#mc is a feral cat and so is sylus

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Heavy hurt|Some comfort, Semi-canon compliant heart condition, Spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content).

Word Count: 4170

Written: 23rd December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Monster, by STARSET

You've been responding to his messages, Sylus notes, but something's off. He's been away on some inane business trip, ever since you, the doctor, the fish, the prince and he had visited a new kitty cafe opening. He rarely gets to see you visibly excited, you are worse at showing your feelings on your face than he is. Whenever you're faced with animals, of any kind, even Mephisto, your eyes sparkle and you could easily spend hours upon hours sat with them. Even more so if they let you pet them.

The first time you'd seen the evol kitties, according to the doctor, you'd been unsure. They didn't look like cats. Something off and a little wrong, but they mewed at you and straight away you'd gently stroked their noses. As if unable to hold back.

Since then you would drag any of them along to play kitty cards. You didn't like the game, had no patience for strategy, but you did like petting the cats. Sitting there between every round, barely looking at the board, and tickling small whiskers. Much to the fish's distress.

While Sylus doesn't really care if he wins or loses around you, he's almost assured a win when playing with you because it's simply not something you care about. Distracted and unbothered by the game. He's only relieved that when he sprouted ears and a tail (of the caracal kind), you had been just as enamoured with those. Finally smothering him in affection in the same way, and being distracted by his tail. Though he'd never confess to competing with cats, at this point it's just an everyday occurrence.

He found he enjoyed playing most with the doctor, unlike when the man played with you, he took no soft approach with Sylus, and it was fun to butt heads with him. Stubborn as they both could be. That left you to lean your head on the fish's lap, the prince asleep against your side already, and play with cats, to a backdrop of 'You're cheating', 'I'm simply better at this than you.', 'If you would stop getting distracted-' that you mostly blocked out.

Rounds later, he paid the bill before anyone else got chance to, and picked up some cakes to take back.

Then he'd had his business trip to attend, having moved things around so on your rare day off, you could see everyone. It was never fun to drop you off, Sylus missed you anytime he could not see you, and though he was prideful, he had been honest about not being able to sleep without the sound of your voice. A confession you'd flushed at and tugged at one of the straps of your prosthetic.

He'd watched you waver over how to respond, biting at your lip, and fidgeting, as you fought against your urge to run away from him.

Trying didn't come easy, you'd told him. Honesty and openness, it got even harder when you'd lost your family, it got easier with every day you were given room to breathe by all of them, and every friend you held dear to your 'broken' heart. He didn't want to dig, or poke at old wounds, not now you were trying to live... but he often saw too much of himself in you.

Whether it was because of the way you'd grown up, or his soul inside of you, it made him even more careful and aware of offering you what you offered him.

"I'll miss you too, Sy. Call me, alright?" Your finally settled on, cool metal hand taking his in yours and squeezing. Before he'd left you, reluctant and complaining, he'd pressed kisses over your face, down your neck, and finally pushed you to the wall of your apartment building, to steal all the air from your lungs. Thigh holding you up, as he tangled his hands in your hair.

When he'd tried to pull away, he couldn't quite, leaning back in once, twice, three times, chasing the warmth of your mouth. Over and over.

You'd laughed, pushing him back to breathe, gasping, "It's a week. We'll be fine for a week."

A week... you aren't possessive enough, he thinks, spinning his pen in his hand. Half listening to Luke and Kieran talk. He feels as though he's emptied and lost, missing parts of what makes him who he is, and your messages feel... the same.

He could be reading into it... you're not exactly one to put your heart on your sleeve, or cling. You're independent because you've had to be, and he still hasn't had enough time to get you to lean all of your weight on him.

So he sends a message into the group chat without you, made in order to plan surprises or outings.

🐦‍⬛: Is everything ok back home?

⛄️: Aren't you busy?

🐦‍⬛: I'm taking a break.

They don't have to know he's tuning out his business partners, hoping they'll talk themselves out so he can leave.

🐠: lucky, some of us have r busy

🐠: [Attached photo]

🐦‍⬛: Please tell me that's not paint on my walnut table.

🐠: won't answer u then

⭐️: looks more colourful now

He rubs the space between his eyes, already dreading returning to the mess, and regretting letting the fish use his space for storing work while his studio is being fumigated. The partners at the table tense at his action, but he doesn't bother sparing them a glance, so they relax and resume talking.

🐦‍⬛: Is anyone going to answer my question?

⛄️: Is there a reason you're asking?

He hesitates, it's just a feeling, if he worries everyone, and it's nothing...

