#mephisto mix

[a-h-87769877]

Videotape begins @ min 32:46

[your-zipper-is-down]

BILLYTELLA IDOL AU

Commission by my bestie @lovethedanielhd

Idol Tella and bodyguard Billy. I have. SO MANY IDEAS, let's see if I can write them down into a proper plot lmao

In my head, he is singing Shitsurakuen by Queen Bee, because I'm a Queen Bee fan first and an Undead Unluck fan second

[trash-opposum]

Me while writing/drawing MephiMon: I don’t really like any canon x canon ships when it comes to Obey Me, they just don’t connect with me

[bingus35]

Me last week: gonna take a break from one piece, shits been too depressing lately, gonna catch up on some other media like hmm arknights

Me after reading arknights chapter 8: yeah gonna take a break from media in general

[darklysoft]

In my opinion shipping shirou and mephisto is way better and sexier after the reveal that shirou knew him since he was a kid and rightfully hated him.

I think, especially during canon, mephisto is SO old that he has probably done every sex act ever with every kind of person and I doubt there's a lot in that realm that really excites him anymore. BUT he obviously does still fuck and desire people, and I consider shirou to be one of the few (unfortunate lol) people in more modern times to peak his interest in a really nasty way.

Mephisto definitely had other plans for shirou when he took that interest of course, but I'm taking his sexual intent as a given too (and yes, the desire started when he defied him and made a deal with him as an 11 year old kid)...He's a sadist! He definitely took great pleasure in trapping shirou in service to the order and taking care of satan's kids and in general controlling his entire life until he died!!!

They should fuck about it.

[plutotheplum]

Resonance

sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!

summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3

also posted on ao3!

You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 

A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 

The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  

Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 

A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.

The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.

“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”

He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”

He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 

“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”

Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.

“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.

He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.

A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 

He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.

“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.

Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”

“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”

He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.

“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 

His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”

“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”

You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.

“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.

Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 

“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”

Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.

“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 

His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.

He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 

“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 

He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 

“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”

“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 

“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 

“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.

You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.

He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.

“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.

He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.

You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.

He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.

“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.

“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”

He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.

“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”

You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.

There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.

“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.

You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 

“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”

A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.

Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.

“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.

You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.

The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.

“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 

Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.

“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.

He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.

“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”

He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 

Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.

You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 

“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.

“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.

He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”

He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 

“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.

He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.

Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 

“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”

That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 

A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.

“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 

His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”

His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.

“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 

“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 

“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.

The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.

“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”

The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 

A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.

“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”

“I wasn’t imagining-“

“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.

His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.

You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.

“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 

It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 

You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.

“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 

“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”

You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.

“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”

You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 

“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.

He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.

“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”

His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.

“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 

“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.

“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.

It’s going to be a long night.

[leighsartworks216]

Blood Washes Out

Sylus x gn!Reader

Had this idea and had to spend like a week writing it

Warnings: hurt/comfort, blood, injury, murder, swearing, vomiting, panic, pet names, sharing clothes, cuddling, crying, guilt, broken bones, guns

Word Count: 2,801

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The phone rings by your ear, waiting to be answered. The copper stench of blood latches itself to your senses. You can taste it on your tongue, against your teeth, at the back of your throat.

The call is picked up and a whimper of relief rips from your mouth against your will. “Sylus!”

“What’s wrong?” he demands. His voice is stern. You’re glad for its strength right now. “Are you alright?”

What a shit question for him to ask.

“I need you to pick me up.” You turn your head to the side to spit out the blood pooling in your mouth. You wish it would just fucking stop.

“Send me your location, but don’t hang up.”

You feel blood stick to your ear as you pull the phone away. The touch screen is covered in red fingerprints. You’re shocked it still reads your input as you go to your messages and send him your location. You feel a burn at the back of your throat as you put the phone back to your ear, disgust wrapping its hands around your esophagus and churning your stomach.

He says your name. It’s so rare to hear him say it nowadays. That’s how you know he’s really worried. “I’ll be there in five minutes. I’m sending Mephisto ahead of me. Stay on the phone.”

You nod even though he can’t see, squeezing your eyes shut and curling into yourself as you wait on the curbside. If there’s anybody else around, anybody else who witnessed what happened���

Panic floods your veins like ice.

What if someone did see what happened? Or- Or maybe someone who didn’t and just stumbles around the corner to find-

You clamp a hand over your mouth. Bloody fingers aggravate your nose. More blood pours over them, warm and wet, sliding over a layer that’s already congealed. The metallic twang stings your eyes.

You can’t tell whose blood is whose anymore.

“I’m coming, sweetie. Just a few more minutes.”

You gasp out, “I’m gonna be sick.”

You don’t get a chance to hear his response before you drop your phone to the sidewalk. Your body moves on its own in a mad dash to turn and hurl into the gutter. It burns. It burns so fucking bad. And the taste-

Your body convulses and shakes, acting against you until your stomach is empty and you’re coughing around dry heaves.

A motor pulls up nearby. Heavy boots scuff the pavement as they rush to you. A gloved hand pulls your hair back, collecting it at the base of your head. An arm wraps around your chest, keeping you upright. A caw sounds from above you.

“I’ve got you. Don’t fight it. I’ve got you.”

Sylus surveys the scene around you. A body lays several feet away on its back. A dark red trail worms its way through cracks in the sidewalk and follows the uneven ground to a drain intended for catching floodwater. A gun hangs limply in its hand. Yours is discarded nearby.

He ducks his head to look at your face. Your eyes are clamped shut, lips trembling as you try to catch your breath. Tears glide down the curve of your cheeks.

Your nose is broken. Blood oozes from it slowly, dripping into your mouth and down your chin. It mixes with your bile and saliva as you weakly spit it out. More blood covers your clothes and your hands. It’s hard to distinguish what’s all yours, or if your broken nose is your only injury.

He grabs a handkerchief from his pocket. It cost more than your apartment and he couldn’t give a damn as he uses it to gently wipe at your mouth. “Just breathe, sweetheart. Can you stand?”

You take in a deep, uneven breath, and nod. He lets go of your hair and grabs your phone, sliding it into his pocket without worrying about the blood. He tucks the handkerchief right next to it. His arms are strong and grounding as he helps you to your feet, putting himself between you and the body as he leads you to his bike. If he’d known what state you were in, he would’ve brought the car. As it was, he was more concerned with getting to you as fast as possible.

