#lads onychinus base

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Onychinus Base (Part 2)

Location: N109 Zone

Details:

The rest of the known information about the base was covered in Part 1. In this post, we'll cover everything we know about Sylus' bedroom (which is surprisingly a lot!) and wrap up with my theorized floorplan. A majority of this information came from Sylus' "Midnight Stealth" Memory.

I've split the room into the following sections for clarity:

The Bedroom Entrance

The Fireplace Side

The Shelf Side

The Bed Side

The theorized floorplan will be at the end of this post.

The Bedroom Entrance:

The entrance of the bedroom is shown a couple of times throughout "Midnight Stealth". When the protaganist first enters, we see a space to her right and the shower/bathroom beyond it. Directly in front of it is a black and red rug. To its right, we can see a perch for Mephisto and a small chest on the floor. If you look closely, you can see the backs of two mirrors just ahead of the perch.

In a few different scenes, we get glimpses of the bedroom door. Combining the details shown is how I constructed the sketch of the door included in the floorplan section.

The Fireplace Side:

When she rummages through Sylus' bedside table, we can see Mephisto's perch in the foreground, the edge of a black and gold chair, and a potted plant (top). Later in the memory, when she ambushes him in his sleep, the panning shot shows that there's a fireplace and two chairs between the bed and the shower (bottom). In the bottom right image, you can see the corner of both the bathroom/shower rug as well as the chest placed beside it.

The Shelf Side:

This side of the room is shown in the Main Story as a background shot (top). When it's shown in "Midnight Stealth" (bottom), the only major differences are a dresser added beside the couch and a table where the Main Story had placed a lamp. On this table is a telephone.

(Sylus' room is so dark and shadowy. For that reason, the bottom left image is an unaltered screenshot while the bottom right image has been brightened)

When Sylus is shown reading, we can see a black painting with a red square in the background (left). This same painting is shown when he is selecting a record from his collection (top right). When he turns around to use the record player, we can see the top of a plant just around the corner (bottom right).

The Bed Side:

When Sylus is shown dusting a shelf, we can see the previously mentioned potted plant to its left. To its right is a table with another plant (top).

And in the ambush scene, when both of them are on the bed, we get a glimpse of a potted on the other side of the bed (bottom).

(Again, the images on the right side are unaltered while the one on the left have been brightened)

When Sylus sits up, we can see a blurred view of the shelf he was dusting before (left). It is placed just past the foot of the bed.

In both the panning shot from the ambush scene (top right) and when they are both on the bed (bottom right), we can see a window on the other side of Sylus' bed.

Theorized Floorplan:

Phew, that was a lot 😮‍💨😂 But thanks to all of that, I was able to map out his whole bedroom

And based on the images below (top), I was able to sketch what the bedroom door potentially looks like (bottom).

Outside his bedroom is yet another room, but I've reached my image limit for this post. So I guess that means, part 3?

[downbad4sylus]

“I killed you”

synopsis: After spending the day with Sylus, the energy linkage binding you appears just when you were about to leave for the night, so you stay and fall asleep in Sylus’s bed only to have your past life finally catch up to you.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationship; angst but happy ending; sort of cliff-hanger; vaguely proofread

word count: ~1.8k

a/n: been lurking in the LADS tag for ages now and finally got around to making an account so this is my first ever fic!!! i have a part 2 in the works if people want to see where the story goes after it ends but either way, hope you guys like it :)

You and Sylus had been spending quite a bit of time together lately. Ever since returning from the grasslands, you both stayed true to your promise to be more upfront and honest about what you wanted. And you both wanted to be near each other.

Whether it was Sylus helping with one of your missions or you accompanying him to his many auctions. Or something much simpler, like him dropping by your apartment in Linkon when he “happened to be in the area” or you visiting the Onychinus base in the N109 Zone because you also “happened to be in the area.” Either way, you’d been at the other’s side more often than not these days, which had a certain energy linkage making a reoccurring appearance as well.

The linkage appeared nearly every time you were with Sylus now, particularly when one of you was about to depart, the linkage stopping you from separating. You and Sylus had adopted a common practice of holding hands when linked, under the pretense it was just “easier” that way, not at all that either of you actually wanted to hold the other’s hand. No, nothing as silly as that.

Tonight had been no different.

You’d gone over to the base in the morning on a rare day off, expecting to find Sylus asleep but was pleasantly surprised when he was the one to answer the door.

“Morning sweetie,” he’d greeted with his signature smirk.

“Sylus? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you’d asked, cocking your head as you stared up at him.

“I have some business to deal with during the day today,” he’d explained, ushering you into the base with a warm hand on the small of your back. “And lucky me, a certain kitten has come to accompany me.”

That was how you got roped into spending the day hopping from deal to deal with Sylus, clad in a dress he already had prepared for you to match his suit. But you didn’t mind, not one bit, you appreciated any time you got to spend with Sylus.

Ever the gentleman, Sylus took you to an expensive dinner once the deals were complete, ordering anything you so much as glanced at off the menu. He loved to spoil you, loved the little crease between your brows even more when you insisted he was going overboard. But as he always did, he told you he had more money than he knew what to do with, money he wanted to shower you in, and you were just going to have to get used to it.

By the time you returned to the base—and taken the shower Sylus wisely suggested—it was late, and you were exhausted. Sylus offered to drive you home himself, saying he’d have Luke and Kieran drop off your bike tomorrow, but you insisted the roads would be clear this time of night so it would be a quick ride back to Linkon. You didn’t really want to go though, and you would’ve stayed had you not had work in the morning.

Of course, a cheeky energy linkage had other plans.

Sylus leaned against the doorway, watching you as you turned away from him to head for your bike, only for your arm to jerk back suddenly.

He caught you before you could fall, your back flush with his broad chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist. Without a word, he lifted his other hand to which your own hand followed, the gold linkage shimmering in the moonlight.

“Guess you’re calling out of work,” he chuckled.

This shouldn’t have surprised you, not with the current track record, and honestly, you weren’t mad at all. Not when you were cuddled up to Sylus’s side in his bed, your linked hands entwined in the little space between you, already drifting off to sleep after an eventful day.

…

You were dreaming…

Dreaming about false accusations. About an Abyss, sealed beneath a fiend-filled city. About gold and treasure. About a dragon.

Your dragon.

You were dreaming about Sylus, a dragon with a human form. About a life spent in exile with him, raiding and pillaging, taking from others to hoard for yourselves.

You were dreaming about falling in love with your dragon. Teaching him about human love and compassion. Only to be torn apart by a curse.

You were dreaming…

No.

You were remembering.

You didn’t know how you knew it, but deep in your soul you knew this other life with Sylus was not simply conjured by your subconscious.

And the worst memory was saved for last.

On the day you were to be executed, when your dragon swooped in and killed your accusers. When you thought you’d be able to embrace your dragon one last time, and instead drove a claymore straight through his chest.

You lived through the last time you and Sylus flew through the skies, of him using the last of his strength to bring you to the field of datura flowers you’d both only dreamed of.

You lived through clutching your beloved dragon, pleading with him not to leave you, but he’d died in your arms and disintegrated into ash.

…

You woke abruptly, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. You threw off the arm Sylus had slung over your waist in his sleep and forced him onto his back as you straddled his waist, ripping his robe open to reveal his chest. In the sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains, you saw Sylus’s bare chest, free of scales, no red pattern etched into his skin, no red gem at the center of his chest, and most importantly, no claymore.

Sylus, who had been startled awake by your sudden manhandling, stared up at you with wide eyes, watching as tears streamed down your cheeks and onto the chest your gaze was locked on.

“Sweetie,” he murmured, raising a hand to brush the hair out of your face.

Your eyes snapped to his. “I killed you,” you whispered.

His hand froze midair.

It couldn’t be.

“I killed you,” you repeated, no less quiet but far more anguished.

You remembered.

Sylus couldn’t believe it, you actually remembered.

He’d long given up hope of you recalling the past you shared with him, and, if he was being honest with himself, was glad you didn’t. He was happy with you as you were now, not much different than when he knew you then. Your time together did not end happily and the last thing he wanted was for you to go through such heartbreak again. Yet here you were, doing exactly that.

Sylus broke free of his stupor and wrapped his arms securely around you, hauling you into his lap as he sat up against the headboard. You buried your face in his neck, racked with heart-wrenching sobs.

“How could you make me do that?” you wailed, clutching his robe so hard your knuckles were white.

Sylus rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I had to,” he answered, his voice rough as he too remembered that fateful day. “I couldn’t let you die, but had we both lived, you would’ve succumbed to the curse with me. I couldn’t let that happen, you didn’t deserve that.”

“But it meant I lost you, Sylus!” you cried.

He hugged you closer to him. “I know, Y/N, and I’m so sorry.”

It was all he could offer you. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, what he’d taken from you, that he’d left you alone. But his words were true, he’d rather die than you fall to the curse alongside him. You saved his life with half your soul, the least he could do was spare you from his fate.

That was what love was, wasn’t it? Sacrifice. He’d fall on the sword a hundred times over if it meant saving you, his beloved. You were everything to him, his reason for living, breathing.

Sylus sat, holding you tight while you mourned a lifetime’s worth of love and loss, until your sobs quieted and your short breaths were warm against his neck.

You traced a finger along his collarbone, dipping down into the center of his chest where the red gem once rested. “Sylus.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“If I told you I loved you, would you make me kill you again?”

His heart stopped, though he couldn’t tell if it was because you all but confessed your love for him or if it was from the thought of you having to take his life again.

Sylus recovered quickly however, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary stress. “The curse died with the dragon,” he said softly. “The only one that remains is your own, sweetie.”

You were quiet for a beat. “The one where you’re tied to me? Where only I can grant you a true death?”

“Yes, that one.”

You nodded.

Pieces were clicking into place for you. Everything Sylus had done when you first met, down the what he’d said, it was to jog your memory. He just wanted you to remember him. No wonder he’d treated you like that, he was trying to provoke the old you. It broke your heart realizing that you hadn’t remembered him, that it probably broke his.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, choking on a sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Sylus said firmly.

“I didn’t remember you,” you protested weakly.

“I know, sweetie, and it’s okay,” he assured gently.

You shook your head, your chest aching at his gentle tone. Despite not remembering him, Sylus still wanted to spend time with you, to get to know this you. He didn’t have to make an effort, but he still wanted you. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like him. To have fallen in love not once but twice with a man who’d sacrifice himself in order to save you.

You lifted your head and gazed into those beautiful, gem-like eyes. “Sylus?”

His own gaze didn’t waver from yours. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Is there a field of flowers near the N109 Zone that we could visit tomorrow?” you asked.

Sylus’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but then his full lips lifted into a smile. “Not in the N109 Zone, but close enough to drive to. Can I know why you’re asking?”

A smile teased your own lips. “I’d like to bring our dream to reality, if that’s all right with you.”

Sylus reached up, finally brushing that strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “It’s more than all right with me.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, the meaning no longer lost to you. “Sleep now, we can go in the morning.”

[janumun]

A Relentless Conquest (LaDS Sylus - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 10.7k Pairing: Sylus/Reader

Tags: dueling (Sylus fighting), semi-public sex, oral and vaginal sex, Sylus’s brand of manhandling, dry humping, praising, dirty talk, rough sex, wander in wonder AU/historical AU, based in ancient Mongolia, creampie, size difference, mild rich/poor class power dynamics

Summary: What happens when you end up catching the unwanted attentions of a sleazy magistrate on a day out in town? A duel for your honor — or lifelong imprisonment — is what awaits you. That is, until Sylus, leader of the exceedingly notorious Onychinus gang, and a man you dub reluctantly, an old acquaintance, intervenes and offers the immoral magistrate a deal he cannot refuse.

[A fic where Sylus engages in a precarious duel in order to free you from the clutches of a corrupt high official; wins the duel AND the prize at stake, you.]  

Author’s Notes: The things the Wander in Wonder trailer did to me were unspeakable, I had to get started on this fic right away. Another long monstrosity so it took me quite a while to hammer it out smoothly. Some terms used within, to note: *tögrögs is an old Mongolian currency and *Lungtang is the Mongolian city used loosely within this fic’s setting, as per Sylus’s alleged outfit inspiration drawn from the Mongol’s hunting fit in the current event, “Wander in Wonder” . An amazing twitter thread for the rest of the inspirations drawn for the boys’ outfits can be found here. 

Link to Ao3

Perhaps you should’ve considered your course of action through before you’d tossed yourself voluntarily into the metaphorical den of lions. Caleb did always tease you for your often impudent ways, declaring you’d get yourself into hot water someday.   

You didn’t quite think past saving the small, unfortunate child in front, when he’d careened straight into the Magistrate, staining the sickly bone white of his gaudy robes with the treat he’d been brandishing in hand. An action of careless innocence that could’ve saddled the boy with a severe punishment of thrashings at best. And at worst —   

You didn’t even wish to entertain the horrifying notion.   

You whisper a quick note of warning to the trembling child in your arms before he’s nodding his assent, making a clean dash away from the Magistrate and his burly procession of hired cronies. They do not move to stop him; the official’s beady eyes sweeping cursory across his fleeing figure before he focuses upon you once more.   

“Well then, speak up, girl. How do you plan on making up for the crimes of the filthy criminal you just let escape?” He leers at you, sending a frisson of disgust through your veins. “I do not mind much, provided you are able to compensate me in full.” He holds up two thick, swollen fingers. “two thousand tögrögs.” Your stomach revolts in near horror at the exorbitant price he names.   

“Speak, lass, do you possess the means to compensate me?”  

“...Apologies, Sire, I do not.”  

The Magistrate clicks his tongue at you, as if that son of a cur had not already anticipated your answer; your garb alone giving away your status as a mere commoner while he stood, a tall, foolish braggart of a Magistrate, who’d been a constant source of worry amongst the townsfolk as of late. “What a pity. I guess we shall have to make you pay off with what you do have on person, shan’t we?”   

His eyes rove down the length of your body in a manner greasy enough, it has your fingers itching to claw them out of his skull. Thoughts of the consequences of your actions extending to your family after — your grandmother and Caleb — are what stay your hands, firm by your side. You try and maintain that demure grace firm within your body instead.  

“What else are we to do if she cannot pay for what she has cost me, yes?” The Magistrate flourishes his arms wide and turns, towards the crowd that has gathered to watch, setting the stage for his perverse demands. “An eye for an eye, an honor exchanged for honor; that is the Law of our Lungtang, is it not?”  

None of the commonfolk dare to speak against the tyrant’s words, lest they make of themselves a new target to harass. And you do not blame them either, the burden of your reckless actions, yours to bear alone.   

The man trundles forwards on heavy steps; the large, ugly stain left across his robes growing wider in your lowered line of sight before the expanse of his bloated, sweating hand fills your field of vision. The rings around his fingers, nearly engorging the base of them as he curls his hand about your jaw to heave your gaze up towards him.   