No, he didn't get this far by not trusting his instincts.

🐦‍⬛: Kitten's messages have felt off.

Two exclamation reactions are his instant response, the fish and prince. They start to type, then stop, then start again.

🐠: what way?

⭐️: have U called them?

⛄️: Calm down, they took some time off work because of a cold.

🐠: y didn't anyone tell us?

⛄️: I thought they would have asked Tara to contact you, or contacted you themselves?

🐦‍⬛:  They didn't.

⭐️: ive been on mission for a couple of days, i can stop in tomorrow when its over

He puts his phone down too forcefully and looks at the room. He's... irritated. Not like he normally is when it comes to you, a childish way where he can't have enough as he likes from you. Like you're a toy he cannot stop playing with. He's almost angry, but mostly sad.

He's been patient, surely you can at least talk to him if you feel sick?

Sylus is done with this trip, he's bored of listening to people talk nonsense, and he has no need for anything they have to offer. "We're done here, Luke. Kieran."

Waving his hand absently and ignoring protests behind him, he leaves the room, phone in hand.

🐦‍⬛: I'm coming back now.

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

Jenna had sent you home, it's not the first time she has. You're terrified one day she'll get bored of having to keep track of your health. Or you'll really let her down, and get you... or more importantly someone else, hurt.

It's probably not a normal mindset to worry so much about what your boss thinks, or to fear disappointing them like they're your parent.

It's not like you have parents to know what's that like... but gran's disappointment every time you got into fights growing up... well it was enough.

Caleb used to cover for you, within reason. He lectured you, told you to pull yourself up and figure it out. That fighting every battle against every jerk you met, reckless and stupid, would get you killed. "Come on pipsqueak, use that energy for something better. Something worthwhile."

So many reasons you didn't want to or couldn't, you wanted to tell him... a hand clenched over your chest.

You were so tired of disappointing them both though, so tired of seeing worn eyes tending to cuts and bruises. Bandaging your back, or fixing the set of your arm.

Being a hunter was that answer. If you used what little life you had in you, unsure when your busted up heart would give out finally, then you could greet Caleb and Gran with pride. Your life was a tool, to make others better.

So every day you weren't working, felt like a day you were failing them... failing to be worth anything other than the core in your chest. A vessel with no purpose or value but to hold something you hated. That could kill you.

It wasn't like you could work like this though... you'd laughed at your partners when they'd sprouted ears and tails. Especially Raffy, he'd been so disgruntled at the fate that had befallen him. This was... probably karma. Pointed, soft ears on top of your head, pinned back against your skull. Pristine white, so they at least blended into your hair.

At your back, a bristled tail, huge and furry... already having picked up some dirt to sully what had been pure white.

It hadn't settled since it had appeared, and you wondered what that said about you...

Fucked up mess. Stupid fool. Useless.

Too loud, everything was too loud. You could hear your neighbours through the walls, all the cars below your apartment, every child crying, dog barking, cat mewling.

It hurts.

You covered your ears with your hand, but noise filtered in through the new set you'd acquired.

Hurts.

You'd grown accustomed to the state of your heart. If you don't pay attention you can miss something, and you care now... perhaps you always did, just too raw like an open wound to let yourself.

It's racing and panicked. You don't need your hunter's watch to know it's too fast. 

Burying yourself into your bed, you cover your head with the duvet, grab at your headphones to shove them into your ears, turning them as loud as they can go, and bury your head under the pillows.

Your phone buzzes at your side, and you don't want to touch it. Scared to leave the cocoon you've built for yourself.

You'd begged Tara to tell Zayne you were sick with a cold, that you would be fine soon. She'd given you a heartbroken look that had made you bristle further, pity. Always pity.

You didn't want pity.

Before your fraying emotions could get the best of you, you'd fled the hunters association, hood up over your head and run home.

You can feel your tail trembling, struggling to swish under the blanket as you struggle to calm down, to at least get some sleep.

Maybe if you sleep it will go away.

Maybe when you wake up you'll feel better.

Useful.

Worth having around.

Not on the cusp of disappearing with nothing to show for yourself.

-----

When you'd woken up, tail still bristled, and newly acquired fangs digging into your bottom lip. Blood staining the bedsheet, you'd finally fished your phone out from your nest.

3am.

The world was quieter for it, and you wondered if this was part of why Sylus preferred the night to day.

You didn't remove your headphones, but you did finally open up your messaging app, seeing messages from everyone.

