#s'vec sylar

[cristobalrios]

" He's the only one I trust with my soul, My mind and my heart and all my control. "

[ @cristobalrios / @ihlonhae ]

PSD made by @somresources. Edits made by Angel and Dawn

[lorios]

Sylar, late to a meeting with Starfleet: "Sorry I am late, I was doing stuff."

Cris, noticeably disheveled, smug look on his face: "I'm stuff."

[agnespjurati]

Headcanon, Sylar and Agnes going to a bar together. A girl flirts with Agnes. Sylar attempts to be a successful wingman but has no idea what he's doing at all

He absolutely would and Agnes would be so startled over whatever he says that she just starts laughing and whoever flirts with he would find this weird but kind of adorable and wonder if these two are siblings or something.

[evilkennedy]

Distractions

Pairing: S’vec Sylar (male OC @plaktow-ed) x Cristobal (Cris) Rios 

Word count: 1,669 

Summary: Sylar has overworked himself and Cris has a plan to get him to rest. (Can alternatively be known as the first time they actually confess their love for each other after months of flirting.) Fluff ensues. Tiny bit of angst if you squint. 

Although this meditation upon mortality may soon induce in us a sense of anguish, it fortifies us in the end. Retire, reader, into yourself and imagine a slow dissolution of yourself - the light dimming about you - all things becoming dumb and soundless, enveloping you in silence - the objects that you handle crumbling away between your hands -the ground slipping from under your feet -your very memory vanishing as if in a swoon -everything melting away from you into nothingness and you yourself also melting away -the very consciousness of nothingness, merely as the phantom harbourage of a shadow, not even remaining to you. I have heard it related of a poor harvester who died in a hospital bed, that when the priest went to anoint his hands with the oil of extreme unction, he refused to open his right hand, which clutched a few dirty coins, not considering that very soon neither his hand nor he himself would be his own any more. And so we close and clench, not our hand, but our heart, seeking to clutch the world in it. The Captain paused in his reading to ponder the meaning of this passage. He often wondered how he would approach his own death. There were several brief moments in time where he thought his life would be taken by using his own hands, however things were different for him now. He still thought that he wouldn’t shy away from death nor would he hold onto the world with all of the energy and strength he had left, if it was his time to go, it was his time to go. There was hardly anything to do but to accept it, otherwise life would be spent fearing death and that is no life at all. Rios switched the legs he had crossed, switching the right out for the left, as he began reading the next passage from the philosophy book. He took a small sip of his strongly brewed coffee before he heard a throat being cleared somewhere in front of him. He set down the mug that was still radiating warmth and looked up, meeting the gaze of an EH. He instantly recognized that it was Emil, the EMH. He bit back a groan as he closed his book, “What have I done to be graced with your presence this afternoon?��� Emil was clearly used to this type of behavior as he only gave the man a tight lipped smile that came across as more of a grimace. The EMH looked so stressed that Cris almost felt guilty about being so rude.. Almost. “Actually, Captain, you haven’t done anything that I know of and I would like to keep it that way, however your boyfriend is overworking himself to the extreme. I can’t get him to bloody stop!” This was obviously enough to capture Cris’ full attention. He didn’t even comment on the term Emil used for their relationship. He sighed, “Mierda.” He set his book on the table next to his forgotten coffee and stood. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been trying to help him and I appreciate it. But I’ll take it from here.” The EMH didn’t have to be told twice as he disappeared from sight. Cris shook his head as he walked to the door of his quarters, already contemplating what he would do in an attempt to get Sylar to relax.

~

Cris approached the sickbay soon after his conversation with Emil had ended. He took in the sight of Sylar working on some sort of hypospray concoction, no doubt one of his experimental drugs. He couldn’t help the small, fond smile that snaked its way onto his usually serious face. The closer he got to the other, the more he realized that Emil was right. He was slightly paler than usual and he looked dead on his feet. He crossed his arms as he approached Sylar.