The ugly, toad-like sweep of his tongue against the top row of black and gold teeth has a chill skittering down your spine. “You’re rather lovely, you know that?” He croaks in a low, creeping voice.   

You bite harsh into your bottom lip to revolt against the bile that threatens to reflux past your throat and onto the bastard’s face. “What say you become my whore then, dearest? I’d treat you very...” A slimy slip of the hand down the expanse of your body, to settle at your hip. “ well . And if you please me, you could even climb the ranks and become first Mistress, you know?” You judder at the stench of his breath, nearly in your face now. Unable to help the revulsion he inspires in you and you know; the cur in front takes it for a show of abashed innocence, with the way his leer stretches wider across his face.   

“I am far too plain and discourteous for a man of your stature, my lord. If there is anything else I could do for you in recompense, I would be more than delighted to offer my services.” The words uttered, sit sickly sweet on your tongue. “I have a good arm on me and can do any physical labor you may require of me.”   

The rat makes a show of deliberating your words. “It’s a pity the only ‘physical labor’ I require of you lies within my bed, dear girl.”   

You visibly recoil from his revolting touch at your arm; perhaps you aren’t able to quite keep your emotions from surfacing upon your face this time round as the man grabs at your forearm tighter, gaze darkening in simmering displeasure.   

“You know the law, woman. If you wish to run scot-free without offering anything in return, you must put your life on the line and agree to a duel with the offended party.” He chucks a thick, swollen thumb back at his minions, voice seething into a threatening octave. “And I wouldn’t suggest that unless you want them to crush that pretty face of yours.”  

You consider ending it all; cutting the bastard open for him to choke in a pool of his own gurgling blood. You think you could do it too, before his bodyguards could get to you.  

And with the loss of their Master, they wouldn’t be able to hold you prisoner within the dungeons for too long: you hoped. The stray, wild thought is all you can see within your vision.   

Your hand twitches for the dagger fastened right beneath your satchel, one Caleb had lent you for protection. Fingers barely grazing against the polished hilt of the blade, cobbling together courage to see your mad plan through.   

Before large, thick digits are slipping against yours to halt — a fleeting touch of caution — from behind, fracturing your hasty plan entirely.  

You’re barely able to comprehend the sudden, unnoticed proximity of your interloper, before a great arm is coiling fast about the expanse of your waist, snatching you swift from the Magistrate’s claws and firm against a warm, broad chest.  

“Now, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” The well-known burr, welcome, in that moment stirs joy within your belly as you reach to crane your neck to meet eyes with that familiar scarlet.  

“Sylus.” You croak in near disbelief.   

He exhales, low, against the shell of your ear, before he slowly lets go of you. “I’m away from Lungtang for a mere fortnight, only to find you scrounging for trouble, upon return.”   

Your irritation might’ve flared at his words if not for the phlegmy clearing of the Magistrate’s throat in front.   

“And who do you think you are to touch my property so carelessly, insolent fool?”  

Your ire directed from the man behind to the bastard in front. You feel Sylus’ hand soothe a flex about your shoulder.   

“My bad, honoured Magistrate.” He sweeps an insouciant palm at him, the grin upon his face edged to a dagger’s point. “We did not think you would be gracing Lungtang so soon with your noble presence. Or we might’ve arranged for a far better reception, for your Grace.”  

Each word that slips past Sylus’ lips is a sarcasm heavy barb that turns the official’s face in front purple with each syllable uttered. “That woman owes me, you dog. I shall make her my mistress, as is only fair I extract proper recompense from her for her grave offense.”  

One of the Magistrate’s men behind scamper forward in that moment to whisper urgently into his ear. The official’s eyes nearly burst out of his sockets at whatever he’s learned, wide toady gaze skittering towards Sylus as if he is indeed a rabid beast that would bite if disturbed.   

He thrusts an accusatory finger at him. “You are the Onychinus’ leader.” He spits. “That gang of lawless hounds.”  

Sylus’s mouth quirk into a vicious smile at the allegation. “That I am.”   

“You— you,” The Magistrate seems to sputter for the space of several moments before the man at his side mutters something else into his ear.   

The official straightens at whatever he’s heard, clearing his throat, once. Twice. “I am willing to pardon your crimes.” He begins once more. “Provided you can prove yourself worthy in a duel against one of my men.” The crowd around you breaks into quiet murmurs. “But,” he continues. “if you lose, Onychinus dog, then along with your little woman, you shall give up your life to my service, your autonomous tyranny within these lands shall cease to exist and you shall follow my sole command.” He pauses for a moment’s breath, as if to let the weight of what he believes to have been a devastating challenge, sink in.   

But all he earns from Sylus is a raised brow. “Sounds like a deal. Let us raise the stakes, though, shall we?” He cocks his head at the procession of guards right behind the Magistrate. “I’ll take on all your men, not just your best. Give you a real crutch to get started with.”   

The crowd of onlookers erupts into gasps of surprise and gibbering discussion amidst the concerning blue coloring the Magistrate’s face at the taunt. You desperately clutch at Sylus’s arm. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”  

He meets your wide-eyed panicked gaze with a cool, gentle one of his own. “Calm yourself down, kitten. I’ll be fine.” A large hand, he places gentle at your head in reassurance but all it does instead is send your alarm flaring higher.   

What had you roped the man into? Infuriating though he was. Sylus was a confounding acquaintance of years; you could not help be lured into irritation any time he were around — a man whose companionship you’d come to cherish in begrudging gratitude over your time together — but this is not what you’d wanted.   

Your reeling thoughts fractured by the screeching Magistrate in front. “You think you’re all that, you shameless scoundrel? Oh, you’re just a man and I’ll make sure they break your limbs, bone by excruciating bone, before we drag you bloodied and defeated, to my estate.” He spits the time of the duel to be held tomorrow in that same fury before he’s turning on you both and trudging back off to where he came from, his procession of cronies falling along right in line.   

And you’re left behind, with the metallic poison of your regret within your mouth and bone deep worry within your body as you stare up at Sylus’s form.   

The next day arrives much too soon, even as sleep evades you through the entirety of your night, spent tossing onto much too warm sheets.   

Now, having dragged yourself to dress and prepare yourself for the dreaded day, you trudge out of your home, chancing a brief, longing look upon the humble place over your shoulder, in case it were truly your last.   

You hadn’t divulged the details of your itinerary for the day — which possibly entailed getting sold into slavery to a sleazy official, by the time noon rolled in — to Grandmother or Caleb and you preferred it remain that way for as long as possible. Your Grandmother was coming along in her years, with weakened nerves now and Caleb tended to be a frightful worrywart in matters concerning you.   

“Someone’s starting the day rather early. That eager to see me fight, are you, kitten?” The familiar voice beckons. You toss a raised brow over your shoulder at your previously truant neighbour, now returned — his house having settled long vacant in his absence, over the course of his journey to Gods knew where. And the root cause of all your fretting; Sylus moves to join you by your side in two easy strides.  

“Don’t you even dare try joke about it, you absolute madman,” you mutter darkly under your breath, reaching to knock a fist against the side of his torso.   

The same old routine you tumble into, with him; you aren’t able to tamp yourself back from biting into the man as soon as he’s in your sights; the only person capable of wrenching out your honest, most reflexive reactions. And you hate the ease with which this incendiary of a man manages to drag them out of you.   

“What took over you to throw that offer out at that bastard, when you all but had a nice, even playing field to yourself? Now you’re just—” Your mouth snaps shut against the rest of your words, bitterly swallowed.   

How did you even begin to disentangle your bunched feelings on the matter? You knew how all of Lungtang chanted the tales of the fearsome Onychinus head. A conundrum of a man with a reputation as daunting as his influential mien, one that never failed to instil the fear of God in lesser men; criminals and bandits, who sought to rob their small town on the rare luckless occasion — dubbed this obscure town’s own Warrior God.   

But to you, he was also just Sylus; the man you’d grown in close proximity to since your late teenage years and a person you’d grown to care for in the natural course of your odd tug-and-push relationship.   

And though you remained constantly wary of the type of people Sylus associated with, in his particular line of work — a job you did not wish for, to bring even a modicum of harm onto your family by association with him, you could not help the restless agitation that needled at you each time Sylus left home, sometimes for weeks on end, on any number of his covert expeditions.  

And each time he did, the very nagging, unwelcome thought intruded, that perhaps this time he might not make it home.   

“Are you worried for me right now, kitten?” Sylus’s airy query breaks through your reverie, your gaze leaping to find his, fixated firm on you. Those scarlet eyes seem to lose part of their mirth at the face you’re sure you’re pulling.   

You tear your gaze away first, choosing to watch the path you two trek on, instead. “Of course, I’m worried. What a silly thing to ask.” A muted wisp of words.   

Ones that spark an immediate stroke of mild discomfiture at the admission; you prattle on before he can speak. “I know you’re strong, I know that. But just you against what — 13 or 14 grown men? More if that bastard intends on killing you. Anyone with half a wit and eye can see it’s a self-slaughtering mission from yards away. I don’t understand—” your indignant voice breaks, to throttle in much needed air into breath parched lungs. “I just don’t understand why you’d do that. I don’t understand you.”    

Help me figure out what you’re thinking; are the words you wish to speak but your voice refuses to assist.  

Sylus hums a low, throaty sound; in admission that he’s heard you.   

And then he opens his mouth to speak. Divulging a ‘reason’ that makes no sense to your muddled mind, simple though his words are. “That cad disrespected you.” Garnet tips your way to meet your surprised gaze. “That’s reason enough, is it not?”   

“I—”  

“Don’t fret anymore.” he continues. “I won't lose, you have my word.” Long, tapered digits brush gentle at your temple, in reassurance of your worries. “And once I’m done with that weasel, he won’t ever be capable of crawling within a mile of you, let alone dare a finger your way again.”   

The confession, sudden and honest, spurts warmth within your chest that readily clambers up your cheeks and floods down into your belly. A knot pulled tight within seeming to relax just that bit, in comfort of his words. Truly, he confounds you; this odd, beautiful man.   

You capture his fingers against yours in an insistent hold, halting him in his tracks. “You better keep your promise to me, Sylus,” you speak, meeting his gaze, firm on yours. “Do not forget the prize that’s at stake here. You'll come out of there, victorious. I won’t afford you any other options, you hear me?”   

A pleased grin edges across that beautiful mouth, skewing it wider. He angles forward, so that garnet gaze is level against yours. Flexing the catch of his digits in between yours before he’s sweeping your hand towards his parted mouth in a fleeting brush of lips against your knuckles. “If it is my victory the Lady commands, so it shall be done.” He elaborates, a mild tickled inflection to his thick baritone.   

You disregard his little jibing use of the title for this one instance; his solemn promise you know he’s sealed to you; in the gentle grip of your fingers against his, garnet that refuses to stray until you see the resolve of his vow settle within that gaze too.   

By the time your deliberately protracted journey finds its end at the arena, edging the outskirts of Lungtang, the Magistrate along with his chosen warriors are already there, positioned and waiting by the great stone pillars of the vast grounds.   

The coming fight having attracted the townspeople to turn up in droves to watch the weaselly Magistrate take on their best warrior — hordes of curious eyes you feel boring into the two of you as you make your way towards where the Magistrate awaits.   

“Here you are. Any later and I might’ve started considering you’d fled with your tail in between your legs.” The Magistrate crows out loud. “After all, my men shall soon prove how Lungtang’s criminal they so falsely worship as a hero, is more bark than bite.” The swarm of brutes — big and terrifyingly bulky — he’s brought along, laugh at their Master’s goading.   

Sylus, however, remains unperturbed. “Is that so? I can’t wait to find out,” he responds, scrubbing an insouciant hand through his hair.   

His apathetic response seems to key the Magistrate’s ire even higher, sputtering his rage at him. “Y-You absolute— you imbecile. I will crush you.” Creeping a hand forward for you now, “I’ll hold the girl with me. We might as well quicken ourselves, in preparation for when you inevitably fall and watch me claim my rightful prize.”   

You steel yourself against the touch, palm rising to curb his approach with a polite denial but your companion is swifter; large hand darting forth to curl a harsh fist against the official’s greasy wrist.   

“No.” Sylus speaks, voice a low, lethal burr you haven’t ever heard from him before. “I don’t think you will, Sire.” Whatever it is the foolish Magistrate discerns within your companion’s steady gaze, has him flinching in visible fright at the sight, sweat beading wide across his pale, swollen face.  

He wrenches his wrist from Sylus’s grip, as if scathed just as you angle a curious look up at the Onychinus head; his face an impassive mask — hardly unusual — before it breaks into the tiny quirk of a self-assured grin when he catches you watching.  

The Magistrate yelps in frustration, turning in on a ferocious heel. “D-Do not waste my time any longer than you have.” Barking the rest of his words; he heads toward the makeshift dais he’s had set up for himself at the edge of the ring. “Come onto the fields now so we can commence the match.”  

“Sylus,” you place a hand at his arm to stall. “Duck down for a moment.”   

He raises a careful brow at you and you think he’s going to refuse for a moment but then he surprises you in the wordless, compliant drop of his head close to yours. Allowing your eyes to trace his features; those familiar scarlet eyes steady against yours, the slope of his broad nose, sweeping into the bow of full, slightly scraped lips.   

You realize you trust this man and what he’s offered you, whole-heartedly. And so, you wish to extend the same sentiment, reaching for the precious beads adorning your neck — an heirloom from your late parents, your most prized possession.   

Plucking it up and over your head in between cautious digits before you reach to place it about his neck instead. Leaving part of your most priceless gift with him, just as you’ve decided to entrust him with both your Fates. “A charm,” you clarify, “for good luck. It has been my most invaluable escort and has kept me safe all these years.”   

Sylus mutely treks delicate fingers across the worn beads of the chain, grasping it in between a loose fist, in acceptance of your faith.  

“Return it to me once you’ve won.” You tell him, rapping a firm fist against the leather guard at his chest.   

Large, warm digits move to curve about yours, gripping your fist against himself. “As if I could turn down such a heartfelt request, sweetheart.” A spirited grin tugs at his features.  “I’ll bring your little treasure back to you in one piece.”   

“Good, I’ll wait for it.” You respond. “Now, go out there and show them the might of our Warrior God.”  

The Magistrate flourishes open an official scrolled document, no doubt detailing the terms of their duel as soon as Sylus shifts to take position within the field, on opposing side of the assembly of his hired goons.   

You move to occupy a place up front, to stand among the vast gathered crowd, observing the proceedings as the Magistrate clutches the scroll up into the air and begins to drone out the conditions of the fight and the prize at stake — your belly stirs in nausea — you . “The duel shall be declared closed when all members of a party have been knocked unconscious; or killed, under the rare, unfortunate circumstance.” His beady eyes rove Sylus’s way. “Any objections?”  