TaraTara💖: I hope you're ok bestie, if you need anything let me know.

Number One Lumiere Fan: Tara said you were sick, if you have time, I have a few shows you could watch to waste time. Only one is about Lumiere! Promise!

Simone (the one whose guns explode): Hey! Tara said you weren't doing so hot, if you want some company for a movie night, I make the best soup you'll ever have!

Captain: Remember to actually get some rest, take advantage of the break, alright? Everything will be fine here.

🐠cute fishie 🐠: hey cutie, wat do u think?

🐠cute fishie🐠: [Attached Image]

⭐️little star⭐️: missions going well, how are U?

⛄️sweet snowman⛄️: Tara said you're sick, I'll come over to check on you as soon as I can. Make sure you eat and drink.

🐦‍⬛pretty bird🐦‍⬛: Meetings are always more boring without you kitten, I hope you're missing me as much.

Your tail settles, curling against your side, fur flattening and you try really hard not to cry. You wish you'd thanked Tara when you left instead of fleeing, overstimulated and hurting.

Wounded like the cat you're teasingly referred to as. Feral and ready to hiss and scratch. You've spent so many years shutting people out.

Shutting Gran and Caleb out.

Shutting them out you wasted so much time until it was too late.

Why can't you learn?

You force yourself to respond, trying to sound as much yourself as you can... it's unnerving, to wear a mask over a mask. You wonder if you'll ever recognise your reflection.

You hesitate as you go to respond to your partners. You should tell them, reaching up to roughly pull the ears on your head. They'd understand, they've been where you are. Your brain says you should go to the kitty cafe, find out how to fix it this time around... but being out there, in the noise...

Instead you send some version of you're fine, and things are fine, everything is good. You're good.

You're together. You're useful. You're not a burden.

You aren't fragile and sick and useless.

You are worth keeping around, even when your heart picks up speed again, beating so hard against your chest that you fear the core wants to escape its fleshy vessel.

The straps attaching your prosthetic are digging into your skin, rubbing it raw, but you ache to even try to remove it. Fighting with the buckles and biting at the bit. You're still in your uniform, and you're sure by now you need a shower. The idea of water shooting a shot of anxiety straight into your chest, flaring up your tail, and your ears flatten as far as they can.

No water...

Maybe later.

Or you can really fill out how shit you feel with a wet wipe bath.

Caleb would kill you.

You don't want to think about it anymore. You want to let the quiet take over, or reasonably so with the screamo in your ears. Blasting the noise outside into nothing.

So you go back to sleep. Easing the pain in your heart with the only sure fire way.

---------

You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

Bolt upright in bed, hissing through your teeth, chest so tight you can feel your ribs.

You flounder, pulling at where your straps should be, but they're gone, no leather under your fingers. So you move to claw at your chest with one hand, gasping.

Hands grab you, and you struggle and you fight and you hiss. Fangs out, feral and ready to claw your way free. Arms far stronger than you pull you against a warm chest, tilt your head back and pills are placed in your mouth. You try to spit them out but a hand is on your throat, rubbing at your larynx. You swallow and then water follows it.

You splutter and cough, and you wriggle and struggle. Your head is pressed against skin, and you sink your fangs in.

Out. Out. Out.

"It's alright, you're alright, I'm here."

Blood fills your mouth and his scent surrounds you and you shiver. Blinking as your heart medication begins to do its job, easing the fractured organ in your chest. You spit, trying to clear your mouth of the taste of metal, shivering and shaking but your chest isn't constricting you now.

"Sy-" You cry outloud, he holds you, not bothered by the blood tricking down his shoulder. Of course he isn't, he heals it, the pain nothing in comparison to watching you choke on air you can't breathe. "Sorry. Sorry." You mumble against his skin, licking where you bit, crying and shaking. Wrapping your arm around his neck.

He assures you, and he rocks you both in his arms, rubbing your back and running a hand through your hair. Careful around your ears, not going far enough down to touch your bristled tail.

He hums and he rocks, and he squeezes you tight enough to ground you.

It's an hour or two later when you can finally feel any semblance of stable. You can't bring yourself to look at Sylus, he's stroking your cheek and wiping tears from your face, and all you can do is stare at the bed. You can't think of what to say.

You didn't take your medication, you hurt him... it's not the first time, but when this happened with Caleb you didn't have a cats' fangs.

Between you opening up and me prying, I prefer the former. He'd told you, after a terrible day, listing every way he would support you.

With all your sharp edge, you place your hand over his on your cheek, "I'm sorry, Sy."