 “Hey, mi amor. What are you working on?” He leaned on the table next to Sylar, the Vulcan looked mildly surprised to see him. He immediately attempted to make himself look as put together as usual, however Cris could see right through it. In the time period that he had known the man, he had observed all of his mannerisms and he knew better than Sylar himself when the man had reached his limit. 

“Captain, I was not expecting to see you here, are you hurt?” Leave it to Sylar to be more concerned about him than he was for himself. Cris shook his head, “No, quite the opposite actually. I’m just bored.” 

Sylar tilted his head in confusion, “Bored? How am I supposed to help you with that, sir?” The man put aside what he was working on to provide all of his attention to the Captain. He might not have been expecting his company, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. Rios wasn’t expecting it to be that easy to get Sylar’s attention, he must have been really tired. Something that Cris had already assumed anyway. Despite their blooming relationship, they were both insecure as to the importance of one another in each other’s lives. Cris didn’t quite grasp the fact that Sylar would do anything if it pleased him. 

“Well, I was wondering if you could teach me some Vulcan phrases? I know enough to get by, but I’d like to learn more from you.” He gave the doctor the gentlest of smiles, not realizing that he only wore this expression around him. Sylar hardly felt like he could deny the Captain the opportunity to learn more Vulcan. He found it to be quite wonderful that the man wanted to learn from him. 

“I think I would like that very much, sir.” This response from the Vulcan only caused the man’s smile to broaden. “Great, are you alright with going back to my quarters? I have coffee to finish.” Sylar nodded shakily. His taxed body was ready to give up on him. He and Cris had been through a lot more in the past two days than they had been in the past few months that Sylar had been on the ship. Cris took in the state of the other man and wondered if he could even walk back to his quarters. He definitely understood why Emil was so concerned. He placed his hand on Sylar’s lower back. “Should I carry you?” Sylar’s eyes widened slightly, in what could only be described as surprise. “I should be fine to walk-” His knees suggested otherwise as they buckled beneath him, Rios was quick to react by lifting him up bridal style. 

He raised an eyebrow at the man who was now in his arms, “Should be fine to walk, right?” He couldn’t help but tease the other man and he noticed that it caused a small blush to appear on the other’s cheeks.

~

After they both settled cross-legged on Cris’ bed with a cup of coffee, and tea for Sylar, the Vulcan spoke. “What would you like to know, Captain?” He set his tea down on the nightstand beside him, having gotten tired of holding it as Rios contemplated his answer, “I want to know anything you can tell me.” 

Sylar had to think for a moment before coming to the conclusion that he could teach him small, popular Vulcan phrases. “Well, there is ni’droi’ik nar tor, this means I am sorry. If you use it, you are asking for forgiveness.” After stating this, Sylar yawned. Cris noticed this and laid his legs out, he then guided Sylar into laying into his lap, all while speaking, “Ni’droi’ik nar tor?” Sylar did not protest against laying in Cris’ lap, too exhausted to even argue at this point. He listened to Rios’ slightly butchered pronunciation of the phrase, “That was close enough.” It was strange to have someone so close to him that also respected and was interested in his culture. It was pure. 

As Sylar spoke again, Cris began running his fingers gently through his hair. He closed his eyes, comforted by the touch, He purred lightly, similar to a cat, “I have one that you might like.. Bath’paik.” Cris laid his head back on the wall behind him, still running his fingers through Sylar’s hair, “And what does that mean?” He felt utterly relaxed at the moment, it was truly unbelievable how calm the other man’s presence made him. 

Sylar hummed, “It means Damn you.” He still had his eyes shut as his body slowly began to relax, he was equally as comforted by Rios’ presence. The aforementioned man chuckled slightly, “I do like that.. Bath’paik. I’m going to have to use that one.”

The Vulcan’s mind started to become dazed as he searched for the next phrase, “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.” This one, he meant. He was just saying it outright to Cris. He hadn’t necessarily meant for it to slip out, but it did. It hardly bothered him while he was in this state. 