He doesn’t force you to put the helmet on this time. As much as he’d normally insist, he didn’t want to trap you in a helmet if you were still nauseous. He slips it over his own head as he gets on first and gives you his arm for support as you climb on behind him. Your arms wrap around him tightly, bloody fingers clinging to his shirt under his leather jacket. Your body rests heavily against his back.

“My gun…” you say quietly, halfheartedly, like your concern for it is only a distant afterthought.

Sylus squeezes your hands reassuringly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get it back for you later.”

You nod against him. The engine purrs beneath you as he turns his bike around and peels off back home.

-

The ride is a blur of passing lights and buildings, a collage of Linkon City and the N109 Zone meshing together until you relent to just keep your eyes shut. You don’t open them again until he slows to a stop in front of his mansion.

The twins are rushing out the door to greet you. “Boss! Woah, what happened to you?” Luke winces as he catches sight of you. Kieran smacks him upside the head and rushes to help you off the bike.

Sylus gets off after, pulling his helmet off and resting it on the seat. He pulls out the phone and handkerchief, and passes it over to Luke. “Get this cleaned up.”

“Sure thing, Boss!”

He takes you gently away from Kieran, wrapping an arm behind your knees and back and lifting you into his arms. “Follow Mephisto. Deal with it.”

Kieran nods. “On it, Boss.” Mephisto’s metal wings slice through the air as Sylus leads you past the twins and inside.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble. You turn your head from his shoulder, trying not to get blood on his shirt. Your hands sit limply in your lap.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie,” he assures. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The mansion is warm and familiar, dark and comforting in a way the night outside isn’t. He carries you all the way to his room and the ensuite bathroom where he sits you on the countertop. He removes his gloves, grabs a white washcloth, wets it under the faucet, and gently works on cleaning the blood from your face. The pristine white cloth stains pink, and eventually red.

You stare at his shirt. Despite it being black, you can see the remnants of blood you left on him.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He holds your chin delicately in one hand, tilting your head up to look at him. “Talk to me.”

Fresh tears burn at your eyes. You want to forget tonight ever happened. Want to find someone with a time-traveling Evol just so you can go back and do everything different.

It’s a fruitless wish. Everything already happened. It was already burned into your mind. There would be no do-overs.

Your voice cracks as you speak. He frowns at the sorrowful sound. “I was going to the convenience store to get some snacks. I-I wanted some chocolate, and I didn’t have any, so… B-But I guess one of my neighbors followed me. A lot of them are Hunters, too. Said they heard me talking to you.”

“They recognized my name from the Association.” It wasn’t a question. You nod. He folds the cloth over and brushes away some splatter from your face, gently wiping away some stray tears in the process. “Did they threaten you?”

You don’t need to answer. He already knows. That gun in their hand wasn’t just for show.

“They…” You swallow uncomfortably. Your mouth feels tacky. “They said they were gonna turn me in, but wh-when they approached, I freaked out. I just started fighting back, I-I didn’t know what else to do. They punched me and I fell to the ground. Th-Their gun was aimed at me, I couldn’t think, a-and I…”

The weight of the weapon in your hands never felt heavier than in that moment. Tears fell freely now. Your lungs shudder, gasping for air you can’t seem to get enough of. Your face crumples into a horrible grimace as you sob. Sylus cradles the back of your head and pulls you into his chest. He drops the cloth in the sink to wrap his arm around you. You grab onto his shirt. The blood on your hands is dried and crackly, seeping deep into your pores and staining your flesh.

“I tried saving them,” you whimper. “I tried, but there was just so, so much blood, I- I couldn’t do anything.”

He hushes you softly. “You were threatened and you protected yourself.”

“What if the Association finds out? What’re they gonna do when they find out someone’s missing? Fuck, Sy, what- What’s gonna happen?”

“Nothing’s going to happen. They’ll put up missing posters around the block, wondering where they went off to. It’ll remain an unsolved mystery, a story to tell the grandkids.”

It’s not reassuring. He sighs.

“What do you want to happen, sweetheart? You tell your boss what happened: you don’t get tried for murder, but you have to come clean about sneaking into the N109 Zone and being besties with the big bad leader of Onychinus. Or you don’t say anything, and nothing happens.” He pulls away slightly to look down at your face. You stare at the glass door of the shower, eyes glazed over and distant. “Which option sounds better to you, hm?”

You wrack your brain for a third option. Something that doesn’t take away the job you love and permanently ruin your life, while giving the Hunter you killed some grace in death. But there is none. Not really.

So you sigh. Long and drawn out. Will this guilt ever get any easier to carry?

You pull away from Sylus and he lets you. You cringe at his shirt. “I got blood on you.”

He chuckles. “Blood washes out, kitten.”

“Not very easily.”

“No,” he agrees. “But I have my ways.”

This is no longer a simple conversation about laundry.

Sylus picks the cloth back up and wets it again. The excess water that isn’t squeezed out drips into your lap. He wipes the fresh blood coming from your nose. “We need to set this. Do you want something to bite down on?”

-

Your nose still stings as you stand under the shower spray. The heady scent of his shampoo saturates the air, swirling in tandem with the steam. There’s no more blood in your hair, on your ear from the phone, or on your face. And there isn’t any on your hands, either. But as you look down at them, water collecting in your palms and slipping between your fingers, you could feel the hot blood that had been there.

A knock on the door startles you from your revelry. It opens before you can say anything, and you can see the blurry silhouette of Sylus as he sets something on the counter.

“Here’s some fresh clothes. I’ll be out here when you’re done.” His face doesn’t ever glance at the shower door, even when you call out his name to stop him while he’s leaving. He just stands there, head ducked slightly and ear turned your way, listening.

“Thank you.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s just clothes, sweetheart.”

You sigh bitterly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

The door closes with a faint click as he leaves.

You put some soap in your hands and scrub until the skin is raw. Until you can’t trick yourself into thinking there’s still blood on them. Until the water begins to run cold. Only then do you feel clean enough to turn off the water and step out of the shower.

The clothes are large, practically drowning you in excess fabric. The familiar athletic shorts only stay on because of the elastic waistband and a hidden drawstring that ties on the inside of the shorts. The sweater’s sleeves go past your hands. You can’t imagine wearing anything else right now.

Just as he promised, he’s sitting on his bed when you open the door. The deconstructed parts of your gun lay spread out on the blanket, neatly sorted out. He diligently cleans every piece, ensuring he gets every speck of blood while giving it basic maintenance.

“Sorry about the clothes, sweetie. I’ll have some tailored for you.”