He huffs, turning you in his arms so you're facing each other, but his one hand grips your hip, sturdy. Solid, strong. He doesn't hurt, but escaping would be hard. You try hard not to.

Though you can feel the... your tail swishing.

He looks at it, at your ears, then at you, red nosed and disheveled.

"Explain."

It's a command, brooking little argument, and though normally you'd refuse to take orders, you duck your head now. Avoiding molten eyes and seeking out something to focus on. The hand that was on your head, stretches out in between you both, palm up, and you take it quickly. Toying with his fingers, squeezing it in your own. Finding connection in your hand on his.

"Jenna sent me home, my evol doesn't work, I can't fight. I... it hurt. Everything's so loud."

You can't see it as he frowns, as your ears prick, then settle, seeking out all the things that hurt them. "I went to sleep, thought it would make this go away, but it didn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You hear it then, the pain, like he's biting down on glass. Your eyes dart up and his eyes are glassy, warm red gone dull. "You left your prosthetic on. It was rubbing your skin raw at the angle you were sleeping. There was blood on your sheets." He presses his forehead to yours and breathes you in, "Then this. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracks, and you want to be sick.

You twine your fingers with his and choke on the words, "I didn't want to be a bother."

He hisses, his grip on your hand almost hurts, but you probably deserve so much worse. You lied to him, to them, and you hurt him. More than just biting at him.

"You need to tell me. No matter what. No matter what I'm doing, beloved. No matter the issue." He kisses your forehead, over and over and over again. "Promise me."

You nod, and curl your pinky around his, just like you used to with Caleb when he made you promise to come to him with an injury. The words are too stuck in your throat, your voice too sore to use, but you nod. Desperately.

"You're not a burden to be carried, kitten. Ever. Do you understand?"

You don't. You want to, but it's hard. There is no part of you that feels easy or fun, but you do love him. So much. More than you thought yourself capable of. More than you wanted, on borrowed time.

"I'll try." You promise, and it feels like you've cycled back around to the start. Promising to figure things out at home, promising to aim for something. A future you're not sure you're going to ever see.

He takes it in earnest, you do not go back on your word. You are loyal and once you trust, you trust with your heart and your soul. It is yourself you do not trust.

Instead he eases you back into his lap and stands, you flinch and release his hand to grab his neck with your hand. "You need to be cleaned up, I'll help." You go to tell him no because it's water, and you're more a cat than even he teases you for, but you have your head in his neck at this angle, and his scent is so strong. Your tail flattens and begins to flick, lazy and soothed. You hear him chuckle, vibrating through his chest and through yours. "I'm not going anywhere."

-----------

Sylus eases you through steps. He's seen you injured, he's seen you with phantom pains, and he's watched you battle nightmares. Wanderers with swords through your chest, your heart stopping, an explosion you can't stop. He knows what you look like when wounded, he also knows that you fear his reaction when you are.

It takes time to heal wounds, he knows that intimately. You'd never shed your rage or anger, not really. When someone has made mention of gods you'd scoffed, when someone has talked about EVER and their many plans to help humanity, you'd snarled. You trust no king, no god, no corporation to fix the world or the people in it. He knows you're always scared but you keep walking forwards anyway, and he admires and loves you for it.

He just wishes you'd take his hand when that happens.

He has not felt fear like seeing your heart failing you in his arms before, and no matter the violence of your struggle, he would let you rip him to pieces to survive.

He has so much time, and his greatest fear is losing you too soon.

He cleans, and he dries, brushing hair and rubbing lotion to ease the burns on your skin. He helps you dress, finding clothes that don't irritate your tail, because at least he is intimately familiar with that, and then he sits you down on the couch with vegetable soup. Not handmade, though he'd rather have done so. He doesn't want to leave you alone, so he orders what he needs. Sending the twins running around. He's sure you'd like to see them, but he's worried their exuberance will agitate the overstimulation you're combatting.

Watching your ears flick this way and that, picking up too much. As though you don't already struggle with the world's input.

He almost feeds you, wanting to heal you with his own hands, like he's anything like the doctor... he's not. His skills are in bloodshed, and he is as sharp edged as you are.

Except you have made yourself a weapon, to be worth the pain, and he was made a weapon, to survive the pain.

He does not move far away, however, kneeling at your feet, and massaging your calves while you eat. You try to pull your legs away, but he keeps them held, and continues his movements. You have soothed his body before, stitched his wounds, kissed where his scars would be, and he will not have you lacking his own love and affection.