Cris had heard this one before. It was very important to all Vulcans. It sounded like he was just saying it to him, He swallowed against his dry throat, “And that one?” Sylar hardly registered that he was being asked a question, “It means.. I cherish thee. It is something that a Vulcan would usually say to a bondmate. I am saying it to you because it is true.” Shortly after he spoke, the CMO fell asleep. He really was very catlike. Cris felt his chest fill with warmth at the admission, “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, indeed.” He didn’t notice the other had fallen asleep until he received no response. He looked down at the sleeping man and shook his head fondly. How he had managed to worm his way into the Captain’s scarred heart was unknown to him, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest. Sylar shifted off of his legs in his sleep and curled into his side. Cris slid down next to him and kissed his forehead, “Te amo, mi amor.”

Note: This was way longer than I was expecting and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did Sylar some semblance of justice I- anyway. Also forgive me if Cris is out of character a bit, I’ve still only seen clips of him. Thanks for reading. <3

[boundswordasqalankhkai]

"Are you alright? I do not believe I have ever seen you this way before."

Elnor felt like he was going to be sick, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of Sylar. He had said something in Romulan earlier and noticed how uncomfortable the doctor had looked because of it, so he asked the captain about it, given how close the two are and he had a feeling he wouldn’t get much out of Sylar about it.

He didn’t get much out of Rios, either, but he got enough. It wasn’t his place to pry, and he honestly didn’t want to know... any details about Sylar’s past with the Tal Shiar. At all. “I’m sorry, I--” He can’t say he’s fine, because he’s not, but it’s not about him. “Captain Rios told me--” He avoided his eyes. “I’ve noticed you’re... uncomfortable... When I spoke in Romulan, so I asked the captain and... He told me about your past.” He sat down, because he really needed it. “He didn’t tell me much, but... Enough.” He looked up at him. “I am so sorry for what they put you through.”

[cristobalrios]

[ @plaktow-ed ]

[agnespjurati]

Headcanon that Sylar uses that one regulation to recruit Agnes into Starfleet in order to shield her from possible prosecution post-the fic where he choked Picard, since Cris was incapacitated and that made Sylar Captain temporarily. The regulation only applies in times of war, and they were technically at war with the Romulans so..

((Oh yes!! Agnes would be super confused about it but afterwards she'd probably give Sylar the longest hug ever))

{ @plaktow-ed }

[evilkennedy]

Mathematically Proportionate

Summary: Your favorite gays in space have decided to paint. Fluff ensues. 

Pairing: S’vec Sylar (male OC @plaktow-ed) x Cristobal (Cris) Rios

Word count: 1,694

Note before you read: Listen, I have had this planned for a while. I am just insecure and it took me a while to write out fully without wanting to cry. Anyway I’m gonna post this and run away.. please be nice I’m soft.

“!Ay caramba! What a day.” The Captain stood up on the teleportation pad, reaching a hand out to help Sylar up. They just had a meeting with what was supposed to be a potential client and it hadn’t gone well to say the least. Luckily, they were both safe and sound on the ship again. 

Sylar took the hand offered to him, using it to stand up proceeding to dust himself off before adjusting himself to straighten in his, somewhat stiff, usual position. “It was definitely something, sir.” Rios walked away from the pad, rolling his shoulders in the process, before mumbling a response, “You can say that again.” He couldn’t help but think about how sore they were both going to be for a few days following this. Sylar followed behind him without a word, hands neatly placed behind his back and thinking the same thing.