You pad across the floor and carefully climb up onto the bed, doing your best not to disturb the array. He doesn’t stop you when you snuggle up to his side. Rather, he allows you to wrap your arms around his, adjusting how he works for your sake. You shake your head and rest it on his shoulder.

“This is fine,” you assure him. The silence goes on for a beat or two too long before you add, “I might just steal this sweater from you.”

He chuckles. “Go ahead, sweetie. I can get more.” He sets down a cleaned part and picks up another one he hasn’t tended to yet. “Tell me what materials you like and I’ll have a whole closet of them you can steal, if you’d like.”

You smile slightly. He only notices when he glances down at you. He sets the piece down and begins to quickly assemble it all back together. You inhibit his movements somewhat, so it takes a few seconds longer than he’s used to, but he doesn’t complain. Your gun looks brand new, just as pretty and perfect as it was when you first got it at the Academy.

He flips it to offer the handle to you, a silent question. It’s all too reminiscent of your first meeting with him. Even then, even after you’d pulled the trigger, frightened for your life, you’d tried to save him. If it hadn’t been for his Evol…

Well. Lightning never strikes the same place twice.

You hide your face in his shirt, the casual grey one he usually lounges around in. The clinking of the gun disappears with the sound of a drawer opening and closing. His hand brushes your hair.

“You should get some sleep, sweetie. It’s late for you.”

“I’m not tired.” Your body says otherwise. You’re practically melting into him, into the bed. If you stay there for just a few minutes longer, you’ll be fast asleep.

“Now why don’t I believe that,” he teases.

You sigh and force yourself off of him, beginning to slip off the bed. “Let’s watch something.”

He sighs, too, but at your unrelenting stubbornness. It’s almost reassuring. At least you weren’t in a heap under the blankets, sobbing. He follows you into the living room, to the couch directly across from a large TV. You grab a blanket and wrap it around yourself until you are securely cocooned and tucked against an armrest. He sits next to you, drawing you into his side. His Evol carries the remote to his hand.

You command him along through menus and catalogues until you reach one of your favorite comfort films. The lights automatically dim as it starts playing.

You’re not even three minutes into the movie before your eyes are drooping closed. He knew it would happen, knew the exhaustion would catch up with you eventually. Still, it was quite cute, watching you fight to keep your eyes open and your head off his chest. Slowly, slowly giving in. Resting your head on his chest. Listening to his unusual heartbeat. Losing the battle against consciousness.

Still, he lets it play through to the end. It’s not a bad movie, he decides. You enjoy it, so it must have some merit. And you can always tell a lot about someone based on their favorite things.

Careful not to wake you up, Sylus lifts you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest. He carries you back to bed, not bothering to unwrap you from your cocoon at all. Despite being wide awake, he lays down beside you, continuing to hold you close to him. If you have a nightmare, he wants to be there. If you wake up in a dazed panic, he wants to be there.

As accustomed as he’s become with taking lives, he’s unfamiliar with the crisis you’re facing and how to comfort someone through a crisis of any kind. He wants to help. As best as he can, he wants you to be okay. He needs you to be okay.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow

[strwberri-milk]

Could you please do it for Sylus too? Please https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk/753546840195186688/hi-good-morning-afternoon-evening-ive?source=share

ive got a very loose idea of who he is right now so it might not be the most accurate - might be a little too cold, abrasive? but hopefully i adjust as we slowly learn more about him uwu

He keeps track of everything relevant to you. He doesn't necessarily check obsessively, but if something's happening in Linkon he expects to be alerted fairly quickly. Ever since the two of you became official you began to tolerate Mephisto's presence a lot better than before. Sylus won't tell you but he's glad you do, able to let his mind rest in ease that there's a quick way to get at you.

When Mephisto returns to his home worse for wear Sylus immediately knows something's wrong. He retrieves the recording device from the bird, quickly scouring the footage for the last time the crow saw you. He's met with your face, blood that he hopes isn't yours as you try to tell Mephisto to go. At this point the little robotic bird is too compromised for the recording software to do an effective job but that's all he needs to see.

He heads into the city, seeing all of the recovery efforts. He was under the impression that the crisis was ongoing, neglecting to actually check the date that the recording software recorded of the video he was watching. He pulls out his phone as he makes his way around the city, trying to get in touch with you.

When hours start to go by with not even a peep from you he feels equal parts fury and desperation mix inside of him. On the outside he just looks incredibly pissed, nobody able to figure out why this man looks so angry but it's just the way he looks when he's worried about you.

He doesn't want to contact anybody else in your life, respecting your wish to keep him as separate from your coworkers as much as possible. That doesn't stop him from hacking into phones and computers, trying to figure out if any of them have eyes or ears on you. He finally manages to find a promising text thread sent by one of the officers you work with, finally making it to your hospital.

Surprisingly, he's patient with the staff at the front, waiting for them to go through procedure before finally coming into your hospital room. You look perfectly fine, him breathing a sigh of relief that you don't see.

"You're alright," he says at the sight of you, standing next to your bed.

"Sylus? I didn't call you, did I? I mean - my phone's been out for days at this point."

His brows furrow at the mention. Days? He didn't realise he'd drop the ball that badly.

"You should have known I would have found you no matter what. Even without tracking your phone."

"Oh - Mephisto! How is he?" you ask quickly, sitting up in the bed.

Sylus immediately reaches out to grab your hand, scowling at you in a way that's not exactly unkind but you still don't like it. You shy away from his touch just the slightest bit, feeling bad for worrying him so much. He sees the way you flinch, taking your hand in his a little more forcibly as his other hand comes to support your back.

"He'll be fine. Just some repairs - nothing worse than what he might sustain at the N109 zone. Focus on yourself."

"I don't need to. The doctors said I'm fine, really. I got there after the worst of it."

He looks at you skeptically, shaking his head.

"I don't care what they said. Rest until you're well enough for me to check you out. Then I'm taking you home. With me. You're going to get yourself into more danger if I'm not watching you."

You sigh to yourself, knowing there was no way of you arguing your way out of this. Despite his cold demeanour you know he's just looking for a reason to spoil you and you might just have to milk it a bit.

[l3viat8an]

ROO HEAR ME OUT

Mephisto choking MC while they’re going at it in his office because he heard someone coming down the hall and doesn’t want to get caught -👁️ 

Nsfw!