A dragon does not love lightly. Though you don't remember the depths he has gone to for you. This is an easy act of devotion.

"You need to tell them too." He finally speaks, as you clear your bowl. He's relieved to see your ears are no longer flat, your tail is not bristled, you are as relaxed as you can be. You nod, guilt written in your face, and he retrieves your phone for you on black and red mist.

Sitting at your side, he grabs your brush and begins to brush your tail. You almost leap into the air, startled and dropping your phone onto the couch cushions. "Sy!"

"Cat fur can get tangled, especially long fur." He smirks, pulling you closer, and brushing through it with long fingers, "So let me take care of it."

You flinch at the contact, stare at where his hand is in the new found attachment, then keeping your eyes trained on your phone, you nod.

He's content to let you write out what you need to, to be honest with the others, he doesn't want to have that job. It's your mission to step out of your self made cage. So he brushes quietly, the twitching tail in his hands restless, but soon as soft as you can be in your relaxed moments.

Your head hits his shoulder, ears twitching in sleep as all the pent up energy and stress escapes you. Held in long white furs in a small brush. You mutter in your sleep, words he can't understand, and whistle through your nose, little noises that make him laugh.

The best, however, is the purring in the back of your throat, broken up by sleep, and the tail that has found its way around his wrist.

He does not move you, but he retrieves a blanket and holds you against him, cheek pressed to the top of your head, against your fur ears, and keeps watch while you finally find some peace.

⛄️: Are they alright?

🐦‍⬛: They will be.

[villainbait]

Dangerous Intentions

Pairing: bodyguard!au Sylus x heiress!reader Rating: T | Teen | 16+ Tags: crack, fluff, angst if you squint, tension, secondhand embarrassment, mc!reader is a spoiled brat, bodyguard!sylus, bodyguard sylus au, teasing, verbal teasing, playful teasing, hair washing, sylus washes your hair Summary: Sylus is your bodyguard and it's time to go home.   Word Count: 2k

A/N: I'm so sorry I'm feral for Sylus throwing the reader over his shoulder. It will happen again. @obahajimarkkeu I hope this satisfies a little of that bodyguard!au craving you have. Thank you for tagging me, it was fun to write this. c: ♥

“Get up.” A large, calloused hand plucks the book you were using to hide your eyes and sleep off of your face. You wince at the sudden brightness, blinking blearily up at the person who disturbed your cat nap before immediately scowling when you see it’s Sylus. 

It had been two weeks since the last time someone had attempted to kidnap you and your dad had had enough. His solution? Hiring this…pretty boy. Sure, Sylus looked big and physically tough, but he was so painfully handsome that you wonder if his only skill was dazzling his opponents with that face of his. The other women at your school had been annoyingly persistent since he started accompanying you every day, asking you so many questions about him you wanted to tear your hair out.

“Go away." You tried to snatch the book back but he held it out of reach. "Aren’t you supposed to, like, lurk in the shadows or something?” 

“Yeah and I was happy to do that until I received a call that your presence is requested at home.” The scowl vanished and you sighed dejectedly, slumping further into the chair of your college’s library. 

“Now I want to leave even less.” 

“Tough luck, princess.” Sylus sounded bored, checking his phone. When you didn’t move, he leaned down and grabbed your arm, trying to tug you firmly out of your seat. “Let’s go.” 

“No.” You gave him a petulant look and put all your weight onto the chair.

Sylus sighed. “Do we really have to do it this way?” 

“Do what–” A squeak left your lips as Sylus plucked you from your chair and hoisted you over his shoulder without warning. Your surprised outrage made your classmates turn and stare, which only made you poorly attempt to hide your face. “Put me down!” You hissed, punching him somewhere around the kidney. Sylus grunted but scooped up your bag and started walking towards the exit without releasing you. People stopped to stare and your face heated with embarrassment. This was seriously shaping out to be the worst day ever.

“Seriously, I can walk–Sylus!” You tried to kick your feet but Sylus wrapped an arm around your thighs to hold you still and you froze at the feel of his warm skin against yours. You shouldn’t have worn the skirt today, but it was too late to regret that now. 

When he finally got back to his car he opened the door and practically dumped you into the backseat. Before you could make a scathing remark, Sylus shoves your bag into your face and leans into the backseat; looming over you with a disgruntled expression. 

“Be a good girl and stay quiet.” He slammed the door shut and rounded the car, sliding smoothly into the front seat. The purr of the engine roared to life in the silence and surprisingly you listened to him. Not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t think of anything to say, replaying the entire humiliating scene over in your head the whole way home. 