Rios huffed as he plopped down onto the piloting seat. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He plotted coordinates to the next place they were expected to meet a possible client. It took all of five minutes to get them onto the right course. He hoped that this call would actually be someone in need. Not an attack. He shook his head at the thought. Sylar was watching curiously behind him. Cris then closed the hologram, having already put the ship in the right direction. He clasped his hands together and stood. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. He looked away for a moment, thinking, “How do you feel about painting?” The questions weren’t really genuine questions as much as they were suggestions. His mind was working a mile a minute and he was sure that Sylar would notice his anxiety soon. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “You know that I do not drink, Captain.. And painting? I have only ever done so once and- well it does not matter.” Cris eyed him and nodded slowly. He asked the computer to replicate his favorite alcohol and began to walk away with it as soon as it had appeared, gesturing for Sylar to follow him.

~

Upon reaching his quarters, he opened the door and walked in. He was completely oblivious to the confused head tilt behind him, before Sylar spoke up, “What are we doing in here?” Rios smiled brightly without even turning to look at the other man. He had his eyes set on the supplies that they had come in here for. “We-” He paused picking up two canvases from a hidden corner in his room, “-are going to paint.” The soft smile hadn’t left his face as he turned toward Sylar, lifting up the two canvases in his hands. Sylar quirked an eyebrow typically at this. Cris had indeed mentioned painting..

The Vulcan’s expression softened, only slightly, as he noticed that Cris was still smiling. It was a smile the other only seemed comfortable to wear around him. It was quite lovely. “I suppose I can give it another try, if it will please you.” He held out his hands, offering to take the canvases so that Rios could carry the other supplies. The Captain obliged, handing him the canvases as he turned to grab the rest of what he had in his art collection.  He glanced over all of the items, luckily there was more than enough for the both of them. He then tossed all of what they needed onto his bed. He then grabbed some old newspapers in order to cover the area, or at least the area he was painting in, before setting everything else up. 

After this was all finished, Cris stood up straight, clasping his hands together. Sylar had only watched him curiously, not really knowing what to do. “Alright, this is everything. You can use whatever paints you’d like-” Rios gestured to the paints in the center of their designated area, “-just put the ones you want to use on your palette.” The doctor listened to every word carefully, despite having painted before. “Yes sir.” 

~

Several hours later, smooth jazz music was playing from Rios’ record player. He was pleasantly buzzed from the alcohol and almost finished with his painting, when Sylar spoke up, obviously confused, “Captain, why is my face wet?” These words caused him to look away from his painting and to his adorably concerned lover. His own appearance was a mess to say the least, he was covered in paint and  he held one of his brushes in his mouth as he glanced over the expanse of  Sylar’s face. He couldn’t help but laugh as he took the brush out of his mouth to speak, “You have paint on your cheek, dear.” This only confused Sylar further. “Why is that amusing? You have paint all over your face and in your hair.” The other man shook his head fondly, “It’s cute.” He didn’t say another word as he added finishing touches to his painting. He added a bright blue brush stroke against the soft cheek of the man in the painting. Sylar was blushing from head to toe as he finished his own painting. Something intricately detailed and rather beautiful. He momentarily wondered if Cris would like it. He was still blushing as his bondmate had spoken up again, “You finished?” He sat back, away from his own painting and Sylar could only come to the conclusion that he was done with his and that is why he was asking. He took a moment to briefly glance over his own. “Yes, I believe I am.” This caused Rios to smile, any anxiety he had experienced before this was long gone. “Okay, so usually when people paint together, they count down and then show each other their individual paintings at the same time. Shall we do that?” Sylar seemed to ponder this for a moment before decidedly nodding. Cris took his painting in both hands, slightly nervous to expose it to Sylar, as he’d never shared his artistic side with the man before. 

“Alright, 1… 2… 3.” They both simultaneously turned their paintings around. Cris gaped as Sylar’s painting came into his view. It was a sort of galaxy, but more ethereal than any part of the galaxy that he had ever seen. It was so detailed and very obviously well thought-out, much unlike his own painting which was decidedly not. He wondered where the Vulcan had come up with the idea. It was truly a sight to behold and he wondered why the man didn’t paint more frequently.

