ever really know the entirety of what goes on in those heads, but it’s for the best. You value your sanity.

“You went rogue,” Kieran carries on, as if his speech had never been interrupted, and his authority not just completely undercut. He moves closer, slinking down beside you, and Luke plays the part of his mirror image. “There will have to be a… punishment.”

The word is elongated for effect, and it’s remarkably similar to Kieran’s ‘ghost voice’— which you know, thanks to the time he roped you into that ‘the base is haunted!’ prank. (Sylus did not, in fact, fall for it.)

“Bring it,” you murmur, closing your eyes again. “I just stormed a whole enemy base single-handed. I think I can handle the two of—”

Your voice meanders to a stop as Kieran nuzzles against you. His mask is off; you feel the soft of his face and the bridge of his nose. His breath is light on your neck. You smile, slipping deeper into your seat and then his embrace as his arms go around you. He’s warm. Really warm.

There’s a weight— Luke’s head on your lap— and he hugs you too, arms lower around your waist. His breath tickles your stomach. You hum in contentment, running your hands through his hair. 

He's safe. You're all safe.

They were never going to say thank you; it’s not in their nature. Their language isn't superficial. It isn’t words spoken aloud or feelings worn on the face— it can’t be. A smile is too easily read by the rest of the world, but a smile behind a mask? It’s private. Reserved only for those who’ve learnt to hear it in your voice, or see it in the way your body relaxes when you hold someone you care for.

A language of tiny, intimate details.

Kieran has never nestled his face quite so closely against you. You don’t think you’ve ever known Luke go so long without talking.