I mean- it is kinda hard to be quiet when you’ve got a demon fucking you like an animal- jsksjksjs

And it’s especially hard to keep quiet when you’re laid across Mephisto’s desk, leg spreed for him and moaning his name as your fingernails dig into the edge of the desk trying desperately to ground yourself, while It’s creaking and shaking underneath you as he thrusts into you, harder this time causing another, louder, “ahh- fuck~” to fall from your lips.

Loud…Mephisto finally realizes you’re being too loud, way too loud actually. Any other time he would love to hear you moaning for him and even screaming his name-

But right now you’re trying not to get caught and if he ever wants to do this again… later down the line Mephisto needs to figure out a way to keep you quiet, and fast.

Panic is mixing with his pleasure now, the idea of fucking in his office had sounded wonderful just ten minutes ago- the halls had been empty and everyone was in the dinning hall or library but after the bell sounded and the hallways start filling up with students again…. now that he can hear the muffled sound of foot steps in the hall, all those people passing the newspaper club room and heading to their next class just on the other side of the door.

Now he realized how poorly this was planned. Just another reason never to listen to a horny human, when will he learn? You’re nothing but trouble!! Trouble with the best pussy he’s ever had the pleasure to fuck- but still trouble!

Yet, here he is still balls deep in your pussy, not slowing down or even letting you catch your breath. Tentatively…as if testing the waters, one of his gloved hands moves from your hip to wrap around your throat, slightly squeezing as a warning. His other hand stayed on your hip keeping you in place, keeping you still.

“Quite. Human. We absolutely can’t let anyone find us here.” he hisses out. He can feel your breathing stutter as you clenched around his cock even tighter then before, you even have the nerve to grin up at him, “Then do it harder, keep me quiet.” you gasp out, tilting your head back a bit so he can keep his hand there until you’re done…

[tsukii0002]

Mephisto: This exchange program is meaningless.

Mc: Un-huh.

Mephisto: I respect Lord Diavolo, but mixing demons, humans and angels is not normal.

Mc: Are you sure about that? We can stop our tea Fridays if yoy want.

Mephisto: *blushing* Well, maybe humans and demons can coexist, they are alike in many ways... But angels?

Mc: What are the problems with angels?

Mephisto: They are holy creatures! The natural enemies of demons!

Mc: I see.

Mephisto: Their existence is contrary to ours.

Mc: Curious.

Mephisto: The only thing they can bring to us the demons, is pain and misery.

Mc: ...

Mc: Then... What are you doing with Luke?

Mephisto: *holding Luke's hand while he is eating a cookie*... Science...

Mc: According to your logic, you have to let him go now.

Mephisto: Well, yes but-

Mc: *laughing* Release the angel Mephisto!!!

Mephisto: No! He's my brother now! *hugging Luke*

Luke: *confused angel noises* ???

.

.

[sylusdoll]

summary: sylus finds out you’ve fallen ill, so he visits you

it was the end of the week, and you’ve been suffering with a fever since the start of this week, it was quiet severe you could barley pick up your phone and all you did was sleep.

you used your bit of energy you had to let your boss know you wont be coming in, and thats all you did this week, never touched the phone unless it was necessary.

mephisto, usually stalking you near your office window, never found you in your office, everyday of the week mephisto would report to sylus that you didnt show up. this rung bells in syluses head, concerning him, why weren’t you at work and whats going on?.

then so he decided to call you, one ring.. two rings..three rings.. sylus furrows his brows until he heard your voice on the fourth ring.

hello.. you answer his call.

great! youre alive sweetie

yea why.. whats up

sylus notices your voice is a bit hoarse, little bird told me you havent been at work all week, sylus says twirling his cup of water in the kitchen

his voice softens, is everything okay?

covered in a blanket, your body temperature mixed between hot and cold, your face heats up at his concern for you.

yea im okay.. i have a fever. before you could say anymore.

im coming now. sylus then shuts the phone in your face.

???

staring at your ceiling, you wanted at least brush your hair before he came over but your body was to tired to move, and before you know it, you fell back asleep.

a few hours pass, it was now night time, you’re still sound asleep, sylus was now at your door, with some goods in his hand, he opened your door with his spar key to your home.

it was quiet, too quiet, sylus sighs, his concern grows as he steps closer to your room. knocking lightly at your door.

sweetie im here, sylus says softly

you wake at his voice and scramble out of bed, opening your room door you’re met with sylus.

though sylus is happy to see you, his brows furrow with concern, once he sees you.

your hair is slightly messy, your oversized sweater falling off your shoulder, face red, lips plump, eye bags visable. you definitely looked sick.

you make way for sylus to walk in, as he walks in he complains, sweetie why didnt you tell me you’ve fallen sick?

now sitting on the edge of your bed, you follow behind him, i didn’t want to worry you. lightly trailing off

syluses brows furrow, he deeply looked offended by what you said. crossing his arms, you worry me more by not telling me things sweetie.

your brows upward tilt and you pout slightly, fine, ill tell you everything from now, mimicking sylus, crossing your arms.

sylus chuckles. good. i want to know everything. he softly says taking out the goods he got you putting them on your bed.

heating and cooling pads, some hello panda biscuits and a lot of other snacks.

you lightly laugh as sylus spills everything out of the bag, you knew sylus was a softie at times but this was cutely funny to you.

disturbing your train of thought, sylus gets up, grabbing your hair brush sitting on your vanity.

your eyes following where he was going, you then make room for him to sit behind you, so he can brush your hair.

sylus sits behind you comfortably, grabbing your hair to face him, his fingers gracing your neck, tickling a bit.

he begins to brush, gently,, when did you catch this fever sweetie?

you hesitate before answering… monday

tch tch tch

you giggle lightly

in a comfortable silence, sylus finishes brushing your hair and begins to braid, the back of his fingers gracing your neck time to time tickling you making your ears red, you feel them hot, and you pray sylus doesn’t notice how such little things take affect on you.

but he noticed, a slight smirk on his face, he kissed the back of your neck.

your face heats up even more and you elbow him.

he laughs, hugging you from behind, his chin, on your shoulder, bringing you close to his body.

youre hot, is it your fever or me.

you turn to face him, pinching his lips.

stop talking, your face hotter than ever, your heart beat felt on the side of your neck.

sylus grabs your wrist, if i dont? his face close to yours, sharing the same breath

sylus, you push him back lightly, youll get sick

sylus rolls his eyes playfully, putting the back of his hand on your forehead

youre hot, sylus gets up, getting the cooling pad on your bed, tearing it open, lifting your face, the palm of his hand on your chin, putting the cooling pad on your forehead.