In his admiration of Sylar’s painting, he hadn’t realized the aforementioned man blushing even darker as he revealed his painting to him. He didn’t know what he had expected when Rios turned around his canvas but it hadn’t been that. How did he manage to capture him so beautifully? There was no way that he was this angelic in person, it had to have been Rios’ own artistic style in combination with the man’s vision of himself. 

Cris turned his own painting back around, now quite shy to hear the other’s opinion after having seen his lovely art. “I’m speechless. Where did you- Why don’t you paint more? That is the most aesthetic piece of art I have seen in a while.” Sylar wasn’t expecting this reaction from Cris and he could tell. “I- Well, sir, I have been told that I should stick with my chosen profession. It is a waste of time to do anything artistic as a hobby, since I do not have the emotion to properly express anything of meaning in a painting nor in a song.” Rios wasn’t surprised to hear this. These were obviously words that Sylar had been told before and he could not believe the absolute ignorance behind them. He softened his gaze as he responded, “If it means anything, I think it is absolutely stunning. Looks better than anything I’ve ever seen, even in person. Have you seen a portion of the galaxy that looks like this?” Cris had long since forgotten of his own insecurities since he began talking to Sylar about his painting. He watched as the man glanced at the ground before speaking again, “It is actually what I see when I look at you, occasionally. It is not a galaxy so much as it is your soul, or your katra as we would call it. I just portrayed it as I see it.” He glanced back up to gauge Rios’ reaction. He blushed slightly before letting out a breathless syllable, “Oh.” That wasn’t anything that he was expecting at all. “I’m flattered.” His demeanor had changed and he knew it. He felt a bit shyer due to the intimacy of the situation. They had both, in a way, painted the other. 

“I should be the one who is flattered, Captain. You painted me so.. Beautifully. I certainly do not look quite that… angelic. You have a natural talent. The proportions are mathematically, near perfect.” Sylar’s ears flushed a light green again at the thought of the painting. The idea behind it was sweet. He had even included the paint that he had gotten on his cheek. Cris shook his head, “It’s just how I see you. You are absolutely stunning. I only paint what I see.. In my specific style.” He chuckled lightly and rubbed his hands together, a nervous habit he developed as a child. 

This was enough to stun Sylar into silence. He was still surprised that Cris returned his affections, much more that he found him attractive as well. 

“Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, t’nash-veh t’hy’la.” The Vulcan spoke softly, still in awe that someone as wonderful as Cris had welcomed him into his life. The Captain easily returned the statement with his own as he stood, “Y te amo, mi amor.” He walked over to where Sylar was still sitting and kissed his forehead. “Let’s clean this mess up and then ourselves, what do you say? Then, we can hang up our paintings.” He held out a hand for Sylar to take. Sylar took his hand and stood up easily. “That does sound quite satisfactory, sir.”

Ending note: Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave feedback. <3

[the-plural-of-cris-is-crises]

For my mainblog @cristobalrios

I posted 1,273 times in 2021

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#rios and nog are just friend but like ... it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world like whenever anyone thinks quark is his ex he says no

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[cptnchristopherpike]

Fascinating. It appears that the women have a habit of referring to you as a father figure but with more than just genuine affection. (@plaktow-ed, S'vec Sylar, an OC Vulcan doctor)

“So I’ve noticed, doctor.  I think there’s something in the ventilation system.”

[cristobalrios]

“They tried to warn me about you when I was accepting your reassignment. Because of your past, and your trauma, and… Your ‘condition.’ They said that you have no empathy, and very little emotions, and while that is what Vulcans strive for, it’s not their reality, and it can be… extreme. It didn’t scare me away. If anything, it intrigued me. No empathy meant you wouldn’t pity me, or try to ‘fix’ me. I have enough empathy for both of us, I wanted someone who could help me be objective, because it’s… been difficult, since—As for your trauma, it would be hypocritical for that to be a deal-breaker. I can understand it, at least in some ways, and Starfleet rejected me for mine, there’s no way I would reject you for yours. But what they didn’t tell me was that you care. Deeply. You may not be empathetic, but you are compassionate. You see someone injured or distressed and you want to help them, in anyway you can. That’s better than empathy. What good is feeling someone’s emotions if you don’t do anything to help them when they want it? You are the kindest, gentlest person I know. The way you love is pure and intense, and… At times a bit overwhelming, what you’d be willing to do for me, and I love you so much for it. It certainly doesn’t hurt that you’re breathtakingly gorgeous, scars and all.