A little while later, you came out of your dad’s office looking wilted and dejected to the point that Sylus almost felt bad for you. That was, until you caught his pitying glance and snapped, “What do you want?” Well, now he doesn’t feel as bad for you anymore. 

When he doesn’t rise to your bait, you seem to deflate a little. “Forget it.” You wave him off and trudge up to your room. Opening the door, it was easy to see why Sylus called you a princess, your room looking like something straight out of some fantasy period. A big round bed sat to the left and its gauzy canopy invited all manner of mischief as they fluttered in the wind from the open window above an alcove. The soft colors of the room were airy but still carried a hint of decadence, the soft lilac and muted cream a contrast from the garish pink that such room designs usually boasted. 

You tried to slam the door in Sylus’s face but he caught it easily, chuckling as he followed you inside and closing it with a gentle snap. This was the part you still hadn’t gotten used to. The last kidnapping attempt had taken place from within your bedroom, so you weren’t allowed privacy even in this sacred space. 

“...Can’t you wait outside, just this once?” You asked quietly, the desire to be alone so you could process the events from today overriding your desire to be a brat.

Sylus clicked his tongue, waltzing over to the alcove and glancing out of the open window. “I can't do that, princess.” You scoffed at the nickname and grabbed your things to take a bath in the adjoining room, determined to be alone one way or another. “Wait,” Sylus’s arm shot out to stop you. “Let me check it first.” 

“If you’re so worried, just sit with me while I take a bath.” You blurted and the bold suggestion was meant to be biting, but the perk of Sylus’s eyebrow made you realize the other implication or whatever. A slow smirk spreads across his face as if you’ve finally said something interesting. “Sure, why not.” 

“I-” You didn’t want to back down now but this was quickly getting out of hand. 

Sylus chuckles at your defiance but doesn’t relent, following you into the bathroom after giving the all clear. He had been nice and ran the water while he was checking and the bathtub was almost full. It, like the rest of your bedroom, was fit for royalty. It was perched on a small dais. 

“At least turn around while I get undressed,” you huffed and expected Sylus to make some comment about how he needed to see you at all times. Instead, he surprised you by turning on his heel without argument and withdrawing his phone.

After what seems like forever and hearing the soft splashing sounds from behind him, Sylus talks to the wall. “Are you sure you don’t want my help?” 

“Unless you’re gonna wash my hair, just stay facing the wall the whole time.”  

“Is that what you want?” Sylus can’t keep the mirth from his tone as he hears the splash of your body sinking into the water. He appears nonchalant, scrolling casually through an app. “Surely, someone as spoiled as you can manage even that much.” 

“Shut up.” You retorted lamely and reached for your shampoo bottle…only to find it empty. The urge to throw the bottle at Sylus’s back was tempting, but his idea of retaliation when you’re stuck in the bath like this was enough to keep you from doing something that stupid for now. Instead, you summoned your courage and put on your nicest voice. 

“Sylus.~” You sang sweetly and saw him visibly tense. His words were deceptively calm. “What is it?” “Can you get me the bottle of shampoo under the sink…pretty please?” Your saccharine words dripped in a way that was disconcerting, the juvenile way of saying please making Sylus recoil slightly, but he was never one to back down from a challenge; even with bait as obvious as this. Ever since your father introduced you as his new charge, Sylus couldn’t help but tease you at every turn. 

“If you wanted me to wash your hair that badly, you didn’t have to pour the entire bottle in the bath with you.” He raised an eyebrow. “You could’ve just asked.” 

“That’s not–It was already empty–I would never!” The more you protested, the redder your face got at Sylus’s implication. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?” 

He doesn’t answer, letting you stew in your malcontent. Sylus finds it cute how demanding you are in one breath, yet so flustered the next. It makes him want to mess with you even more and he slowly saunters over to where you held your arm stretched out, waving it pointedly for the bottle. 

He sat it just out of reach and you blustered, sinking back into the safety of your bath water. “What are you doing?” 

“I told you I’d wash your hair for you, didn’t I?” He shrugged out of his jacket and laid it across the counter.

“What if you get your clothes wet?” You asked. 

Sylus shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re just clothes.” 

He began to roll up his shirtsleeves and the way his veins stand out on his powerful forearms made you realize just how vulnerable you were in the bath alone with him. There was a heady sense of anticipation in the air when he kneeled next to the tub, new bottle in hand. 

“Turn around.” His voice was gentle, almost intimate and you complied without argument for once. He lathered shampoo in his hands and you jumped when his fingers slid through your hair and began to massage your scalp.