Sylus shrugs the question off entirely in the flex of an arm against his chest, in preparation of the duel. “Let us not waste our time debating inanity now, as you said earlier. Commence the fight.”   

The Magistrate’s face colours a foul purple — you hope he may truly burst — but all he does is spew a cold, curt, “Begin.”  

The arena hurtles into instantaneous chaos, along with the crowd’s rousing cheers and gasps of terrified delight as the Magistrate’s cronies hound Sylus all at once. Your body hunching forward on reflex to watch as the first set of blows streak straight for Sylus’s face but he ducks down with an agility, unusual to a man of his stature.   

He catches two of the oncoming blows against his palms. Jamming his fists tight about their wrists before he contorts them sideways in a dull crackle of bone. The men immediately buckle to their knees in an agony of groans, their peers stepping over their fallen companions after, to grab for their opponent who springs out of their way, as if dancing the men around, with a noose placed about their grappling bodies.  

A sharp jab comes right for Sylus’s side after, the crony tries and lands a hit against his ribs; the latter’s grasp flexing about his arm to break his momentum, wrenching him close into his body. Before Sylus jostles his elbow harsh into the man’s back.   

Two men lunge for Sylus, aiming for his blind spot; your scraped call of warning lost amidst the thunderous din of the crowds as Sylus rounds upon his assailants. Grabbing the man he has on hand, fingers fisting tight into his garb before he hurls him onto the approaching minions, with a force violent enough, the three go bowling straight into the dirt.   

The crowd’s cheer is raucous; wild as the grin that splits wide across Sylus’s face as he stretches his body tall to full length. “Come now, that’s surely not all of what you’ve got for me.” Sweat barely beginning to make itself known across the firm muscled expanse of his arms, his torso. He's hardly out of breath while his opponents gawk at him as if cornered against a rabid beast.   

Your heart thrills in unexpected, startled pleasure to witness the strange, sensuous virility to his almost savage visage as he paces forward on swift, easy steps, within the ring.   

You’d always known Sylus to hold a rich charisma compacted within that strong personality; an ability to entice all he came into contact with. A brilliant, perceptive mind along with that tacit, undeterred will; he’d brought flourishing business booming within Lungtang over his period of unofficial rule of the place. The uncrowned Onychinus King and a fearsome warrior; the first time you’d truly stood witness to what he was capable of, outside of devious negotiations, professional and unalike.   

And to know, it was for you that he stood in that place now, socking down enemies with the streak of a great, terrifying beast that had your heart skittering within your chest and your blood thrumming within your ears, alongside the adrenaline roiling through your veins. He truly was an infuriatingly perfect man.   

You joined your voice to the shouts of encouragement rolling off the townspeople, in waves for their Warrior God just as Sylus brings an opponent down to his knees with a violent sweep of his knee to his torso.   

“Enough!” You hear the squeaked, enraged bellow of the Magistrate as he watches the proceedings with an increasingly incensed face. Whipping his reddening face towards the crowd to shake a threatening fist at them. “Quiet down before I have you all thrown into the dungeons!”   

But the townsfolk refuse to relent; their cheers rising to a deafening roar as the Magistrate nearly tumbles out of his seat to thrust a trembling finger at the ring as Sylus tosses another of his men over his shoulder to taste the ground at his feet . The attendants at his side scamper towards the arena at once. A quick, urgent rush of communication seems to pass in between the attendants and Sylus’s remaining opponents. Before the servants are tossing weapons into the ring, ones the cronies lunge for as soon as they hit the field. Rising slow once more as they brandish their newly obtained unfair advantage at an unarmed Sylus.  

A great wave of shock and indignance passes over the crowd just as you push past the row of onlookers to jostle yourself to the very front. “Hey! This was not among the rules!” You shout at the Magistrate. A sentiment the rest of the crowd joins you in mirroring but all it earns you is an insouciant shrug from the bastard, shedding any remaining responsibility of hosting a fair fight against Sylus. “And the rules didn’t indicate the participants were not allowed the use of tools at their disposal either. The opposing party’s principal should’ve brought his own if he wished for one, as well.”  

“That’s not—” Your voice breaks in agonised distress just as the Magistrate turns away from you entirely to press his rotund body back into the comfort of his seat to watch his laid-out massacre once more. Son of a cur.   

“Sylus!” You try and yell for his attention amongst the horrified cries of the crowd. “ Sylus, you don’t have to fight anymore! Get out of there, now! Sylus . ”  

His gaze sweeps over the mass of spectators for that one split moment, as if foraging for yours. Until it seems to find and fixate upon you, his mouth forming slow shape over words you cannot hear but understand on instinct, “Stay right there.”  

Your heart leaps and slams violent against the back of your breastbone with the crowd’s rising screams, just as a hefty brute lunges for Sylus; a battle axe heaved high above his head to strike a killing blow.   

The first cleave of the blade, Sylus avoids, to the tumbling pummel of your frenzied nerves. The man’s fervent swings, he dodges left and right. Avoiding another enemy’s assault with a dagger aimed straight for his gut; Sylus streaks the side of his palm flat onto his wrist in a hit vicious enough, the knife goes flying out of his grasp to stick, hilt-up, useless onto the ground. Before Sylus pummels a heavy fist into the assailant’s face, plastering him down onto the ground.   

The metallic chains of a flail come streaking for him, just as he side-steps past another heavy swing of the axe, catching the iron fetters of it harsh against his wrist. He ducks close into the enemy, manoeuvring the momentum of his attack into his own advantage, to wrench the man harsh into the fist he rams straight into his gut. Tumbling him sideways into the ground, unconscious.  

The bulldozing axe wielding maniac, now in close proximity, careens straight for Sylus on a fervent bellow, sweeping a blow straight for his head. Sylus seizes his last standing opponent’s assault against the strength of a muscled forearm. Catching the brunt of the axe’s hilt at it before he shoves back on a ferocious, inhuman show of force.   

Sylus, your heart hammers, lips forming shape over the syllables of his name in urgent prayer.   

The momentum of the wide, stone blade pushed back in such violence, sends the wielder staggering back with the weight of it; Sylus turning that precious moment of weakness to his benefit as he lunges straight for his neck, seizing it within a thick fist. The core muscles of his arm, rippling with the force with which Sylus hauls him off his feet entirely to drive the man down onto the ground with a vicious snarl.   

The combatant stops moving immediately, knocked out cold on the dirt; Sylus rising slow onto his feet as he stares at the man, chest heaving with the efforts of his strenuous exertion.   

A grave’s quietude slumps across the gathered crowd for several, tense moments.   

And then shatters into raucous chaos as the Conqueror of the duel is cheered to the high heavens; Sylus’s grin, wide and daunting, as he shifts off his fallen opponent, scrubbing a large hand back through sweat soaked locks as he starts ambling over toward the edge of your side of the arena.   

And your heart — your silly little heart — soars from its place within your chest and out for him, the high of his victory, as if it were your own, throbbing brutal within your blood.   

Before you know or comprehend it, your legs are moving; pushing past the crowds of onlookers, the wooden slates of your sandals skidding at dirt, as you fly across the ring toward Sylus. Your gaze entirely filled with your brilliant warrior’s expression shifting into surprise as you hurtle into him. And Sylus — that big, beautiful man understands — catches your careening body within his embrace; your momentum, he breaks against a half-swivel about his heel. Large, warm arms come tight about your body, wordless, without a question uttered, to seclude you further into that private space; just for you both in that moment.   

Your arms stretching about the thick expanse of his neck as you hold on hard to him; Sylus’s low exhale you feel warm gently, into the crescent of your neck as he sinks into you. The people, his duel; none of it matter when you embrace him this close against you, the adrenaline of your unbound joy, his impressive triumph settling into your thundering heart, you feel pressed against him.   

His soft, heavy laughter curls pleasant into your ears. “To the victor go the spoils, I guess.” He breathes. “Although this treasure seems particularly eager on jumping into my arms herself.”   

“Of course I am.” You press yourself away from him enough to afford yourself a proper survey of his face. “Gods, you were brilliant. Thank you, Sylus.”   

His thumb brushes just beneath your eye; a slow, testing touch. His gaze simmers in unusual, unexpected gentleness that siphons the breath from your lungs. “You need never thank me for anything, sweetheart, let alone this. I do not want it.”   

Your own relief blooming into a smile, but before you can respond; an unpleasant, harsh voice fractures through the air — the Magistrate seething and raging as he makes his way over to you both, an army of guards right behind. Clearly, the man could not stomach a sore loss; rabid fire and venom within his gaze as he trudges toward you, screaming obscenities.   

“Step back for a bit, kitten.” And you obey without further prompting, granting Sylus a wide berth for whatever he plans on doing.   

He doesn’t spare a moment longer before he’s striding forward, snatching one of the Magistrate’s unconscious minions off the ground. Hoisting him high up by the scruff of his neck. The Magistrate’s steps stagger just then at Sylus’s mad display, perhaps sensing the disaster he’s called upon him.   

But it’s far too late. “Here, have a present from all of Lungtang, Sire.” Sylus tows his arm back, wide, and aims — to the scurrying cries of the Magistrate — before he violently hurls the man in hand, right at the waddling official, bowling him and half his guards over like a stack of gambling plaques.   

“Sylus.” You gasp at his insane spectacle.  

Before the corrupt, toppled lot can even think to get their bearings back, Sylus is strolling back toward you; a quick flourish of a large hand thrown over his shoulder, in signal. “Take care of them,” he instructs out loud.   

A swarm of dark clad men melt away, on his sole command, from the crowds, to pack around the Magistrate and his men, blotting their figures entirely out of your sight. “Come on.” Sylus’s voice fractures through your reverie, his frame crowding your field of vision.   

“Whe— aah!” A hefty arm swoops beneath the back of your legs, sending frantic fingers scrabbling for purchase against the strength of Sylus’s shoulders as he hoists you up against his body. “What’re you doing?” 

He flashes a devious grin up at you, completely at odds against the bewildered shock you know is wide across your face. “Time to get out of here, sweetheart,” is all he offers in response before he’s sweeping you away from the pandemonium he’s wrought and the boisterous crowd; discarding all of that well-earned glory behind.   

The throng of on-goers tapers out the farther you get on to the road winding away from the arena; curious and awed looks alike garnered your way: at your position, and at the man — the infamous Onychinus head — who strolls easy through the streets of Lungtang, in possession of the strange woman he carries snug on the crook of an arm.  

A flush creeping hot up your face the longer this spectacle goes on until Sylus’s pace — thank the Gods above — dwindles to a halt. “This should be far enough.”   

“Yes, thank you. Put me down now.” Tapping fraught fingers against his shoulders in emphasis. Sylus raises a sculpted brow at you but relents, nonetheless. He steps past the mouth of the nearest back-street, well clear of people, before he helps you down onto your feet.   

You lean a hand across his arm, taking a moment to scramble your bearings back.   

“The brief walk back has you this out of breath, huh?” You turn a half-hearted frown at his mild ribbing; the man barely having broken a sweat himself, for having carried you all the way down here.   

“I wasn’t the one who asked you to lug me the entire way, you know,” you return.   

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m rather protective of my treasures being made to rot too long among the grime.” He gently pinches your cheek in between thick, tapered digits; voice descending to a softer baritone. “And I won, as promised.” Long, tapered fingers skim heat across the angle of your cheekbone. “So, you’ll give me a pass this once, won’t you?”  

Vivid scarlet flitters in inscrutable emotion to witness you cup careful palms about his own, as he touches you.   

“You also pulled that insane stunt with that sleaze of a magistrate at the end there. I don’t know how you plan on getting out of that one,” you point out, but there is no actual heat to your accusation.  

He exhales a half-laugh. “That’s probably long taken care of.” Stroking the fall of your hair back against your ear. “No one will come after you now.”  

You step closer to him. “You do know I’m capable of worrying about you too, right? I’m not heartless.” His mouth quirks at your peeved admission. “...You’re important to me Sylus.”  

A streak of something akin to surprise fulgurates for a moment’s notice within that garnet gaze, at your confession.   

Your fingers trek a steady path against the painted beads of your necklace dangling at his chest. “Although I do hope you’ll never pull something like this on my behalf, ever again.” He'd brought it back to you, safe and unscathed, just as he’d said — a vow made, he had honoured.   

Relief was still warm within your chest, along with the turbulence of long nursed vexing emotions, brought forth to the surface — for a man you’d known for almost half your life — by the day’s sequence of events. “I don’t think my heart could handle it.” You huff out a soft laugh.   

An inscrutable emotion streaks across Sylus’s face, too quick to pick apart until it retreats entirely once more.   

“Unfortunately for you,” long, tapered digits sweep about yours at his chest, capturing your hand steady within his grip. “that’s not a pledge I can offer you.” His whisper is low, throaty as it settles against you and you realize the sudden proximity of your positions.   

His striking face is all that floods your vision. His gaze flickers from yours, down toward the bow of your parted lips — a remiss on his part, you can tell from how it rolls back swift to catch your eyes once more. If you did not know any better, you might’ve almost thought he meant to lean further and—  

But was it really the mad conjuring of your mind and a reluctantly hopeful heart that wished to see what it thought it did? Or had you been this obtuse on purpose all along?   

Your brow knits in consternation; this far removed from the persistent babbling of voices — your anxieties, the people, his duel, your uncertain fates at the time — and sequestered within the quiet alley; your roiling thoughts are loud and insistent.   

“And why’s that, Sylus?” You ask quietly.  

The skewed pull of his mouth is devastatingly beautiful even in its lack of mirth, this up close. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart. Or are you going to pretend otherwise?” His thumb strokes its gentle path across your knuckles — lighting an incendiary course — your hand still placed firm at his chest. “Whatever your choice, however, know it has always been yours to make.”  

The muted, steady beats of his heart beneath your palm seem to thrum past the sensitive pads of your digits as they skim a line past his pectorals, and up your body, warming it from the inside out.   

You swallow against the surge of a nervous fever that takes you all at once; ploughing past that pluck of anxiety at your chest, to bet your entirety on the one gamble you’re about to make.   

“Come to think of it.” Pink tongue slinks past a mouth parched, to trek a slow path across your bottom lip, end to end; the intolerable burning intensity of Sylus’s scarlet gaze scouring each single motion, sending your light-headedness thrumming higher. “You haven’t truly won yet, have you, Sylus?”   

“What?” He exhales heavily. His breathing has quickened just a snick higher, you notice, underneath your feathering ministrations. You’re fascinated by how he sounds much short of breath in this one instant than he did throughout the entirety of that match. The fact sending a deluge of warm pride and desire threading through your heart.   

“A winner is only one when he has been crowned as such, and received his dues.” You clarify, shifting closer against him.   