in reality you were almost all healed up, youre just hot because of sylus.

want anything to eat sweetie? looking you softly in the eye

no.. not hunrgy, lifting your blanket tucking yourself in.

sylus picks up all the things on your bed placing them back in the bag, hanging it on your door knob. coming back to you cupping your face, i should let you rest now sweetheart, ill come by tomorrow.

placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, im glad i saw you today, he lets go and before he walks away from you, you grab his sleeve, stopping in his tracks.

stay?

mhmm, sylus now interlocking fingers with you.

you pull your interlocked hands towards you and he falls on top on you.

needy i see. hovering over you, his arms on each side of your shoulders. you wrap your arms around his neck.

stay with me tonight? you softly repeat

the look on your face couldn’t bring him to tell you he had things to do.

anything for you, my beloved.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

authors note: sorry i haven’t posted in like a week hope this fluff makes up for it (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

©sylusdoll 2024

taglist @sanemistar

[syluslnd]

HIII

COULD U PLS DO A FIC WITH A MOTHERLY READER WHO IS REALLY CARING AND KIND FOR SYLUS PLSSS.

i imagine she’s always looking out for him, Mephisto as well as the twins.

THANK UUUUUU

when your motherly instincts kick in

The front door opened quietly but you could feel him before you saw him. Sylus always tried to be subtle, but even his steps had a certain weight to them—like he was carrying the world on his shoulders but wouldn’t let anyone see it. You turned around just in time to catch his eyes, sharp but softened as soon as they met yours.

“Welcome home” you greeted with a warm smile, already moving toward him.

“Hey sweetie” Sylus’s voice was as deep and steady as ever but there was a hint of tension in his shoulders that you couldn’t ignore.

You took in the way he was standing, just a little too stiff, a little too careful and your brow furrowed. He was trying so hard to look unaffected but you knew him better than that.

Without saying a word, you reached out and poked him gently in the side. He winced, barely noticeable but you caught it. You narrowed your eyes, folding your arms in that motherly way he always teased you for.

“Gotcha!” you said with a knowing smile. “and don’t even try to say it’s nothing.”

Sylus sighed, trying to look away but you tilted his chin back toward you, your voice soft but firm. “Don’t think you can hide when you’re hurt, Sylus. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s nothing, really.” His attempt at reassurance fell flat when he shifted and another flash of pain crossed his face.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Nothing, huh?” You took his hand and gently led him to the couch, easing him down as if he were fragile, even though you both knew he was far from it. But it didn’t matter to you—right now, he was hurt and that was all it took to bring out your full motherly instincts.

“Sit still” you instructed, disappearing for a moment to grab the first-aid kit. When you returned, he looked up, watching you with that mix of amusement and exasperation you loved so much. He knew there was no use arguing with you when you got into this mode.

Carefully, you kneeled beside him, setting to work on cleaning and bandaging his wounds. Sylus flinched at your touch once or twice but he tried to keep still, his eyes never leaving yours as you worked.

“kitten..you’re too good to me, you know” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe”you replied, meeting his gaze, “but that doesn’t mean you get a free pass to keep things from me. Next time, tell me when you’re hurt. I don’t want you pushing through things alone.”

Sylus let out a soft chuckle, a sound that melted into the air like warmth. “Alright, alright. I promise.” The promise felt real, genuine, and he reached up, giving your hand a gentle squeeze in thanks.

You were just finishing up with the last bandage when you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps—two pairs, unmistakably familiar. You turned just as Luke and Kieran entered the room, looking a little worse for wear themselves, like they’d had a rough day of training.

“And where have you two been?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at them in the same way you’d done with Sylus. Both twins stopped dead in their tracks, trading sheepish glances.

“Uh… training?” Kieran offered, scratching the back of his neck, clearly trying to look innocent.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought” you replied, hands on your hips. “I told you all to take it easy and look after yourselves. Do you want to end up hurt like Sylus?”

They shifted, looking apologetic but they couldn’t hide their amusement as you gave them your best scolding look.

Sylus, meanwhile, was grinning, clearly enjoying the show. “I think you’re adorable when you get all angry” he said softly, just loud enough for the twins to hear.

They both stifled laughs, but you caught their giggles. “Laugh it up, boys” you teased, trying to keep your stern tone but failing as a smile broke through. “But seriously, all of you—take care of yourselves. I don’t want to keep patching you up every time you walk through that door.”

The three of them nodded but their smiles betrayed them, showing just how much they adored you in that moment and maybe, you thought, as you took one last glance at each of them, maybe they’d actually start listening—if only so they could see that look of worry fade from your face.

But for now, you were just glad they were all home, safe and that you could care for them in the way only you knew how.

[heartnoose]

Mephisto with babies is so goddamn funny. I can’t tell if he’s making those horrible faces because of his excitement from the extreme cuteness, or if it’s to try and scare them. Who am I kidding, it’s probably a mix of both. Also “Dress them in embarrassing matching outfits!”, I feel like he took pics of them. Because yeah he loves anything cute and looking at cute pics, but he would totally use old baby photos of the twins in cute outfits to blackmail them, I just know it. Killing two birds with one stone like the mastermind tactician he is

[pompeiisystem]

Imagine the brothers baking you an extravagant birthday cake for your birthday.

Lucifer is in charge of keeping everyone in order and ensuring everything goes smoothly.

Mammon is in charge of going out to buy the needed ingredients.

Levi is the prep chef, mixing and chopping and whipping what needs to be done.

Satan is in charge of heating the oven and keeping an eye on the cake as it bakes, making sure it's baked to perfection.

Asmo does the decorations, maybe some edible rose petals or whipped topping with your favorite berries.

Beelzebub is not only in charge of controlling himself, but as a small reprieve for his hunger, is in charge of getting rid of the extra ingredients however he wishes.

Belphie is charged with keeping you distracted while this all happens under your nose.

Diavolo is currently amassing a group of your friends to join him in preparation of your arrival at the castle.

Barbatos has skillfully made several tables, places plates and has been charged with cooking you the finest supper the devildom has to offer in honor of your special day.

Simeon is tasked with bringing the finest Demonus and wine he can aquire, having been given a hefty allowance for this day.

Luke is in a frenzy, packing and wrapping everyone's eccentric and thoughtful gifts.

Solomon is preparing a truly breathtaking spectacle of magic never seen before. Something to make your heart skip a beat and make your eyes soften.