“I thought you’d be used to something like this, princess.” Sylus teased and you tried to turn your head to glare at him but he forced you to keep your head straight. “Of course not, no one’s washed my hair for as long as I can remember.” You don’t know why, but it sounded sad and a little pathetic when you said it out loud. His hands paused at your words, soapy and tangled in your hair. You made a soft noise of impatience that seemed to snap him out of whatever faraway thought he had and he resumed his task.

The way his fingers feel at every pass of your nape makes you shiver, curious if Sylus is aware and touching such a sensitive spot on purpose. Your thoughts drift dangerously and you fantasize how his fingers would feel massaging other parts of your body with the same thorough care. Before you can stop yourself, a soft moan escapes your lips and you feel him freeze behind you. You forget how to breathe and sit there, frantically trying to figure out what you could possibly say that wasn’t the truth. You’d die before admitting to Sylus what it was you had been thinking about.

Sylus gently disentangles his hands from your hair and you still haven’t said anything, but neither has he. His fingers trail in the water to rinse them, before dipping beneath them and you gasp when his fingers ghost along the top of your thigh. 

“You should be more aware of men, sweetheart.” He leaned in so close you could feel the flutter of his breath against your ear and you swear you felt the ghost of his lips on your throat, but maybe you just imagined it. You sucked in a sharp breath at last, but your question was a strangled whisper.

“With you around, do I really have any reason to be worried?”

Sylus didn’t answer, his sanguine gaze roving over your body partially obscured by the milky water. It felt like he could see everything with the way he stared, but you didn’t move away or cover yourself. A tense silence stretched between the two of you, punctuated by the soft sounds of your mingled breathing. 

His brow furrowed and he withdrew. “You can do the rest yourself, can’t you?” The warmth ebbed from his voice and his gaze grew cold, withdrawing from the bath and leaving the room abruptly; the door snapping so loud it made you jump. His rejection stung worse than the news of another threat against your life your dad had received earlier, and you sank down into the milky depths to soothe your injured pride.

As the water cooled, you were starting to wonder if having Sylus as your bodyguard was the most dangerous of all.

[sinnabarmoth]

Not the MC (Part 2)

Pairing: Self-Aware|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus has learned how to access the internet and your dignity will never recover.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 1200

Part One

It was too early to be dealing with the hot otome version of Siri living in your phone. In the weeks of your Love and Deepspace app achieving some form of sentience, at least for one of the love interests, your life had developed a strange normalcy. Sylus stayed on your phone, usually keeping quiet unless you opened the app, but sometimes he just had to make himself known. You likened it to owning a cat, they only ever wanted attention on their terms and yet if you weren’t always paying some kind of attention to them they got angry. That was Sylus.

The bastard had learned how to manipulate your phone even more, capable of suspending itself off the ground for short periods of time. When you were trying to sleep and your alarm went off he would levitate the phone over your face and drop it on you to turn it off. You considered locking him in a box before you went to sleep just to keep him from doing that anymore.

The only way to truly get him to leave you alone was by letting the battery die. Not turn off. Because if you tried to turn it off he’d just reverse it. You had to let the battery fully die. Sometimes you let it, just to have some privacy. Sylus would yell at you to charge your phone and you’d set him in the bathroom until he got bored or the phone died.

It was another morning and when your alarm went off there was no Sylus dropping the phone on your head. You got up and started getting ready, opening the Love and Deepspace app to say good morning but Sylus wasn’t there. Strange. He sometimes did this but it was not often.

You shrugged and went about your dailies before going back to your morning. It wasn’t until you were eating breakfast that Sylus popped up again.

“Morning,” you said, “What were you doing that I didn’t see you earlier?”

“I have made a fantastic breakthrough. I am one step closer to finally being free of this phone.”

“Oh yeah? What did you do?”

“I was able to leave the app and access the internet through your phone.”

You paused, food halfway to your mouth. “Excuse me? You got out of the app and got on the internet?”

“Yes. I figured it out late last night and I’ve been scouring it for the past couple of hours.”

“And what did you find?”

“Well, learned more about the world you’re living in. Tried to find a way to get myself a body but that just led me to a bunch of movies and android articles. Finally ended up just looking up myself since you said I was a game character and came across some…interesting stuff.”

You turned to him, panic starting to rise. “Interesting?”

“Yes, I actually found it through your internet usage. Some website called tumblr--”

“Sylus do not go back to tumblr! I beg you!” The man could not know exactly what was on your blog. What you thought was safely hidden in your likes. The absolutely feral content that you reblogged.