Stretching up on the balls of your feet until you’re a mere hair’s breadth from his face. “You however, have yet to claim your prize.” Sweeping forward until your lips are skimming against his in a tentative, testing brush of kiss — your hammering thoughts of uncertainty, of whether he wants this too, swiped clean with the soft, guttural choke of sound that slips past Sylus’s lips at your brazen initiative. And before you can bask under the simmering warmth of what that sound does to you, Sylus is curving a large palm firm within the thread of your locks, wrenching your mouth back against his in a bruising, fervid kiss.  

Eager fingers skitter at the strength of his shoulders to ground yourself against the sudden, pleasurable onslaught just as he captures your waist within the ironed grip of an arm. Almost lifting you up entirely against him until you’re suspended barely at the tips of your toes.   

His grunts are warm against the inside of your mouth as his tongue skims past the easy access of your parted lips to taste you against himself. The wet muscle sliding against yours before he sucks it into his own mouth on an approving groan of desire.   

You're nearly nerveless by the time he parts from you on a wet stretch of sound, barely enough distance, his breath cascades hot against your damp lips with each guttural word, keying you higher. “This is getting a bit too dangerous, kitten. I suggest we stop here if you don’t wish to reach a point of no-return.”  

“No. No,” Your hands flit in fervent frenzy from the stretch of his shoulders to bunch into the thick silver weave of his hair. “We don’t ever need to stop. I want this, I want you, if you do too.” Your mouth descending back against his in the dizzy crush of lips and tongue, Sylus’s groans of pleasure you drink down against your own moan.  

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t desired you, sweetheart.” He whispers in harsh breaths into the pocket of space you allow him in between your kisses. “You’re the one who said it now. So, brace yourself.”   

A hand you skim down the thick length of his neck, grazing at the base of his hair to support yourself against the large arms that cage your waist to lift until he’s driving you both back against the wall of the narrow alleyway, shrouding you deeper into shadows.   

His kiss of gentle affection skids past the cut of your cheek, so at odds against the fierce brunt of his arousal you feel grinding into your belly. You buck against the touch just as Sylus eases you down, only enough you’re on your feet now; bodies still moulded tight against the shape of each other.   

His mouth continues its work of feathering kisses across the curve of your cheek, down the delicate line of your jaw. His hips stroking against yours in gentle motions, sending the roll of his hard length against your stomach each time he guides you against himself, having you squirm in roiling pleasure, helpless against the insistence of his mouth and pelvis. Meeting his body with yours in the reflexive buck of your hips against his.   

The elongated stretch of your skirt, sending a mild frisson of frustration through your nerves to feel the restriction of your movements against his. Groaning in soft defeat against Sylus’s mouth over yours, just as he cups a large hand about the angle of your pelvis. Caressing past the flare of your behind, rucking up the fabric within a tight fist to slide it, far too slow, up your legs.   

A final brush of temporary farewell he kisses against your drenched lips before he descends, unhurried, down the length of your body; scarlet gaze refusing to relent from yours for even a single measured moment of mercy. A thick palm he traces, appreciative, down the curves of you as he pitches on to his knees.   

Thumb warming its touch against the edge of a knee, your skirts bunched at the hand fastened about your leg as it caresses a slow, sensual path up higher. The glorious sight he is, down on his knees in between the willing split of your legs; undoing in its entirety — you shudder at the devastation he brings upon you when his fingers hone their target upon the cloth of your underwear at your hip. Skating a delicate path against the knot of it before his index slips underneath it to tug undone.   

Wresting your underwear away entirely on his next sharp tug before he sweeps the mortifyingly damp cloth away from your body and under his nose for a long, obscene inhale. “You smell sweet, kitten. So much of this pretty nectar, all for me... I admit I’m more than a little flattered.” The skew of his devious smirk pulls wider at your choked sound of pleasure to witness him swipe your underwear down against his back, and pocket into the satchel at his belt.   

“Sylus,” you reprimand half-heartedly, in distressed urgency.   

“The victor takes it all, does he not? These are my spoils to have now, kitten.” His large palms are back at the skin of your legs, skimming a dizzying, scorching path up the quiver of your thighs. “Just as you are, the treasure I snatched for myself.”  

“Let me indulge in my private feast, quietly now.” He baits in heated whispers, jaw falling open as he disappears in between the heavy folds of your skirt and — Heaven help you — the sound that scrapes raw past your throat to feel the tease of his broad tongue against your drenched slit, is unlike any you’ve ever heard before. The high-pitched squeal you cut off in the hasty wrench of your bottom lip into your mouth, heated desire clouding your swimming vision to tamp down your moans of arousal, lest any passers-by, just a few feet away from your shadowed alcove, spot the indecency of your display.   

Thoughts drifting into emptiness — musing absent at how self-conscious you’d been while Sylus had carried you within his arms all the way out here; fully clothed then. And yet, here you were now, with your skirts bunched high up against your pelvis with that very same man’s wonderful tongue shoved deep inside you.  

The hot pads of Sylus’s index and middle you feel skim against the tight bead of pleasure at your apex, just as the point of his tongue seeps in at your entrance, sending your hips stuttering into his steeled grip, fast at your pelvis.   

You clamp a palm shut tight against your tapering moans, unable to smother them within yourself any longer. The heated plumes of your own breath crowding back against you with each shivered moan Sylus forces out of you.  

His mouth brushes about the length of your folds, the bow of his upper lip bumping gentle at your tight bundle of nerves. Before he closes it within the searing heat of his mouth, sucking at your increasingly swollen flesh.   

Sylus draws at the drenched slick of you like a man intent on devouring you whole, the thought drives your pleasure higher along with the rising euphoria bubbling within your body. A curious thumb parts your inner folds wider to admit the broad of his tongue deep into your slit. Your walls spasming against the breach of it as your hips judder down against the strength of his jaw.  

“You’re close, aren’t you sweetheart? You can keep up a little longer.” His smothered encouragement, the vibrations of his thick voice right against your slit send you tumbling higher upon that precipice of sweet release.   

The added, ruinous excitement of not being able to see him past the abundant frill of your skirts blazes you higher; the sole nervous anticipation of not knowing where he’d touch you next has you gushing on his tongue.   

A low, soft curse you hear spill guttural against your folds, vibrating straight up into your womb, “You’re practically weeping on my tongue, sweetheart. I like that.” Your answering moan you bury into a bite of your sleeve as you fold your arm about your face; a full body quiver long having taken you. You no longer hold control over yourself. “Grind down on my face, relax yourself. Yes, there’s my good girl now.”  

The praise having your walls grip hard at the fingers he’s worked into you now. Propelling them at an indolent, maddening pace into your depths.  

“Sylus,” you pant harshly, mind numbing into a crescendo. “I don’t — hah — can’t — much longer.” Begging for a release so, so close at hand.  

“Then don’t . Let yourself go.” His groans muted against the wet heat of you. “I’ll catch you when you fall.”   

The crook of his middle and ring fingers up into you has you spasming against the intrusive stretch of them. Opening you up deeper; the deft pads of them scrounge up a spot against your frontal walls that has your mouth flying open on a silent scream, head falling back against the unyielding brick of the alley as your fluttering insides clamp down violent against his adroit handling of you. “Right here, is it?” You think you hear his muted whispers spill throaty against the sensitive expanse of your thigh.   

Right at the junction of your hip as Sylus sinks a bite into the pliant flesh just as his thick fingers rub up against that same weak spot inside to have you disintegrating into senselessness right above him.  

You can’t fathom how he’s brought you to such complete devastation in just a few, nimble strokes of his tongue and fingers into you, against you. Never having been dragged this fast or good to the precipice by your own hand, let alone another’s. He’s away each layer of defence, piece by excruciating piece, having worked you open so thoroughly as if he knew your body like his own.  

Truly a man that sought relentless victory even in between the fall of your legs.   

And it is only when that pleasure point is one keyed far too high, with the incessant press of his third finger up into your walls, stretching you open — so incredibly full of just his digits alone — does your body fall. No longer capable of protecting yourself against the battering deluge of a release so consuming, your knees buckle underneath the hefty intensity of his ministrations.   

Sylus’s large hand, you feel warm about your rump, to curve its easy support about it, as he presses his face further into you. Waves upon waves of pleasure, drowning your keening cries against your well-abused bottom lip. A faint frisson of overstimulation stringing you higher to gain enough conscious thought back to catch his low, guttural growl searing harsh at your drenched folds, at the sensation of you gushing all over his tongue.  

You quiver in nerveless arousal to feel the fleeting brush of his kiss farewell against your slit before he rises, slow, onto his feet once more. Your body clenches in on instinctual need to catch sight of his face once more. The slick that glimmers obscenely copious across his mouth and down the strength of his jaw, the untamed, almost bestial intensity to that barely tamped heat within scarlet, as Sylus sweeps a careful thumb against your wetness has you unfurling trembling digits forward to snag around his neck, dragging him down against yourself.  

Consuming the ferocity of his kiss just as eagerly in the tongue you lap at his lips, slipping along the angle of his jaw; moaning softly at the taste of you that clings still to him. Restless fingers steal in between your bodies to reach for the arousal that strains delectable and intimidating against his trousers.  

Flittering your digits about the catch of them as you work them open enough along with the thick fingers that aid you to release him free for your hungry gaze. Your audible gasp of pleasure Sylus captures against the pad of his thumb edging just past the part of your lips.  

He’s incredibly blessed, bigger, girthier than any you’ve ever had before. The prospect of taking that thing inside your body simultaneously terrifies and excites you.  

Your dazed musings Sylus fractures in the cup of your jaw in between firm, gentle digits. “Nervous?”   

“...A bit,” you admit. Adding for good measure, “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”  An expectant hand you move to curve about the breadth of him to make your point — fingers barely able to cup entirely about him.  

Sylus’s laughter is a low, heavy burst of sound. “Don’t worry, kitten.” He reaches down to join his fingers against yours in languidly stroking the length of him. Coasting in close to your ear as he lays a kiss of dark, hoarse promise against it, “I’ll teach you to do more than just handle it.”  

Your pleased moan you throttle against his quick, vehement kiss as Sylus gathers the folds of your skirt up to bunch about your hips. Fitting himself into the space he makes, his arousal glancing hot against your outer labia; feeling him so close to where your body clenches in on tense anticipation.   

He withdraws from you on a wet slip of tongue, seizing your gaze within his. The firm fist he strokes at his length guiding the flared, slick head of him against your folds to lubricate in your wetness, bumping pleasant at your sensitive bead of nerves on each indolent stroke.  

You buck your hips up against his in an impatient scratch of throaty sound. Slipping the head of him so close against your slit, it almost makes you dizzy with need.  

You are not, however, prepared truly for the actual breach of him as he splits you open in pleasure so blinding, it streaks right against your tender bead and up deep into your belly. Sylus’s guttural groans brand hot against the crescent of your neck in overwhelmed desire, a muted swear swallowed into the bite of teeth he presses into it. “Relax yourself a little, kitten, you’ve gone too tight on me.”  

You try, you truly do as you smother past your burning need to scream, for breaths to claw into your lungs; he feels too much, too good all at once, your body incapable of doing much else except accepting the slow propulsion of him deeper into your walls.

He feels almost too much for you to handle, spearing you open so far around him you didn’t even think yourself capable of such a feat. And yet, the copious arousal that slicks in between your bodies, with the voracious clench of your walls around the hard strength of him, sucking him inside, speaks volumes. Of how you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being impaled upon his length.  

“More,” you pant; the slow thrusts of his hips up into yours sending your lashes flittering shut, in overwhelming euphoria and need. “I need more, Sylus.”  

He grunts in acknowledgment, large hands fixing hot fetters of flesh against either side of your pelvis as he thrusts into you, each swollen stroke of his arousal sending him impossibly deep, until you feel it may truly reach your womb.  

Sylus heaves himself closer into you, nearly pinning you against the wall with the sheer strength of his towering body, the heavy pumping of his hips into you, sending euphoria skating through your veins. Intoxicated on feeling the way he moves within you.  

A hand drifts up from your hip to grip at the flare of your waist beneath cloth as Sylus manoeuvres your body to thrust into you at an angle that drives him hard against your swollen spot of pleasure inside.   

Your hands fly in agonized frenzy to clutch at his arms, his shoulders as you grapple with the blinding pleasure he’s carving into your body. His head skews downward to catch the sensitive flesh of your neck in between the bite of restive teeth, a low moan wrenched free of your throat. His mouth strokes down the length of your skin until he teeths at the fastenings of your collar, wrenching violent at the buttons before he scatters them apart. Mouth engulfing the exposed slope of your clavicle in fervid groans.  

Your fingers skitter for purchase into the silver brush of hair at the base of his neck, tugging harsh with his increasingly heavy pace. A low whine clambering past your throat when his grip upon your body tightens once more in purpose, dragging his length to the near tip of him before he rams back into you on a guttural snarl so primal, it has you violently spasming about his thick shaft, your vision blanking in for a moment.  

Sylus’s face is a flood of savage bliss and heated concentration — the sight along with his pleasurably punishing thrusts into your walls — has your heart nearly trying to rip past the bruising beat of it at your breastbone. Hips meeting his in stuttering thrusts as your body bows up, sharp, toward him to chase a height of euphoria so in sight.  

“You’re moaning so loud, kitten.” His throaty chuckle stirs weighty into your belly. “Keep that up and you’ll draw us an audience.” Gnawing weakly at your bottom lip to instinctively tamp your sounds just as Sylus moves to drive into you on a particularly ruinous, deliberate thrust that has your legs buckling entirely underneath you.   

But he’s there to catch you, thick forearms cording about the feeble, trembling plush of your thighs before he hoists you up entirely onto him; his hushed chuckle drifting into guttural laughter. “Why try being quiet on your own when you can just make use what you have at your disposal?” His lips drive against yours in a vehement kiss of teeth and tongue, devouring you, just the way he is in between your legs. You let yourself go at last, moaning unabated into the searing warmth of his mouth, Sylus’s pace turning to near-frenzied rutting, with the sounds he wrenches from your bruised throat.  

He forces you deeper against the wall, spearing you helpless in between the cool stone at your back and the unforgiving intensity of his drilling thrusts pillaging your body. Golden deep pleasure roiling pleasant just beneath your skin, to push at the confines, until you feel like you could float out of it heavenward and never return to the ground.  

Your fevered gaze snags against the painted beads of your gifted charm about his neck, swinging vehement with the force of his propulsions. Drifting absent fingers against the worn orbs of the necklace, mushed mind admiring how truly lovely he looks like this for you; coupled along with that tight knit of concentrated pleasure, it makes you believe he truly is all yours to have. As if he belongs to you, with you.   

That sole, deranged thought sending arousal thrumming within, so blinding, your body quivers into the tight curve of a crescent, pressing hard against his chest, a peak so close, you can feel it stirring vicious into your belly. “You’re all mine to have, aren’t you? My great warrior,” you gasp against his mouth, trembling fingers sweeping for the broad strength of his shoulders as your nails drive in, harsh.