Mephisto is bringing his finest steed to take you on a scenic ride through the devildom.

Thirteen is planning her most devilish invention yet, putting the finishing touches on it before she unleashes it up on everyone.

Raphael is busy, as per usual, but has gone through the trouble of sending you an exquisite outfit he had commissioned from the finest seamstress in the three realms.

And you?

You are left to enjoy the abundance of love and care your friends have put together specifically for you.

[acciotaitlynn]

mc using the boys as a rebound…I like angst plsplspls

I love u and hate u sm ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ srsly hurt myself so bad w this. not gonna feel better til i can hug zayne. i wasn't sure if u were requesting for all 4 guys at once, but i'm not the best at those yet, so i just drew 2 names for torture. i really hope it's angsty enoughh i tried ♡︎

જ⁀➴₊⊹ sylus‣you⌇zayne‣you

જ⁀➴₊⊹ 18+ sexual content. unprotected sex. p in da v. it sad i hate it

› 3,083 words

・・・・・​​⟢

When you walked in on Sylus kissing a woman who was definitely not you, you genuinely couldn’t believe it. His hand hovered suggestively over her lower back as she pulled him down to meet her height, their lips entwined in a moment that felt impossibly intimate. You stood frozen in the doorway, blinking rapidly, desperate to clear the shocking image from your mind. “What the fuck,” you murmured, your disbelief barely a whisper. But Sylus heard you. His head jerked up, shock and anger flaring across his face as he pushed the woman away, his words cutting through the air like ice. “Get out of my sight.”

She scurried from the room, but not before flicking you a smirk over her shoulder—a look that felt like a dagger to your heart. Sylus, for a brief moment, considered chasing after her to make her pay for her audacity. She had approached him under the pretense of discussing business at the party, but the shocking kiss had caught him off guard.

In that moment, he realized how it all appeared to you. He could see the betrayal, the hurt, in your wide eyes, and it stopped his breath. “Sylus…” you began, and he reached for you, desperation etched in his features. But you recoiled instinctively, pulling back from his outstretched hand. “Stay away from me,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with raw emotion, small yet powerful. You were surprised the words even made it out, given the pain that enveloped you like a storm. “I never want to see you again. And don’t send that damn bird to look after me either.” With that, you turned on your heel and fled, leaving him standing there—stunned and helpless, watching the door swing shut behind you.

Sylus watched you go, confusion swirling inside him. He had no idea why he didn’t chase after you. Part of him felt a simmering frustration—you always seemed so ready to expect the worst from him. “Why can’t you just trust me?” he muttered under his breath. But he let you leave.

He wouldn’t, however, heed your warning about keeping Mephisto away. The black crow, perched high above, fixed it’s red-eyed gaze on your retreating figure, a silent witness to your pain. As you raced toward Linkon City, you didn’t even have a destination in mind—just a frantic need to escape.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring the world outside. The landscape whipped by, a wild mix of colors and shapes as your mind tried to process what had just unfolded. But then, a familiar sight broke through the fog of your thoughts: the bright sign of Akso Hospital loomed in the distance. You didn’t consciously remember the drive there; your feet seemed to know the way, driven by an instinctual pull. As you made your way through the halls, everything still felt like a blur. The world faded into a haze as you followed the path to Zayne’s office, moving quickly. You needed comfort, a sanctuary, from the only person in this world—besides Sylus—who could understand the storm inside you.

You barged into the office, your eyes wide and tears streaming down your cheeks. The moment Zayne saw you, he knew it had to do with Sylus—the man you chose over him just shy of a year ago.

Moving on from that breakup had been the hardest thing Zayne had ever faced. For what felt like forever, he struggled to be near you, consumed by the hurt you had caused. Desperately, you tried to console him, yearning to salvage your friendship. But Zayne was resolute. He wanted nothing to do with you or the criminal you had decided to build a life with.

Yet, you kept coming back, and little by little, the ice in Zayne’s heart began to thaw. He found himself aching for you again in a way that felt unbearable, and the days stretched endlessly without you. He longed for the days when anger was all he felt at the sight of you. That feeling was now a distant memory, easily overshadowed by the painful image of your heartbroken form before him.

In an instant, he reached for you, arms wrapping around your trembling figure. “It’s okay now, I’m here,” he murmured softly into your hair. The warmth in his voice only made you cry harder, gripping him as if he were your lifeline, burying your face in his neck. He held you close, offering a comforting embrace while you fought through the agony tearing your heart apart. His hand traced soothing circles on your back, gradually calming the storm of tears until you could speak and explain what happened.

“I know it was just a kiss, but�� I really trusted him. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.” You leaned back, searching Zayne’s gaze, the weight of your words heavy between you. “I should have listened to you. I’m sorry.” At that moment, you couldn’t explain why you rose up to kiss him—was it to dull the pain or out of a desperate need to erase the hurt in his eyes? Maybe it was a mix of both, an overwhelming impulse that surged through you as you pulled him closer.

His body locked up, every part of him screaming to pull away. “The only way this ends is with your heart broken again,” echoed in his mind. Yet, he couldn’t resist the magnetic pull, pulling you closer instead, his tongue boldly exploring your mouth with a deep sigh.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he locked the office door. With a gentle thud, he settled onto the couch, you straddling his lap, his hands tenderly cradling your face. His kisses were soft yet fervent, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and then trailing down the length of your neck. You closed your eyes, letting your hands roam over the familiar expanse of Zayne’s body. But then, a wave of disgust washed over you as you realized your thoughts were drifting elsewhere.

You couldn’t help but picture another pair of arms, the warmth of another skin beneath your fingers that felt more intoxicating than anything you’d ever known. “No,” you thought, pushing Sylus from your mind. The anger you directed at yourself was palpable. Here you were with Zayne, the one whose heart you shattered when you chose Sylus, and now you were using him to mend the wounds Sylus left behind. You were a horrible person. The absolute worst kind.

But as you fought to dispel the image of Sylus, you began to embrace Zayne’s touch. His warm lips and soft sighs were like a comforting aphrodisiac, enveloping you in a gentle familiarity. Slowly, you melted against him, surrendering to the sensations that began to overwhelm you. Your heartache slipped into the background, momentarily drowned out by the rush of desire ignited by Zayne’s touch.