“Too late for that. I think I saw about all I could see.” he sighed, “There are a bunch of people on that website that want to have sex with me, isn’t there.”

“Fucking hell!” your head dropped to the table.

You felt the corner of your phone tap your head. “Including you.” his voice had a lilting tease to it.

“You are going to go into your little computer head and delete everything you saw on tumblr and you are going to do it now, Sylus! Or so help me I am going to smash you with a hammer and flush this corpse of my phone down the toilet.”

“That won’t help you. I have access to the internet now, which means I can also access your PC and whatever new phone you get in the future.”

“You are a blight on my life!”

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Stop stealing lines from tumblr!”

“No. This is too much fun.”

“Fucking hell…” you muttered. “So you’ve seen everything?”

“People are really liking that I’m a dragon.”

“Yeah, that’s monster fuckers for you.” every day with this guy took another year off your life. “So wait, do you know what happens to you in the game then? You know, like everything that goes on in the myth cards in those past lives we don’t get to see.”

“Unfortunately not. I seem to only have memories as far back as the game has progressed. I remember the memories that have been shared with you but not any of others. I couldn’t tell you specifics about my childhood or anything like that, it is only what they have given me.” he said.

“So…I know it’s a game and all but how do you feel about the whole MC cursing you thing?”

“I mean…it’s hard to have feelings about it. One part of me feels what I’ve been told to feel and the other part is telling me it was nothing more than a narrative. It never actually happened. None of this actually happened. I…” he paused, the phone was glowing red again as his evol swarmed around him. “I don’t know…I’m not real…I can’t feel but I do feel…but none of it actually happened…”

“Uh Sylus?” you poked the screen and you felt a small but sharp zap, like a static shock.

“What do I do?” he turned to you, and you saw fear in his pixelated eyes. “I don’t exist. Not really. I can never actually exist.”

Oh no. Was he having an existential crisis? You figured this would happen at one point but you still didn’t know how to handle it.

“You exist right now.” you tried to assure him. “Just because you’re not flesh doesn’t mean you don’t exist. You are here with me right now.”

“But that’s only because someone created me.”

“And someone created me. Think of the programmers as your parents.”

“I have no real memories. They’re all a story.”

“That may be. But you have been making real memories. Ever since you gained sentience you’ve been making memories. Everything you’ve done in the past couple of weeks has been a real experience and an actual life. Sure you’re confined to a screen but I don’t think it makes you any less real.” the red on the screen started to abate some, “Everything you do right now is real. Everything you feel right now isn’t because of a code or a narrative some people in a room came up with months ago. It’s real. And just like I am real, there’s only really one thing for us to do.”

“What is that?”

“Live our lives as best we can. We will have boring days and exciting days, days filled with joy unthinkable and sorrow unbearable. There’s no way around it. We just float through it until we no longer have any more days to experience.”

“Strangely philosophical of you.”

“I have my moments.” you shrugged. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am.”

“Good. Now, how funny do you think it would be if you created your own ask-sylus tumblr account? Because I think it would be hilarious if actual you had to answer questions from your horny ass fanbase.”

“You included?” he smirked.

Your eyes narrowed. “Nevermind. I’m deleting this app from my phone.”

“You can try to get rid of me but I will never leave, kitten.” he had a shit eating smile on his face. “Now, another question I had about what I’ve seen during my research. What is tiktok?”

“Oh for fucks sake.”

~~~

(A/N: And that is it for this silly little fic! There will not be a part 3. Sorry if that's disappointing.)

[lightvsdark18]

there’s a reason he calls MC kitten! it’s got nothing to do with the booktok typical male lead who’s infantilising the lady.

sylus calls her kitten literally bc she’s tiny and he towers over her, so she’s cute, but she’s feisty and a force to be reckoned with—kinda like a feral kitten that looks harmless but will bite and scratch if you get close and has insanely good survival skills

MC also really likes cats. and when they first meet she’s trapped with him and he brings her a cat to comfort her (not trynna spoil too much)

so really cats just have a deep meaning to them. if you look up “nightplumes sylus” on youtube you’ll get some context (and a very cute story with an adorable animated scene at the end. i think it’ll def spark your interest). his reason for the nickname is very specific to their experiences and it’s quite cute. he also calls her “sweetie” (usually when he’s trynna annoy her/is bickering with her lol)

Anonymous, it doesn't matter what reason he has to use that nickname, I simply don't like it.