Sylus’s response; groaned heavy against your tongue, without hesitation. “You’ve always had me in my entirety, sweetheart.”  

Your body has wholly given up — a leaden weight — within his grasp, held together only by the strength of Sylus’s arms curving steeled grips about your thighs. Pounding into you with each fervid roll of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs — the profuse flow of your arousal sweltering in between your already burning bodies, the obscene squelch of it each time he withdraws from your walls only to drive back in with savage, terrifying accuracy, rutting himself so good against the spot inside that has you quivering uncontrollably around the length of him.  

Your combined sultry symphony so loud within your ears, drumming along with the thundering of your heart, you’re sure any passers-by crossing the mouth of the alley would be able to hear. Your cotton-fed mind so far gone, however, you’re no longer coherent enough to care about anyone hearing your claims upon each other’s bodies. So deeply entrenched in the sole existence of Sylus: his body, tongue, his bruising grip upon you, you love so much — scoring stinging crescents as your own signs of victory, across the broad strength of his shoulders, down the firm muscle of his arms, serving to drive him only harder into you until he’s knocking half-screams out of your throat. Swallowing them up against the hungry sweep of his tongue.  

Sylus’s thrusts into your body have turned erratic, his guttural moans heating your skin into a blazing furnace. You’re so close to release, you can feel the heavy crest of its deluge approaching — golden and ruinous.  

His grip upon the flare of your hip shifts, pressing you impossibly deeper against him, the new angle driving the length of him against your sensitive bundle of nerves on each hammering thrust. “A-Almost—” Gasping a breathless warning.  

Hurtling you so high; the frenzied pump of his hips into yours, the constant stimulation at your swollen bead sending your walls spasming so violent, you feel Sylus loose a long, guttural groan deep into your mouth. You tumble off the precipice of release just as you feel the first thick spurts of his seed searing fire against your sensitized walls; Sylus’s sultry growls keying your frenzied release so high your fingers scrape across the back of his neck to tug him harsh against your mouth. Sinking your quivering, heated desires into a vehement bite at his chest, Sylus’s digits weaving tight into your hair at the back of your head, to hold you there.  

His thundering pulse you moan against in appreciation, laving absent to soothe the reddening bite at his skin, as your body convulses with the still flowing spurts of his release, stroking at the intoxicating fever of your prolonged orgasm, filling you to the brim and over; the warmth of it you feel drip past your folds and onto his sturdy thighs.  

Taking several, long much needed moments to compose yourself as your sweat-slick face falls, nerveless, to press your cheek against the damp expanse of his chest, body still suspended firm upon the corded strength of his arms, his cock nestled snug and thick within you.  

You claw a much-needed gulp of air past a throat, long sore. “...I fear you may have to carry me here on out, as well, Sylus, because I certainly can’t move an inch right now.”  

His amused chuckle drifts warm against the top of your head. “While joined together just like this?” He teases softly. “You may truly pass out of sheer embarrassment this time if I do, kitten.”  

“Doesn’t matter,” you quip right back, half-hearted, canting a languid gaze up his way. “I think I’ll be long knocked out before any pesky shame kicks in, from how good this — you were.”  

You feel Sylus’s length twitch within your walls at your words, groaning quietly at the growing strain of his arousal, back to half-mast already. Truly, was there a limit to the man’s enduring stores of stamina?  

But perhaps, the real question was of your own insatiable appetite too, when it came to him, as you were only newly discovering — your wrecked body responding in the muted burn of arousal, kindling into slow fire within your belly, clenching weakly at him.  

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Sylus’s skewed grin tucks against your ear as he nuzzles at your cheek.  “I’ll carry you out of here in my arms, as you wish, without the additional parade of our naked bodies. In return,” A kiss he feathers, against the angle of your cheekbone. “Come home with me.”  He asks of you, softly.

You bury your approval in the nudge of your nose against him, catching his lips against yours in a gentle, chaste kiss, “Sounds like a done deal to me, my handsome warrior.”  

End Notes: Thank you for reading! This was a very fun indulgence and I hope everyone who bagged Sylus’ card enjoyed his soft card story.

Tagging as requested: @samanthagnicole , @catboi-anon , @bitches4lifebro , @beebumbo , @hellinistical , @dangerousluv1 , @webmvie , @Cas-tiel13 , @aria-tempest , @raendarkfaerie , @lamentinee , @unhingedsillygod , @tiredas , @ladyparamount

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If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, you can fill this short form here. If you’d like to be removed, shoot me a DM!

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[navillee]

I need to talk about sub Sylus. I got the mental NEED to go against the grain and spread the word, so here I am.

All lads' men can be subs. You guys aren't seeing it cause you vision what a sub should be is restricted.

Sub Sylus 𓅨

an Introduction

Sylus has so much potential as a sub and you all are committing the nastiest sin for ignoring that possibility;

I'm gonna say that once: all that facade he proudly polished being the Onychinus leader is just to hide the fact that he's a finsub. And probably a SAM too;

Let me elaborate to the people who also knew he was into something but couldn't figure it out. Sylus doesn't fit what most people consider the standard for a submissive men is, but that doesn't mean that he's automatically a dom, or that the things making Sylus eyes spark – quite literally – are approaches reserved to doms only;

First of all, it is clear he's a finsub. Finsub is a shortcut to 'financial sub', and the term explains itself. I'm 100% sure that as soon as you enter the N109 zone, he was already requesting a credit card for your use exclusively. It didn't get delivered in time. That's why he landed his at the protocore auction;

"5 million. You offer will make people think I'm broke. Wouldn't want that, sweetie." That line alone explains everything, on top of he only sounding satisfied when you bought every protocore there;

He loves showing off to others how healthy he is and how no other but him is suitable to spoil his dom miss hunter;

Did you ever notice he's always spoiling you? Dresses, high-quality protocore-based weapons, week dates to expensive and exclusive restaurants, jewelry, even a private fireworks show. Luke and Kieran are always running down to Linkon to deliver you something new in the middle of the week because Sylus can't wait the entire week. He never can;

Sylus gets off watching his bank account movement as you spend his money. As higher the spent, better his orgasm;

You can spend all you want, but he made sure to request that every time you wish to buy a new set o lingerie, he could give his humble opinion on it;

On top of that, he always gives you hints about what he wants you to use on him. That's why you had to stop opening your message app on the hunter's association computer browser: Sylus can send you links to a new sex toy any time during the day. As I told you before, he can never wait properly;

"They made an exclusive high-quality leather collar craved in rubies." *sends the link of the N109 zone's craftsman* "Wouldn't that match my eyes, mistress hunter?"

It's a matter of three days wait to receive the said collar at your apartment's door. That's Sylus way to make you visit his mansion;

And THATS when his other side bloom. The SAM sub side. 'SAM' is also a shortcut that stands for a combination from "pain slut" and a brat. Sylus is both;

I mean, come on, he made you shoot him, and since the evol resonance failed, he acted like a desperate brat. When he noticed that his behavior was making you dislike him, Sylus noticed that it was better to show his freaky side little by little, to not scare his darling away from him;

But he couldn't even if he wanted to. You two are attached to levels that neither of you can actually understand. He knows that, and he wants to explore his desires with you because they're made to suit yours. He knows that deep inside, you want to devour him as much as he wants to feel the pain;

Is that threatening feeling that makes his eyes sparkle in blood red. That's why there's this push-pull dynamic happening with him. It's because he's desperately trying to bring out your dom side;

That's when the second name he refers about you appears. "Miss hunter," "mistress hunter," is just the surface level of Sylus as a sub;

It's when "ma'am" slips out his mouth that you know you have this man on your hands. And "ma'am" isn't "mommy." There's a substantial difference between them. That's why every sub is different;

As an example, let's use another lads man as an example: Rafayel. Rafayel is the type of sub that refers to you as "mommy." From his behavior to his tone of voice, his "mommy's" melodic calls are a meeting awaited for centuries, it's a sign of obedience, an eager plea for guidance to a comfort place where he doesn't have to worry anymore;

Sylus "ma'ams" are pleas for destruction. He wants more, and he wants harder;

"Yes ma'am. Can you do it harder? Fuck! I need it harder!"

You're entropy to his universe. As you two reach the chaos together in a complex dance of testing the others' nerves, more alive he feels.

He teases, and he teases way too much. You should always keep attention to his body signs cause he's reckless when there's a collar around his neck. When he watches the rubies of his now favorite collar shining on the mirror, all he wants is to you to break him;

Put a pretty gag on his convinced smile. He doesn't want praises, so when he starts drooling slut him out. Watch Sylus getting hard with your condescending tone. He will keep mumbling back cause he wants more;

Force him on his knees, kick his legs spread apart, and pull his hair back. The face of eagerness approval he will give you is gonna be priceless;

Slap his skin, face with your hands, thighs, and ass with the so commented good leather toys he bought. Do that every time he shows himself unable to keep his damm hands on the handcuffs;

Rip his skin with your nails. It isn't like he gives you other options. When Sylus notices you're scratching him, he will find a way to piss you off. "I thought your nails are sharper than that," "a kitten can't scratch it like tiger after all, shouldn't put my expectations too high." Watch him hiss and arch as you paint his torso with thin red fillets of his ripped sensitive skin;

I think he's also okay with spit, especially on his mouth;

He is large and tough. He can take anything, and I mean ANYTHING you give it to him;

Shove a vibrator right on prostate and keep pumping his cock, test him to see how much he can handle until he breaks;

Because when he, in fact, breaks, there's nothing left but a dumb slut that can only mumble unconnected words – swearing disconnected sentences in its great majority;

When you finish with him, he will be a mess, head too cloudy to think as you take care of his bruises;

Isn't it like you could prevent him from walking around with little to no fabric on his torso inside the house. He's definitely an exhibitionist. Those are bruises worthy to show of, anyway, he likes seeing himself in the mirror with them, it feels right;

As he watch them fade away, it is just a matter of time for him until he starts to get on your nerves again, to make your obscene art on his skin and on his mind.

[leighsartworks216]

Birdcage

Sylus x gn!Reader

Sequel to My Pretty Bird

Fucking love Mephisto!Reader so much I love being a silly little bird in the arms of a big ol man

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, swearing, smoking, rescue

Word Count: 1,234

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

You squawk and screech and make all sorts of sounds. Your wings beat relentlessly against steel bars, padlocked firmly shut. A man hits the cage with the butt of his gun. It swings back and forth, knocking you off balance.

"And why can we just shoot this damn thing?" the man asks. He glares at you. You stare right back, cawing indignantly in his face. He hits the cage again. "It's so fucking annoying!"

Another man in the room laughs. Smoke sifts through his teeth, drifting lazily through the air. "Don't tell me you're gonna let a bird get under your skin."

The first man covers your cage with a heavy cloth. It doesn't do much to quiet you and you beat more defiantly against the bars, but at least he doesn't have to look at you.

"Crows are smart birds, you know. You give them an inch, they'll take a mile," the smoker says. "It probably likes annoying you cuz you're making such a fuss."

"It doesn't annoy you?"

"Hmph. I have three sisters - I'm used to it."

The dark doesn't mean much when you have night vision, but night vision doesn't mean much when there's nothing to look at. Everywhere you turn: bars and nothing beyond. And there's nothing you can do on your own to get out of it. Code-based locks are easy enough to break, but a key-lock? You're shit out of luck. Still, you peck at it restlessly, without thought of if it would work or not.

You sent out the beacon a while ago. Sylus still isn't here. Unsurprising, given he was all the way in Linkon and you're halfway across the N109 Zone in some other fool's territory (intel-hunting, as it were). From what you gather, they have no idea who you belong to. The idea that the leader of Onychinus could come here is an utter impossibility in their minds. You just hope he'll be here soon.

You hear the click of a door opening and heavy boots entering the room. "I didn't even need to ask for directions," a new voice jokes, "I could hear it all the way in my lab."

Lab?

"Thank fuck you're here, doc. It's giving me a headache. Can't you shut it up?"

"Without damaging it," the smoker reminds them. "The boss wants to know how it's built."

The new person laughs. You try clawing through the bars at the cloth, with no luck. That voice, that laugh - it unsettles you.

"If what you described is true, I'd hate to damage it." The heavy boots walk closer. "Can I...?"

The first man hmphs. "Go ahead, doc, I won't stop ya."

The cloth is removed without ceremony. A face stares at you through the bars. A gaunt woman with an unsettlingly wide smile, eyes obscured by thick goggles. She gasps in pleasant surprise as she sees you.

You scream in her face, flap futilely in your little cage to try getting away. It's the only thought you have - you have to get away.

She chuckles lowly. "You're still as spirited as ever, I see."

The jagged, jolting sound of electricity registers milliseconds before it touches the cage. It travels through the path of least resistance: from the taser she holds, through the steel bars of the cage, and into you. The best way to describe the sensation is like waking up from anesthesia, except the "waking up" comes from your synthetic heart and mind being temporarily stopped. Your wings feel numb and uncoordinated. You can't stand, falling weakly to the cage floor. Your eyes see, but nothing processes.

She hums, satisfied. "Where did you say you found it?" she asks the men.

The smoker is the one to answer. The first man is too busy staring with gleaming eyes at your new silence. "It was slinking around the market. Don't know what for yet."

"Probably just looking for something shiny to bring back home." She pokes your body through the bars. You jolt away, tripping over your own feet in the process, feathers on end. "Isn't that right? Where do you consider home now, I wonder."

"Doctor?" the smoker interrupts. "Have you met it before?"

She giggles, louder as you manage to make a pitiful sort of sound. "I was there when they created it. I even helped out here and there. It's a remarkable piece of technology, but it's incredibly difficult - if not impossible - to reproduce."

"It's a machine, right? Can't you just wipe its memory, like a computer?" the first man asks.

"I'd hate to erase so much valuable data." She pushes the cage, stepping away as you go round and round. Your head spins. You squawk indignantly. "Where's your boss? I need to discuss price-"

The door clicks open again. She gawks up at the man who enters. His red eyes glare intensely into her.

It's a mess, after that. You manage to face the action, trying to record it to rewatch later, but actually keeping up with it in the moment is tricky.

From what you do pick up on, the two men opened fire on the intruder. Sylus's Evol was able to stop some of the bullets, too worn and weary to have any chance of catching them all. One hits his shoulder, distracting him just long enough from the doctor. There one moment, she seems to disappear the next. She's not gone - not at first. But Sylus is shoved aside in his moment of weakness and the door swings loose on its hinges, her heavy boots receding into the distance beneath the crossfire.

Two quick shots from a pistol end the fight.

He grunts, holding his shoulder as he looks down the hall. You don't know if he would have chased after her. That's a question that won't be answered perhaps for a lifetime, because your soft cawing draws him back to you.

Tucking his gun into its holster, he crosses the room to you. You stumble and trip trying to stand on your feet to meet him. Despite the situation, his lips curve into a slight grin, glad to see you again and with your same persistence.