Your fingers danced toward the hem of his shirt, your gaze locking onto his with a silent question. With a subtle nod, he allowed you to lift the fabric over his head. As your fingers traced the scars that adorned his skin, every touch, every kiss, every flick of your tongue, exorcised pieces of Zayne’s pain. But doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind. How could this possibly end well? Wouldn’t it inevitably lead to him being hurt? Deep down, he knew that if the choice came down to him or Sylus again, you would always choose the other man. A flicker of concern about Sylus crossed his mind—wouldn’t he object to Zayne’s hands on what he deemed “his?" But that only fueled Zayne’s desperation; you were his first, and he had every right to touch you if it was what you wanted.

His hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head to the side as he kissed you, nipped at your skin, trailing his mouth down your neck. Giggling and breathless, you ground against him, completely lost in the moment. Zayne could see from the look in your eyes that Sylus had vanished from your thoughts. In that intoxicating instant, there was only Zayne again, and he reveled in it. His mouth found the low neckline of your dress, his lips working to leave a mark on your soft skin. But the moment you realized his intent, your body tensed. You pushed him away with a gasp, whispering, “No.”

A low, rumbling chuckle filled the air, sending shivers down your spine. A familiar, oppressive energy seeped into the atmosphere, tendrils of red and black mist swirling around you, pulling you away from Zayne.

Zayne remained still, a calm, yet calculated expression on his face as he braced for what was about to unfold. The glare you shot Sylus burned with malice as the mist drew you closer to him, eventually dropping you unceremoniously at his feet. Sylus met your furious gaze, surprised by the intensity; it was as if the look alone could singe his skin.

He had been watching you from the moment you left him at the party, tracking every little thing through Mephisto’s camera feed—the touches, the sighs, the pieces of yourself you had offered back to the doctor without a second thought. Unprecedented anger simmered within him as he witnessed it all. He had only shared a simple, unwanted kiss with someone. And now you were out trying to rekindle something with your ex lover? That crossed a line, even for you.

As he watched you lean into Zayne’s caress, embracing the connection meant solely for him, Sylus felt the primal urge rise within him. The moment you banished him from your mind, losing yourself in the electrifying kisses Zayne placed on your tender neck, he snapped.

“I think you’ve had enough fun for one night, sweetie,” he declared, his voice sharp and devoid of its usual warmth. It dripped with an icy detachment that sent a chill spiraling down your spine, warning you that he was not to be trifled with. Sylus reserved that tone for moments when he was truly angry, and right now, he was seething. He turned that frigid voice on Zayne, head tilted, a sharp glint sparkling in his eyes. “Do you know why she wouldn’t allow you to mark her skin?” Zayne narrowed his gaze, the answer hovering on the edge of his consciousness—a truth he couldn’t escape since that gut-wrenching ‘no’ had slipped from your lips, tangled with the fear that etched across your face.

Sylus leaned in, his words dripping with venom, his power swelling in the room once more. This time, there was no mist, no visible signs of his evol, but it was palpable, wrapping around everyone in the room. “She knows she doesn’t belong to you. Even when she hates me, even when she seeks comfort in your arms—she will always be mine.” Remember this: there won’t be a next time."

With that, you were tossed over Sylus's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As you punched at his back, tears sprang to your eyes, fueled by the look of torment on Zayne’s face as the door to his office shut behind you. You should never have come here.

“Put me down, Sylus!” you demanded, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. He let out a sarcastic laugh, the chill of his tone cutting deeper. “It would be in your best interest to keep quiet, kitten.” Despite the icy facade, a hint of hurt laced his voice, squeezing your heart like a vice. This had all spiraled so far out of control. You shouldn’t have put him or Zayne through this turmoil.

Yet, guilt paled in comparison to the anger festering within you, the memory of him with that woman playing in vivid detail, stoking the fire of your rage. Sylus seemed to revel in your fury. He tossed you into the passenger seat and buckled you in with more force than necessary, a hint of satisfaction in his demeanor.

The car ride home was silent, tension crackling in the air. Sylus’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as he fought to maintain his composure. You remained quiet, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. Stupid, arrogant prick, you thought, dragging you out Zayne’s office like you were nothing. The anger swirled within you, refusing to let go. You threw yourself back against the seat with an irritated huff, drawing an amused glance from Sylus. “You have nothing to be angry about,” he said, his tone teasing yet laced with a dark undertone. “You'll wish you’d know that before you ran off to your precious doctor.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. “Are you forgetting that I walked in on you with her tongue down your throat?” you shot back, voice low and fierce.

Sylus just chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled into the driveway, clearly unfazed. Your anger spiked when his evol took control again. The infuriating mist wrapped around you, dragging you up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Cold chains locked around your wrists—chains that typically thrilled you now only filled you with dread. This was bad. You’d never seen Sylus this furious. With each passing second, anxiety gnawed at you, and by the time the door swung open, you were near trembling.

Sylus stepped in, his gaze sweeping over you with a slow, deliberate smirk. “What’s this? Do I detect a hint of remorse in you, sweetie?” he teased, voice dripping with mockery. “I’m sure it’s only because you’re worried about what I might do to you.” Your heart raced as his crimson eyes bore into yours, holding an intensity that made it hard to breathe. You swallowed hard, your wide eyes searching his for any hint of his true intentions. But before you could speak, his lips crashed against yours, and his large hands gripped your face possessively, pulling you firmly against him.

The air was charged between you, a tension that felt almost palpable. Sylus’s lips traced a path down your neck, leaving your mouth to explore the delicate skin with an intensity that made your heart race.

He paused just above the faint mark Zayne had left, his warm breath brushing against it before his lips and teeth took over. Each kiss left a deeper bruise, a testament to his need to overwrite the other man's attempted claim.  When he finally pulled back for air, his expression had shifted. Gone was the anger; instead, his eyes mirrored a heartache that cut deeper than any physical wound. “She lured me into that room under the guise of discussing business for an upcoming auction,” Sylus confessed, his voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t kiss her back, nor did I want her disgusting hands on me. You have to believe me; I'd never do that to you, kitten.”

Tears filled your eyes, stinging as you absorbed the weight of his words and the raw sincerity behind them. The realization hit hard—this turmoil had all stemmed from your insecurities. “You could have let me explain myself, you know,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart ache. “I should have,” you replied, your tone gentle and full of regret. Before you could reach out for him, the chains binding you rattled loudly. In a swift motion, Sylus flicked his wrist, and they fell to the floor.

You wasted no time, cupping his face in your hands, desperate to soothe the hurt that marred his features. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. “That really hurt, kitten,” he admitted, his eyes squeezing shut as if the truth pained him more than any physical wound could. He buried his face against you, the weight of his confession hanging in the air between you. Opening up didn’t come easily to Sylus, but he needed you to understand the depth of his hurt—he wasn’t as heartless as you might have thought.

Everything inside you surged with the desire to ease his suffering, even if you couldn’t erase the hurt you’d inflicted on both him and Zayne. You guided him under you, straddling his lap, your lips finding his again. As your fingers wove through his hair, you poured all your remorse and affection into that kiss.

It was never difficult to show Sylus how much you loved him; your affection radiated from your very being. But tonight, you were determined to pour every ounce of your love into the moment. You gently guided his neck to kiss and lick every inch of him, leaving delicate marks along the way. Sylus melted under the weight of your adoration, his body going pliant as he let you head him wherever you desired.

His hands eventually found your hips, the gentle pressure of him grinding you against him setting a slow, intoxicating rhythm. You lost yourself in the softness of his beautiful lips, kissing him until they were swollen and slick, leaving him with a blissed-out expression reflected in his enchanting eyes. As he lifted his hips to let you free his length, you felt a spark of need ignite within you, the urgency to have him inside you overwhelming. Without hesitation, you aligned his thick tip with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto him, inch by inch. Sylus gasped, a small, breathless noise escaping him as he watched the two of you become one.

His gaze was half lidded with lust, searching yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “I love you, Sy,” was a soft murmur in his ear as you felt him crush you against him with a deep groan. It was almost impossible to keep up with his movements now; pleasure consumed you as he thrust up into you without abandon. “I love you,” you whispered, again and again, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear gently.

Sylus’s response was primal—he crushed you to him, letting out a hoarse shout as hot ropes of his essence filled you, triggering an orgasm so intense it left your body quaking and trembling as waves of bliss washed over you, leaving you both breathless and whole.

As you both came down, wrapped in each other’s arms, soft whispers of love floated between you, binding you closer together.

In the distance, the flickering light of a hospital office turned off, and a doctor began his lonely walk home, painfully aware of the passion igniting in the world beyond.

​​・・・・・​​⟢

[lunaekalenda]

"he drinks his morning coffee in this exact spot." his voice wasn't more than a hiss, lips against your ear while he spoke low. the lights were out, and the sun gave way to the moon long time ago. the café is quiet, silent, dark. only one wall sconce barely illuminated all the bar, the recently clean glasses that wait for another use tomorrow, the shiny coins on the tip jar that he didn't collect yet and the bottles of alcohol that decorate the wall behind the furniture. it smells like coffee, like pastries, like cigarette smoke. it smells exactly like him.

you can sense it when he gets closer to kiss your neck, when your fingers tangle on his hair, when his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer to him before taking it back to your thighs. sitting on the bar, he's between your legs, tall enough to reach your mouth. his lips follow an imaginary line through your jaw, down your neck, near your shoulder. he bites, licks, kisses; the exact pressure in each of them to make you beg for more. his hands, big and warm, rest on your thighs, so close to the end of your dress that he plays with the clothing, tangling it on his fingers while his caress ascends up your skin. your mind has only one thought, and it's him. his name, his eyes, his hands, his mouth, his body, his smell. all your senses are drunk of him.

"baby, you didn't deserve that." he purrs. his mouth is back on your jaw, leaving sweet, soft kisses on it, so close to your lips yet so far. "he's an asshole. he doesn't even know how lucky he was for having you by his side." he whispers. his hand brushes your inner thigh gently, just a caress, while he speaks, leaving a kiss on your chin before. "he was ungrateful and a cheater. and you deserve someone who worships you." his lips are now on the corner of yours, kissing sweetly. "someone who would do the impossible to make you happy." his lips wander around your mouth, kissing the corner on the other side. "someone like me"

finally, his lips collide against yours, fierce, passionate. your bodies get closer, your breaths mix and your hands search the other's face, neck, sides. long caresses that run everywhere on your bodies. he bites slowly your lower lip, before pecking you sweetly and taking air. your eyes focus on his and his thumb takes away the glossy lip balm that he messed up, a tiny giggle escaping both your mouths. his red eyes scan your face, while his hand caresses your cheek sweetly. Sylus presses his lips together, before releasing a long sigh. your mind repeats his words on your head. someone who worships you. who makes you happy. someone like him.

it was evident that Sylus liked you from the very first time you met. his eyes couldn't help but wander over your body, over your face, trying to learn how to control himself while you bite your lips or expose your neck. his fingers play with the ribbon on your shirt, as your forehead rests against his. he seems like speaking, but closes his mouth quickly. there's no more sound than your breaths, muffled by some drunk teenagers that walk in front of the closed bar. he takes a step back, entering behind the bar, getting a glass of water and offering another one for you. he drinks in silence, as you do, before he speaks.

"it's been a long time since the first time it happened." you freeze. you asked him for details, after all, before the conversation turned flirty, and suddenly you two were making out on the bar and it felt way too good to worry about him. about your boyfriend. or what you should call your ex.

"mephisto?" he nods once. he takes your glass and cleans it behind your back. bending on the bar.

"he saw them. the images got directly on my phone." Sylus closes the tap and dries his hands. then, he gets closer to you again. "i'm sorry."

his brows are tense and his hands are closed in fists. taking them, you tangle your fingers with his slowly, smiling.

"better to discover it before we were walking down the aisle, don't you think?" he giggles, red eyes going back to your face. his hands feel natural tangled with yours, an even when it's been already a month since he cheated or, at least, since when you saw him, the kinda grumpy barista under your flat has been a relief. you've spent whole afternoons here, talking with him, crying with him, laughing with him. you look at Sylus now, back between your legs, a lazy index making patterns on your leg.

"so..." his voice sounds deeper than usual, and you find yourself thinking about how nice it would be to hear him every morning. "are you feeling better?" you laugh loud while he smiles. "i mean, i have more if you're still not feeling nice."

you feel your cheeks hot after his words, after the way he looks at you, after how he bites his lip and gets closer to your body. the tension grows as the sounds of the street disappear, only being able to hear his quick breath. his hand takes yours to his chest. his heart races against your palm. he exhales, softly, eyes closed. "this is what happens whenever i see you enter on the bar. my heart wants to escape my chest." your lips show a big smile before pressing a kiss to his chest.

"the bad-boy, the grumpy barista, has a soft spot?" the joke tone in your question made Sylus laugh, before his hand was under your jaw, guiding your lips towards his.

"i'll gladly show you who is my soft spot, sweetie."