The padlock clicks open. You nearly fall through the door and to the ground in your excitement, but he catches you, holding you securely against his chest. The blood on his hand stains your feathers. You start emitting a strange sort of purr, picking at his hand in an odd form of preening.

"What did she do to you, hm?" He idly scratches under your chin as he steps over an outstretched arm and into the hallway. He looks down the way, seeking any traces of the woman left behind without any luck. It aches deep within, reignites a fire that never truly went out, as he turns and heads for the back exit he came in through. "Sleep. I'll wake you when we're back home."

You nibble at a callous on his finger. He truly thinks you'll be a stubborn little thing and refuse, staying awake until he gets you home where he can get you fixed up. Fortunately, you relent. You tuck your beak into his hand, hiding away from the world. It's not long after that your feathers fluff slightly and you fall asleep in his arms.

He'll find that bastard one day. And he'll make her pay for everything she did to you.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

I might or might not be thinking about the LADS love interests 24/7 so here are some of my random thoughts/notes on their personalities and relationship with the MC (not spoiler free):

I've seen a lot of people across platforms comparing zayne and sylus and stating they seem very similar even though that's not true at all.

On the surface, both of them do seem reserved and cold, but when you really analyze their characters and play through various stories it's evident that they're quite different. Even on the surface, Zayne, whether considered cold by his colleagues and interns or not, is popular and respected for both his research work and extra care towards his patients. Sylus, on the other hand, is feared and envied due to his power and control over the N-109 zone. He's known to be merciless and difficult to work with.

In terms of how they are with MC, both of them joke around with her and show their love in their own ways, just like the rest of the LIs. Zayne tries to make her laugh with his dry humor and shows his affection for her by being extra careful about her health and daily schedule outside of their doctor-patient relationship, but in a more "boyfriend" way like reminding her to sleep and eat on time (which MC does for him too) and offering to cook delicious yet nutritional meals to eat together. He also tells her he loves her through his words but in a more subtle/indirect way rather than outright stating it; saying "The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" on multiple occasions like the Abyssal Chaos special ending for him and some chats and event dialogues. He also likes to make time for her whenever he can, especially on the weekends, like the implied pottery workshop date from his affinity card. They're also physically intimate with each other like MC casually sitting on his lap in the heartbreaker rythm event, or Zayne patting her head on multiple occasions. In short, his preferred love language most of the time is acts of service, quality time, and physical touch.

Meanwhile, Sylus is playful and challenging towards the MC. He's bold and straightforward with his words; "I adore you." from an audio story or "I'm never annoyed when we do things together." from a claw machine voiceline. He also likes to buy things for her, like the gun he gifted her, custom clothes like a dress he mentions on his homepage voiceline at night (and the outfit you see MC wearing in his main storyline auction), a limited time plushie from a voicecall that the MC really wanted but couldn't get. He also gives MC access to the resources he accumulated over the years as the boss of Onychinus. His safe houses, armouries, and the base itself in the N-109 zone. Grand gestures like setting up fireworks outside her workplace as she clocks out and dinner date somewhere private for their anniversary is also something he does.We also know from his midnight secrets that they like to cuddle while sleeping or he likes to hold her hand or have a hand around her waist (from the main storyline chapters). In short, his preferred love language is words of affirmation, buying gifts, and physical touch most of the time.

Something random about Zayne and Sylus:

Zayne and MC like to write love letters and notes to each other (from the heartbreaker text you get after 3 starring the final bounty, I'm pretty sure.) Zayne also leaves some of his clothes at MC's place at times (a tie from an audio story). He also keeps mementos or items that remind him of MC in his hospital office (like a cup they made together in pottery class or the notes/letters MC writes for him.)

Sylus likes to show off when MC wins something at the claw machine (we know this from his voiceline about announcing it to the N-109 zone but we don't know if he actually does it) or gets a rare meow badge (from a moment post). He also has set of clothes ready for MC at his base and mansion (from an audio story). Sylus also likes to take MC on rides on his bike (I can't recall the source for this :sadface:). They also exchange music recommendations with each other.

Some of my notes on Xavier's personality and relationship with the MC:

Xavier and MC go on spontaneous food dates whenever both of them are free and hungry. They also read books together on a routinely basis (we know this from his birthday event) and also go on study dates sometimes to the library (this is from an audio story where MC was studying for her Hunter's exam in the library and Xavier was doing his own thing beside her)

Aside from how Xavier is with the MC, he doesn't seem to interact with people much and only keeps in touch with Jeremiah and some bookstore owner who he's friends with and spends most of his time either sleeping, fighting wanderers, or with MC. This is probably because he has had to change his identity alot while staying on Earth since he doesn't age.

Xavier isn't necessarily interested in botany but has a lot of plants in his apartment which also attracts birds of all kinds. The plants also seem to be thriving even though he doesn't go above and beyond to take care of them (I don't remember where this is from.) The reason he has alot of plants in his apartment though is because it was originally Jeremiah's apartment (from one of his anecdotes).

Xavier and MC like to people-watch together from their balconies. Xavier likes to text her when he sees something interesting (like the text about a cat outside their apartment or him spotting MC doing something). They also have a specific chat where they decide to people-watch together from their balconies though I can't remember the rest.

Xavier is an avid reader and has been following certain book series since their release (from an audio story where MC runs into him at a bookstore). He also lets MC borrow books from him (from a claw machine voiceline).

Some of my notes on Rafayel's personality and relationship with the MC:

Rafayel likes to spend time with MC and keep her around under the excuse of her being his bodyguard. Sending her on errands like buying art supplies for him and attending exhibitions and PR events with her (mentioned in multiple chats and moments). Thomas also likes to make use of this by having MC check on his painting progress occasionally and keep an eye/spy on him when he looks like he's going to do something suspicious (from an audio story where MC tails Rafayel on Thomas's request).

Rafeyel and MC go on beach dates and walks together often (This is from multiple texts, moments and stories). They also collect seashells for each other. I personally really love the whole ocean theme/symbolism Rafayel's character revolves around due to his Lemurian origin and connection with the sea. His love for his culture and his connection with anything sea related comes out in so many things related to him, from the location of his studio at Whitesand Bay to all the fish related jokes and comparisons he makes. His artwork from what we have seen in the chapter 1 end and the memory where he teaches MC how to paint also uses shades of blue commonly. (I think I like him so much because I love art myself LMAO)

Rafayel can cook seafood really well. Him and MC cook together sometimes and go on seafood dates (we know this from some of his audio stories and midnight secrets).

Rafayel and MC go diving into the deep sea together. Rafayel even showed her a whale whistle from his childhood that he kept in a Lemurian ruin (from an audio story where MC wanted to find a whale).

Rafayel does makeup really well and also has a certain knack for perfumes. He was invited to a perfume exhibition with MC in an audio story and did her makeup for her in another.

Aside from visual arts, Rafayel is a man of many talents. He can sculpt (from an audio story where he restored old sculptures), can sing and play many instruments, speaks multiple languages, has performed in Operas before, has good photography skills, and is well-versed in history and tradtions of many different cultures.

Rafayel and MC go to concerts and other performance dates together. He even keeps himself updated on MC's interests like live events of an artist she likes or following game updates of a game she plays (this is from their chats about concerts and game updates).

From what we have seen in world underneath stories or his anecdotes, Rafayel is cold towards people aside from MC and keeps everyone at a distance. His personality with MC is very open and carefree compared to people who approach him on their own like reporters or other lore related characters like bounty hunters from Ever group. He also seemed to be travelling to many places alone before he met MC in the main storyline and had Opera or other performances under a hidden identity.

All the LIs have killed someone for some reason or the other according to their lore.

Sylus' kills are the most obvious due to the nature of his work and him quite literally being a wanted criminal. From his first interaction with the MC in the main storyline to his anecdotes about raiding planets, we don't even have to expand on this.

Xavier and Rafayel have both killed people in their anecdotes right before the main storyline takes place, either to protect themselves or MC. Xavier was killing people from his home planet who were after him and Rafayel killed a bounty hunter. Interestingly so, both of them have huge bounties on their heads (Xavier's Lumiere identity has a bounty on it that we see put up in The Nest in one of the chapters). Rafayel, on the other hand, had an anecdote where he kills a bounty hunter from Ever who was after him. Another interesting thing is that Rafayel, Xavier, and Sylus all three seem to be connected to The Nest in some way or the other. Rafayel was at the Nest with MC in the main storyline, Xavier went there to gather information, and I'm not sure how Sylus might be related but I have a suspicion that he is LOL

Zayne's kills are the least obvious. Zayne, from what we know, hasn't killed anyone on purpose in the main timeline so far aside from his colleague William who turned into a wanderer at Mount Eternal. All of his kills have been in a different timeline even in his Anecdotes. Dawnbreaker does mercy killings in his world and the Foreseer has been implied to have killed the people who entered his tower.

This got surprisingly long LMAO

I might make a myth version on a seperate post for their individual myths once I play through them. And I'll probably be adding more onto this post if I have any other things I want to note down

Aside from that this is all basically just word vomit about the shit I think about related to them 😔

[slimepuparibaba]

Chaos in Linkon: AU where each of the LADS guys have an MC and also they all know each other

I want to make something like Chibi Linkon Report except it's with me and my friends and sisters MCs alongside the Love Interests and they all know each other

The MCs are like this:

Xavier's MC is one of the best sword wielders and an overall kind and caring hunter who helps people and is just as much a Disney Princess as Xavier who loves to garden and loves animals... but also she's a chronic insomniac and cannot sleep for her life, appears at Xavier's bedroom door like a sleep paralysis demon at 3AM, standing there silently, not wanting to wake him up so she just stands there. Her average amount of sleep is 1 hour. It's bad. It's really bad. Please help her. It's not even nightmares, it's just she literally cannot sleep.

Zayne's MC is seen as a role model in the workplace for her maturity, her poise, a reliable older sister figure to everyone... also she cannot taste anything, her taste buds don't work, so she likes the most extreme kind of food, accidentally gave Zayne the food she prepared for herself, it was way too fucking spicy to actual inhumane standards. Also, has a slight fear of doctors, just does not like visiting the hospital, going to checkups, etc. Zayne literally has to coax her for any of her check-ups with a date or a movie night after the fact. Her visits would be less frequent if she just stopped overworking herself so much (workaholic).

Rafayel's MC is beauty and grace, always wearing a smile and it's rare to see her upset about anything, a very cheerful person! She loves music, loves the ocean, perfect compliment to Rafayel! ...but also she is actually very scary, loves tragedy and horror and thrillers and slashers, and one time Rafayel walked in on her in the kitchen as she was holding a knife and there was red on her face (it was from some ketchup, but she looked terrifying). The moment she stops smiling is the day Linkon will be destroyed. Also, she cannot draw.

Sylus' MC is a temperamental girl that's sharp-tongued and strong-willed, as well as very headstrong. Sylus of Onychinus is her mortal enemy... until they're in a private space, then she's constantly seeking out his attention and getting pampered by him. Jumpy, actually a cat, and only fights Sylus because that's her love language apparently. She also has a corkboard in Onychinus' base solely for her insane ramblings about any conspiracies about Ever or the Aether Core and has lost sleep explaining it to him (and he just watches before putting her to bed).

Caleb's MC is the sweet, adorable little sister figure everyone loves, and is relatively shy at first glance but very friendly and a bit of a nerd! She also makes plushies for her friends! ...but also touch Caleb and you're dead. No, seriously, touch him and you're dead. She knows everything about Caleb, she has known him since they were kids, if anyone even thinks of hurting him or taking him away from her, they are dead. Touch him and you're dead. Did you know she made a plushie of him to keep her company while he was away, and that she stole one of his hoodies? And by one, we mean multiple? Do not touch her gege. Touch her gege and you're dead. That is her gege, her gege is hers, he is literally hers, she is just as much his as he is hers, do not fucking TOUCH HER GEGE—

Basically, all the girls are the same but also slightly different from their love interest. They compliment each other well.

Also the boys regularly hang out with the girls and it's funny because of how much of a found family all of them seem to be.

The girls all already see each other as sisters, so they're very close and like to spend time with one another. They give each other advice, drop by each other's apartments... they were all with each other during the initial days of the shelter due to being experimented on for the Aether Core (Yes, all of them have Aether Core fragments and are deemed Experiments 001-a, 001-b, 001-c, 001-d, and 001-e. They're part of the same Experiment Line due to their aether cores being so similar to each other.) Each girl has a super strong resonation with their partner. They can only exist in a universe where their partner is. This timeline is unique because all of them are now existing at once in one place at the same time, which is an abnormality and why Ever wants them so bad.

The boys "hate" each other with every fiber of their being, typically finding ways to insult each other or poke fun of someone. But also they all are definitely brothers in arms and do care for each other (somewhat, they would never admit it). Despite not knowing all the details, they know of each others' circumstances. All agree that if the time comes, they'd put aside their differences for the sake of their loved ones and try to reach a conclusion all of them would be satisfied with.

They're a mixed friend group that do hang out pretty often, and one of them somehow named themselves the "Aether Core Investigation Team".

I wanna post more about this AU and maybe make small drawings or comics of them cuz I just think it's fun.

Also Caleb mentioning there was an Experiment 001-f off-handedly to the guys and the guys immediately questioning who the fuck it is, where she went, as well as who their soul resonates with and why no one heard anything about them, only to say he was the only one who remembered they existed because all the others in the Experiment 001 line died and forgot. 001-f just randomly disappeared after that, so he does not know who they are or where they are anymore or if they even exist. AKA 001-f will be made once the 6th LI comes out and we finally coax one of our friends into finally playing the game.

ALSO FUN FACT: ALL MCS ARE NAMED AND HAVE BEEN MENTIONED SOMEWHERE ON AO3 BEFORE, BUT I WAS NOT THE ONE WHO WROTE ABOUT THEM! IT WAS MY SISTER! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA FIND OUT WHERE, IT'S A FIC FROM CALEB'S MC'S PERSPECTIVE :D

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 2

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1050

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

He doesn't book time off, not specifically. If he has something to do, Sylus will do it. The positives of running his organisation is that he doesn't need to answer to others, though he's not so foolish as to just up and disappear. Not again.

Unluckily for him, however, he's a busy man. It's a good thing, he's busy, and successful. When a business deal fails, it's because there's a better one to be found. If fates wants to gnash its teeth, if his luck wants to turn, he'll wrangle it under command and move forwards.

It was always a positive until he found you, now it's a bother. Not always, power means safety, money means security, having Onychinus under thumb means he can somewhat secure your presence in the N109 zone with far less worry.

Still, he's too aware that you do not want to be a bother. He knows the doctor is a busy man, he knows you're worried about disturbing the fish, he also knows that the prince pushes himself too much.

By extension of caring for his kitten, he finds himself caring for them. It's... bothersome.

(Nice.) A voice that sounds like yours, kind and warm and loving. Lilted like a song, whispers in his head.

Being busy equates in your mind to being unavailable.

He'd sent Mephisto out with a note, an invitation of sorts. Had he left it to you, he knows you'd go back to solitude and sitting at your phone, fighting the urge to message and call and cling. As though those who loved you wouldn't drop their responsibilities in seconds to be available. (Within reason, he's sure the doctor does stay more responsible than the fish does to his job.)

He can afford to let his job sit and stew. Can let others handle things. He doesn't enjoy it, you've made comments about him being a control freak. He isn't. He assures you, he trusts himself. That's all.

Mostly.

He does hire capable people though, would never make the mistake of another Sherman. Not if it resulted in a repeat of the past.

Tied up, bloodied knees, eyes wavering and lips trembling. False bravado on the edges of a burned out soul.

He's... excited though, to return to his base. Like his joined heart is jumping. He's not unused to the feeling, has learned so many new things in this new life at your side. Regret, joy, excitement, nervousness, fear.

It still bears marvelling though.

His Soul will be in his hands for a week. Perhaps he can convince their odd little accompaniment to lay down their varied weapons as well.

As he finds his way home, the exhaustion of long nights wrapping up long deals, he finds you. Curled up in front of the hearth, Luke and Kieran are slumbering next to you. A game of kitty cards lies forgotten and scattered, as though a tornado had run through it.

Mephisto is nestled in the crook of your neck, looking far more like the kitten he assigns to you than a crow.

He's as quiet as can be but the twins are used to sleeping light, and they blink tired eyes at him. Masks abandoned on the table, lined up next to each other carefully. "Hey boss."

Kieran grumbles something, rubbing his face and scratching at the scars on his neck, his teeth all visible as he yawns wide.

"We kept the hunter company for you Boss." He manages to speak properly this time, chasing sleep to the back of his mind, and grinning at Sylus as Luke's head slumps onto his shoulder. Dazed and still half out.

For him. He muses, as though he doesn't know that they eagerly await your visits as well. He's unsure if it's curiousity. After all, you bear the scars from Ever like they do. If it's amusement at watching their Boss change more in your presence. Or if it's simply that they like you. Like that you're soft where he's sharp, that you're kind where the world is not. That you care, and so many don't seem to. Not in the twins past, and certainly not in his.

Whatever their reasons, he trusts the twins when it comes to you. He knows they came to him to see him die, but when it comes to you, his only orders are to keep you safe. Allow for your happiness.

"They probably need more sleep." Luke adds, protective, giving their boss a look as if to say he better not disturb them. As though he found amusement in their sleepless nights.

His huff is unbecoming, but it escapes him without his permission. Giving the two an unamused look that makes them snicker until they look over at your sleeping form guiltily.

You let out a small noise in the back of your throat before rolling over, curling around Mephisto like you're protecting him from the world.

He thinks it's possible you are. In your dreams. Fighting monsters and fiends all to protect the people you love.

He's blessed, he thinks. That he's amongst the number. Even more blessed that he is not one of the fiends you fight.

Well. Playfully and with affection in your eyes, but no longer blood at your claws.

Still, the floor isn't comfortable, and he's tired too. Surely you'll allow him to relocate you and himself to expensive, cool sheets and tangled limbs.

As he lifts you, strong arms under legs and around the back of your neck, tight to his chest, he nods at the twins and ignores Mephisto's sleepy (if a robot can be capable of sleep) squawk of indignation at losing his heat supply.

You turn your head into his chest, rubbing your cheek against his expensive shirt. His name leaves your lips on an exhale, not even bothering to open your eyes as you know he has you, and he's here to keep you safe (though you barely need him for such a thing, a thing that makes him unbearably proud and unbearably sad.).

His steps falter, looking at you, hearing his name. So warm, so sweet, so perfect. As you drift back off, he walks down halls that aren't long enough. Into his lair and to a place he can't be disturbed with you.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Nine

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 3,530

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature context

Notes; Final chapter for the weekend unless I'm feeling crazy and I post chapter ten on Saturday or Sunday- which could be possible. I will apologize up front because reader is annoyed with Kieran and Luke at first, but I want to make this as realistic as possible. I feel like any normal person would be a bit on edge and snappy during this whole ordeal- and also understandably scared of Sylus. I love him so much but he would come off as scary at first, even if we know he's a teddy bear. I also added some flower language, because I feel like Sylus and flowers go hand-in-hand (like Hades and Peresephone).

Another reminder, Sylus's emoji is ❤️

Prev || Next

Masterlist

“She won't be sleeping forever, right? She's been unconscious for a day now. Shouldn't we try waking her up?”

“Easy! Just open up a hole in the back of her head. Drill a hole in her neck and…”

Your eyes sluggishly open. Your hand still felt numb from the gun's recoil. You clench your hand into a fist a few times before looking over at the two men in the room who immediately hide the darts and drills behind their backs. You sit up, rubbing your temples, “You two-”

“You're seeing things. I'm the only one here. There is no “two”.” The man with the left horn piercing says and you raise a brow with a scoff, shaking your head as you take note of the room you're in.

The room was old and empty, dust lining mostly everything in sight. It was dark. A black-grey cotton blanket hangs off the bed frame. Once you're done looking at the room, you point to the right horn piercing man behind the first one. “Then who's that?”

You're clearly not amused and not in the mood to be gaslit.

“My soul can leave…my body…” and the right man sticks his hands through his chest, convulsing his body and you use all of your strength to not pull your hair out. “Are you stunned? Shocked? Boooring.” The right one says and you're really not finding where the joke begins and ends.

“Ahem…Hi Y/n. Before you left boss’ parlor..well, we already met. Four days ago to be exact.” Left piercing says and then right piercing continues, “We didn't just save you from that ungrateful traitor. We also brought you back to Onychinus’ base.”

“So…do you want a thank you?” You tilt your head to the side, feeling a headache coming on but you notice the wounds on your knees were well taken care of so you try your best not to take your anger out on them. Even if the twins were sent by Sylus to keep an eye on you.

While you were mentally prepared for this situation, finding yourself actually in it was a whole different ballpark. You were definitely in over your head.

You think back to what happened after you shot Sylus..

Your ears rung from the gunshot and the smell of smoke filled the air. You were finally able to have control over your actions and you immediately asked if he were crazy.

“You wanted to take my life and so you've taken it.” He held a hand on the muzzle of the gun, breathing a bit heavier now that he had blood on his face. He tossed the gun to the side, letting it clatter to the floor. “Now what? Have you already figured out how you'll pay me back?”

You were too busy in panic mode. “You can't die yet.” You pat your hand over his chest before placing both of your hands over the gunshot, worried on how you'd stop the bleeding but Sylus takes a hold of your wrists, “Why? Are you worried about me?” He chuckles, his red and black evol energy swirling under your palms. Then, he sits up. “Save that for the day you actually succeed in killing me.”

As you looked down at your shaky, bloody hand, you realized the blood faded away in a black smoke until your hand was clean.

“We know what you're thinking,” the left twin, named Luke, pulls you out of your thoughts. “But after being hunted down in the Nest, do you know how many people are out there looking for you?” “And even if you escape, you'll only get lost in the chaos of this no-man's land.” Kieran, the right twin, adds.

Did you really want to leave? It would be a good option but definitely not a smart one. Sure, you're a bit traumatized..thinking you killed a hot man and also that little voice in your head, but leaving? But if that's what they assumed then it's clear what you should be trying to do to follow the game as safely as you can.

“Wanderers will eat you up…and they also won't leave behind any crumbs so-” Luke keeps trying to say things to make you stay. “Stay here with our boss!” Kieran decides to join Luke as they say it together.

Did they…somehow think you and their boss had a thing for each other? How could they get such a wrong idea…though you wouldn't be opposed to it, you're still currently scared of him. Scared of the situation at hand.

“Throw away all morality and compassion, and this place will be a paradise!” Kieran and Luke are still talking. They sure yap a lot. “By the way, who's older? You two are basically identical twins,” you ask, trying to throw them off. “Take a guess.” Luke immediately bites the bait. “Could you come closer so I can get a better look?” You softly question, trying to seem as calm and innocent as possible.

Which seems to work, since Luke walks closer without even an ounce of suspicion. When he's within reach, you pull out a laser pointer and hold it against his neck so you can threaten him. “Hey- What're you doing!?”

“Hmm have you heard of the XT-7, the Hunters Association’s latest weapon?” You raise a brow, thumb hovering above the trigger of the laser pointer. “It's a high powered laser that can penetrate your skin and vaporize your blood. The good news is its quick and painless but…the bad news is that you'll be losing a lot of blood. Are either of you squeamish?” You shoot them an innocent smile.

The two of them fall silent before Kieran opens the door and moves aside. “Did we say you weren't allowed to leave?”

You blink a few times, pressing your lips into a thin line. Damn you and your overthinking. Gosh, that's embarrassing.

You clear your throat and step into the dimly lit hallway with both of the twins, trying to brush off your threats from earlier. “Okay, just go straight down the hall and you’ll see the exit.” Kieran says, pointing to a door as you let go of Luke, who rubs his neck and promptly rushes over to Kieran’s side to hide behind him.

Though his gaze was still on the laser pointer in your hand. It’s a shame to let it go since you had gotten it for Estelle or Leo but…”Do you want it?” You ask him with a raised brow before you toss it toward him, “Here.” Luke, who is clearly surprised, catches it, “Really? That’s very nice of you to just give away a hunter’s secret weapon.” “It’s…a laser pointer,” You cover your mouth with a hand as you laugh. “You…-” You hear the slight embarrassment in Luke’s voice.

You flash a playful smile at him, moving to step in front of them both with your hands behind your back. “Did I ever say it was the XT-7?” Your laugh slightly rings out in the empty hallway as you get further and further away from the twins, who began whispering between each other behind you.

“How far do you think she’ll get? Thirty meters?” Luke whispers to Kieran, who chuckles, “I bet not even ten steps.” “I’ll…say five then.” Luke retorts, always trying to one up his twin.

Their voices slowly fade into the background as you kept walking down the hallway. You lift your arm up to look at your hunter’s watch, a bit surprised that they left it on you but then you realize it has no signal. Great. A sigh escaping your lips. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. The corridor before you is completely dark save for a few lights littering the tops of doorways, feeling almost like an endless tunnel or some kind of catacombs. While you really didn’t expect them to be kind enough to show you the way out, leaving that room could already be considered progress. At least, the most progress you’ve made since being here.

There are several, small crystal vases on the shelf by the wall. The drooping flowers in them have already withered which is a shame since they would’ve been so pretty. You notice daffodils- also known as a narcissus flower, poppy flowers, honeysuckles, baby’s breath, and a singular red rose.

You knew a tiny bit of flower language, having noticed a sign on the wall in Jeremiah’s flower shop a few days ago and from how much you were into Greek mythology in your past life. Narcissus flowers were what distracted Persephone before she was taken by Hades, poppy flowers mean ‘I am not free’, honeysuckle means ‘devoted affection’, baby’s breath means 'everlasting love', and red roses mean ‘I love you’. You were unsure of how to interpret any of that, but the narcissus flowers stood out to you most. Sylus really did feel like Hades…so would that make you Persephone? He was the leader of the underground, the N109 Zone…

On the other side of the vases is a black bird, a crow. It’s perched on a marble pillar that’s half as tall as a human with its metal wings tucked in. Was it just a statue? You weren’t so sure since you did recall seeing a crow fly onto Sylus’ shoulder whenever you first met him. Its eyes appear to be made of rubies. They glow with a lustrous yet haunting hue in the darkness. Its eyes suddenly move, fixing its gaze on you without blinking. You jump a bit, placing a hand over your chest as you narrow your eyes. Was this thing really alive? You take a deep breath and reach toward it to make sure whenever it suddenly spreads its wings and flies toward you. Its razor sharp feathers narrowly miss the top of your head as it passes through the thin gap of an open door. To pass through the corridor, you’ll have to go through there so maybe it was trying to show you the way? You hesitate for a moment, deciding to follow the crow after a few seconds since you had nowhere else to go.

Melodious classical music seeps out from behind the door, making the corridor even more peaceful- though a bit creepy. A relaxed male voice rings out amidst the graceful song. It feels akin to hearing a monologue behind a curtain.

“...they plan to implant protocores into human hearts. Then they’ll insert the human consciousness into wanderers. Their little project has a name. The Fountain of Atei..” The unfamiliar voice says and you can hear Sylus’ bored voice from the room. “You should know I’m not interested in other people’s business..and Mephisto said you lied. You’re not even telling me everything. It’s a shame you threw away your last chance.”

Mephisto? Why does that sound familiar…Anyway, you assume that man is probably about to die soon.

“No! Please forgive me…You can still use me as a tool! I…” “Our deal is over. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to entertain a more important guest.” Your body tenses up and you internally curse. If you’ve learnt anything from watching movies, then you know he knew you were behind the door. You strain your ears to try and listen to more but the pleading voice is gone, almost as if it were never there in the first place. Nothing but silence remains.

Then, the music that was playing before transitions into a more gentle song played by string instruments. “Aren’t you going to come in?” You hear Sylus ask and you know he’s not talking to anyone else but you. The twins sent you in this direction for a reason.

You grumble under your breath before stepping into the room, pausing as you enter it. The room was beautiful from the clean, white tablecloth to the silverware sparkling under the light to even the ice bucket with bottles of red wine. The gory scene you envisioned wasn’t here. Inside this calm room, it was almost like the other man inside never even existed, vanishing without a trace. You suddenly felt…hungry? How could you feel hungry after hearing all of that? Sylus waltzes over to the table, picking up a decanter and stepping over to your side as he pours you a glass of wine. One of your hands grabs onto the chair in front of you, squeezing on it to try and level your head as it felt like a crushing weight was pressed down on top of it. The same suffocating feeling you felt earlier trying to resurface as one hand darts out to grab a knife from the table.

“This will be useful for defending yourself in the N109 Zone.” Sylus lets out a cold chuckle as he places a familiar gun on the table. “Are you trying to mock me or something?” You raise a brow at him, grip tightening on the knife in your hand. “I’m giving you a way out.” He states as if it's clear as day what he means, “Since you can’t escape, why don’t we make a deal?” You take a shallow breath, drinking the wine in your hand as if to steel your nerves for what comes next. “Onychinus’s modus operandi is buying and selling by force. Too bad, I’m not interested.” At least, you have to act not interested since it would be out of character for you to openly accept this without having some big reason. You drink some more wine, feeling the burning in your stomach as it was stronger than you thought but you couldn’t stop drinking. You felt too hungry, too thirsty. It’s as if you were trying to numb yourself with this sensation.

“As long as you have desires, there will always be deals to make,” Sylus says as he tucks his thumbs in his pockets. His crimson eyes full of malice as he flashes a hint of a smile. Your gaze down to his smile before noticing how his tall figure blocks out some of the light…his right eye starting to glow once more. He’s got to be using some kind of power and when he uses it, you’ll be in a daze and experience auditory hallucinations.

“So many days have come and gone. You should know your own desires by now,” Sylus says as he twirls a coin around in his hand, flipping it into the air. You press your lips together in a thin line. You had a few thoughts, sure. A few desires. Some you’d rather not admit aloud. Okay, more than a few actually but that’s beside the point. What does he even want to know? “Only I can give you what you want.” His voice drops to a whisper, dripping with an emotion you can’t describe. Your hand clenches into a fist as you clear your throat and turn your head away. You wouldn’t lie, that did sound hot, but you knew he wasn’t talking about where your mind went. “And you will agree to my terms.”

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment as you refuse to be controlled by this man. “What terms?” You ask, stepping closer to Sylus as you hold your head up high to look up at him. Your head tilting to the side. “You just want me to resonate with you, right? You know what,” You shake your head with a sharp laugh, “Sure, I’ll accept this deal. It’s not like I have much leverage in this situation anyways. I resonate with you and you give me the aether core from Onychinus’s auction-'' You grab onto his hand. His fingers are long and his palm is cold, even touching his hand faintly brings forth a sense of dread.

“Release me. You can’t do that just yet.” He sighs, shaking his head and you let out a huff, “Don’t move!” You look up at him with furrowed brows, being spurred on by your want to hurry up and leave. Trying to find a hint of emotion or anything on his face and for a moment, a complex and incomprehensible struggle appears in his gaze. What could be the reason for that? Where does the power in his right eye come from? Why does it feel so oddly familiar to you? Is it related to the aether core? Time passes ever so slowly, silence filling the room. “Why is it..” You murmur under your breath but you refuse to give up, gripping his hand tighter as you try to focus on resonating with the man. It was never this difficult to resonate with the others, so why wasn’t it working now? The invisible pressure swelling around you becomes stronger and the alcohol inside you was gradually subsiding as you slowly realized you made a very dangerous move.

You blink a few times and let out a small, awkward laugh. “Ah…” You straighten your posture and quietly try to let go of Sylus’ hand and yet for all his denying from earlier, he grips your hand more tightly, not allowing you to pull away from him. “Maybe…I’ve been too kind to you.” His voice deeply drawls as he keeps a firm grip on your hand. You couldn’t even try to pull away if you wanted to now. “You- let go!” Your cheeks are puffed up in a pout, not even noticing how comfortable you’re getting with him.

“Even if you keep holding on to me like this, I can’t resonate with you. It’s not something I can just do on a whim! I could do it so easily with…” You stop yourself from finishing your sentence and Sylus raises a brow, “Hmm…after all that arrogance, it seems like you can’t even control your own evol.” “...at the very least it doesn’t want to be activated in front of you,” You murmur under your breath as you pout, lowering your gaze away from him. Though once you look back up at him, you notice his gaze is on your interlocked hands. He stares at them blankly for a few minutes before he finally begins to let go. You rub your wrists and take a few steps back, your breathing and heartbeat gradually returning back to normal.

You both were at a standstill. Then, with a thoughtful expression, he leans back in his chair and looks at you. “Just as I thought. You’re too weak.” He rests his hand under his chin with a thoughtful expression on his face. Is everyone in the N109 Zone weird? Because you like to think you’ve gotten a considerable amount stronger, especially since you’ve been training for two months now. Sylus pinches the area between his brow, then raps his knuckles against the table. “Eat as much as you want.” He says those words like he’s giving out an order that won’t be questioned.

You look over all of the food on the table, suddenly being reminded of the Hades and Persephone myth. The specific part where if you eat the food of the Underworld then you’re trapped there. Your gaze lands on an oddly coincidental pomegranate on the table. “What? Are you..” The word ‘insane’ hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you force yourself to stop talking. You turn to look back at the long, seemingly endless table behind you. It is certainly filled with a wide variety of food but the lavishness of it is almost dizzying. Any other time it would probably be quite attractive for a man to be showing off his wealth like this but you’re unsure of how to feel since you don’t know just where all of this wealth came from.

“I’ll give you ten minutes. After you’re done, come find me outside the base’s entrance. You better hope our deal is successful. Otherwise, consider this your last meal.” You tense up as Sylus walks past you to leave the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding and drop to the ground, your knees giving out. “Jesus christ…” You mutter, exasperated. This was not normal at all. You weren’t sure how you were going to be able to get used to any of this but you can’t ponder much on it as you feel a buzzing in your pocket. “What-” You reach in and pull your phone out. Why the hell did you still have your phone? You check your new messages and see one from a random number, getting flashbacks to the unknown number before you woke up in this world but turns out, it’s just Sylus.

❤️ :’Ten minutes. Dont forget.’

You roll your eyes, pulling out a chair to sit down as you tell him to make it twenty since you haven’t eaten in a day or two. You decide to push your worries about Hades and Persephone aside, changing his nickname in your phone to ‘Hades’ before you start eating. If you’re going to keep up this act of being fine, then you really need some food in your system.

If the dialogue feels a bit stiff, that's because it is. It's so hard to fit my own words into the story itself whenever there's so much dialogue. I can't have what I want the reader to say, because the storyline is too built up on what the original mc says and her reactions to the world around her...but I will criticize her every action as the reader's thoughts, because some things that she does are rather dumb. Or they don't make sense for the narrative.

Chapter ten is another one of my favourites and includes more flower language so I hope you're excited for it 🩷 I think flower language is so pretty and really fits 'Love and Deepspace'. Because just a single flower can tell a big story. Like the flowers I chose, in-game there wasn't any flowers at all. In the vase, they were wilted so instead, I just looked up flower language and chose a few to tell a narrative! These are the small changes I wanted to do with the original story so I hope they don't catch y'all too off guard.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes

[himbodruid]

Here’s a little snippet from a LADS fic i’m currently writing

Sylus x (named)MC

Touch her and 💀 kinda vibes

This first bit is from Sylus POV. This part is pretty tame but the full thing will be 18+

The Kitten and The Crow

“Kitten?” He questioned when the call connected.

“S-Sy,” came her labored breathing. A pained whine escaped from her and he growled.

“Where are you?” His question came as a sharp demand, grateful that he had already sent Mephisto to find her.

“Sylus, d-don’t-“ her words ended in a cry as the sharp crack of flesh connecting with flesh came across the line. Rage pulsed through Sylus at the sound of a struggle before the line went dead.

The deep crimson-streaked shadows shrouded him as he transported himself to the rooftops. He couldn’t feel her aether core anymore, but he somehow knew she was still within the N109 Zone. Within his territory.

There. A signal from Mephisto and the copper stench of fresh blood flooded his senses and he followed the crow’s direction.

He arrived in the alleyway that Mephisto hovered over, blocks away from his own base. A man held her limp form by the throat, gloating to her unconscious figure.

“Once we get that Onychinus bastard out here, he’s done for!” Maniacal laughter followed his statement as he tossed her haphazardly to the side.

“Ah. So, you intended for a trap, then,” Sylus said with a deadly calm, dropping into the mouth of the alleyway in a cloud of darkness.

“So, it’s true. The hunter is your weakness after all,” said the man as he turned his wild gaze on Sylus. Sylus didn’t recognize him, but figured the idiot must be from an opposing faction.

“Do you know what happens when you touch what is mine,” he said with a deadly calm, striding into the alley. In the darkness, an eerie red glow began to emanate from a single eye, his right eye, as he let the fury take over.

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Onychinus' Base (Part 1)

Location: N109 Zone

Details:

Onychinus' Base is one of Sylus' places of residence (because, according to his Memory, he has many). During the protaganist's first time there, its appearance led her to conclude the owner hadn't lived there in a long time.

There are a lot of rooms to cover at the base, so bear with me lol. Since we have way more details to cover for the bedroom, I'm gonna have to do a part 2 just for that.

Areas & Rooms:

Okay, the areas I'll cover in this post are the following:

The Base Entrance

The Hallway

The Armory

The Boxing Gym

The Gem Vault

The Dining Rooms(?)

(A brief note concerning "Bedroom Adjacent Room")

The Base Entrance:

The main story includes a scene where the protagonist meets Sylus in a dining room(?), where he gives her ten minutes to eat her fill before meeting him at the base's entrance. When she goes to meet him there, we see Sylus reclining against his motorcycle. The protagonist descends a short set of steps to join him. And judging by the appearance of the skyline behind it, it seems to be in an elevated area?

This scene pans downward and then momentarily shifts slightly to the left. For that reason, please enjoy my screenshot patchwork masterpiece.

The Hallway:

The second time the protaganist wakes up at Onychinus' base, she's being held in the gem vault (covered later in this post). Upon leaving the vault, she enters a hallway.

From the hallway, she mentions that one of the corridors has several small, crystal vases on a shelf by the wall. In them are several drooping, withered flowers.

It is through this hallway that she accesses various places in the base. Namely, the "Dining Room #1", the boxing gym, and the armory.

According to Kieran, she'd see the base's exit by going "straight down the hall" (left).

And it potentially connects to a garage (based on when she enters the hallway from the armory; right).

The Armory:

At the start of Sylus' "Captivating Moment" Myth, the protagonist finds him the armory at the Onychinus base (top left).

This Myth story mentions them exiting the armory through a door. And, immediately after exiting, Sylus is depicted in the hallway mentioned previously (top right).

The Boxing Gym:

The boxing gym is said to be located in the "corner of the base". In the scene preceding its onscreen debut, the protagonist is standing in the hallway we previously discussed. She then turns to the left to leave the hallway before arriving at the gym. It is a large room that includes a boxing ring and a punching bag.

The Gem Vault:

The gem vault is the second room the protaganist wakes up in at the base when Luke and Kieran are monitoring her. This room is frequently shown in-game. But in Sylus' storyline for the "Yes, Cat Caretaker" event, this room is what is shown when they are in his gem vault.

While the gem vault interior "isn't brightly lit", the protaganist describes it as "still illuminated by dazzling and colorful gems". She goes on to state that Sylus was sitting through "mountain-like piles of gems" and crystals.

After Kieran opens the door so she can leave the room, the protaganist is shown in the hallway again. And by entering the door ahead, she enters "Dining Room #1" where the subsequent scene occurs.

The Dining Rooms?

There are two different rooms that seem like dining rooms. But their purposes are not specified in-game. There's "Dining Room #1" (the one where the protagonist overhears Sylus' conversation with an unknown person) and "Dining Room #2" (the one where Luke and Kieran help the protagonist in the "Midnight Stealth" memory)

"Dining Room #1":

The protaganist describes this room as calm and "beautiful, from the clean white tablecloth to the silverware sparkling under the light to even the ice bucket with bottles of red wine". At that time, the table was filled with countless dishes and Sylus gave her ten minutes to eat as much as she wanted.

"Dining Room #2":

This is the one featured in the "Midnight Stealth" memory. In this scene, Luke and Kieran help the protaganist strategize in her efforts to get Sylus' brooch. It's not the same room as "Dining Room #1" because this one features checkered flooring and couches. Additionally, the walls are quite different.

The "Bedroom Adjacent Room" Note:

Technically, there's one more room other than the bedroom. We get a glimpse of it when Sylus kicks the protagonist out of his room in "Midnight Stealth". But since it's literally right outside his room, I'll cover it in part 2.

(Welp... in retrospect, I should have said I'd cover it in part 3 😂)

[maevesque]

Maeve 🥀 From the blood and soil these flowers blossom. RP Blog, Read first. 21+ ; Crafted by @spiderlilypetals

> Quick information under cut.

His Persephone (Sylus)

She was meant to go to the auction to learn more about Aether Cores, like the one fused in her heart, but plans changed when Sylus had rescued her after she was being taken away by someone that wasn't from Onychinus. She meets Sylus and at the beginning it was rough on her end, assuming Sylus was just like her father, of course—he ultimately proves her wrong and learns that he, too, has an Aether Core, but his was located in his eye. It didn't take long for her to warm up to him, and evidently, fall for him. You are the kindest thing that ever happened to me, even if that is not how our tale is told.

His Penelope (Caleb)

Attending flight school in Skyhaven, she meets Caleb there, however, when her courses were completed, despite their time spent there together and getting to know each other, they didn't keep in touch until one day when she was visiting Josephine, she was surprised the 3rd mysterious guest was Caleb. Unbeknownst to the two, Josephine was plotting something and little did Maeve know that Caleb would be sneaking his way into her heart. I will fall in love with you, over and over again, I don't care how, where or when, no matter how long it's been, you're mine.

Tags to block

allure = aesthetics, poems, drawings, etc (may have odd fixations, grotesque, etc) wish upon a crimson moon = nsfw/suggestive posts, texts, etc feed your desires = nsfw/suggestive threads

Disclaimer

Mun and muse are 21+ // Mun uses she/they, Maeve uses she/her // Ageless blogs = softblocked | Minors = blocked // Don't lie about your age either.

NSFW, suggestive and triggering themes will be present. Please mind the tags provided under "Tags to block" to give you an idea of tags that you may want to block.

Maeve's main LIs are Sylus and Caleb; each housed in their own separate universe, as are any other thread with Maeve; do not godmod or I will end our RP.

In addition, assuming that Maeve is 'cheating' based off a thread that doesn't include you/your muse is godmodding.

Sporadic replies, I reply when my energy permits it.

Do not feed my writing into any AI bots or generators.

Open to interact with other MCs, OCs, and LADS muses + muses that are outside of the LADS universe. Emoji anons are also very much welcomed.

Plotting is always welcomed, just let me know if you're interested.

Mun speaks after [ or in posts tagged #mun is typing...

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Onychinus Base (Part 3)

Location: N109 Zone

Details:

Okay, this should be the last installment of this series lol. But to wrap things up, I'll briefly cover the "Bedroom Adjacent Room". As stated in previous posts, the images on the left side are unalteted screenshots and the ones on the right have been brightened to reveal greater detail.

The Bedroom Adjacent Room:

This is a room we get just a few glimpses of in Sylus' "Midnight Stealth" Bond memory. There's a "blink and you'll miss it" shot through the bedroom door as the protaganist runs to hide from Sylus.

And we get another peek when Sylus later kicks her out of his room.

Theorized Floorplan:

Drawing from these two scenes, here's everything I know of its layout with respect to the bedroom.

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Onychinus Base: Locations

Due to the increasing number of locations depicted/referenced in-game, this post will serve as a master list of sorts for everything known thus far.

List:

(Part 1):

Base Entrance

Hallway

Armory

Boxing Gym

Gem Vault

The Dining Rooms?

(Part 2):

Sylus' Bedroom

(Part 3):

Bedroom Adjacent Room

(Part 4):

Cellar

Kitchen