They say you are cold and unfeeling and dangerous, but… So is space. But space is still beautiful, and it’s full of life and warmth and it’s full of endless wonders, it’s always surprising me and I fall in love with it a little more every moment I’m out here. And I fall in love with you a little more every moment we’re together. I wouldn’t want to pledge my life or bind my soul to anyone else. You are mine as I am yours; body, mind, and soul. I vow to devote my life to loving you. To taking care of you, protecting you, respecting you. I will be patient and kind and strive to take care of you as well as you take care of me. You make me feel loved, and wanted, and protected. Miguel de Unamuno’s Tragic Sense of Life says, ‘When we enjoy ourselves, we forget ourselves, forget that we exist; we pass over into another, an alien being, we alienate ourselves.’ Well, maybe I’m ready to pass over into another, an alien being. You. Maybe knowing myself through my suffering isn’t the only thing to life. I know what it feels like to lose myself in someone else in ways I could never have dreamed of, to not know where I end and you begin; our minds and our bodies and our very essence inextricably intertwined and it used to scare me but it’s beautiful. Apart, we are two broken men who can never quite escape our pasts, but we’re stronger together. Together we are so much more than the sum of our parts, and we are more than our trauma, and our mistakes. We can do anything together.

So thank you Starfleet for your warning, but you should have warned me of how brilliant and breathtaking this man is. You should have warned me that I would fall madly in love with him and feel whole for the first time in years just because he looked at me with a look of such beautiful intensity with his piercing eyes the color of the sea I love so much. You should have warned me that those eyes would feel like home to me in a way I never thought I would be able to feel again. Thank you for sending him to me. Good luck getting him back again because I am never letting him go.

Sylar, I love you with everything I am and I can’t wait to be permanently linked to your brilliant, fascinating mind, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life at your side.”

- Cristóbal Rios to S’vec Sylar ( @plaktow-ed ), after their wedding ceremony on Coppelius, before their Vulcan bonding ceremony

[lorios]

Sylar: Captain, may I suggest you consider carefully what you are about to do.

Cris: How do you know what I'm about to do?

Sylar: I could describe to you in detail the psychological observations I have made about you over the past four years which would lead me to conclude you are about to take this ship inside the asteroid. But suffice it to say, I know you quite well.

Cris: One of these days I'm going to surprise you, Sylar. But not today.

[agnespjurati]

[ sleepy ]  for  your  muse  to  slowly  fall  alseep  on  my  muse’s  lap . +reverse because Sylar trusting Agnes enough to do that is soft

Agnes was so terribly tired. She’d been tinkering at the sickbay for hours. At first she’d been working with Ian, but he’d had to check one thing with the ship, and then the next, and then the next. Agnes had been left alone with her project of building a toy mouse for Spot II.

At some point she’d noticed that Doctor Sylar had sat down next to her. He sat cross-legged, and they spoke about cats, mice, and how Spot II loved to run after lasers.

Agnes had been awake for over 20 hours, again. She had leaned her head on Doctor Sylar’s shoulder just for a bit, because she was yawning so terribly. She was promising to him that she would get up and go to her room as soon as she’d get the mouse to walk.

Except that her eyes grew so tired that she couldn’t not close them. She closed them just for a few seconds - or so she said to herself - and promptly fell asleep to the comforting warmth radiating from the doctor.

[cptnchristopherpike]

“Do you require some breakfast, Captain?” (from Doctor S'vec Sylar @plaktow-ed)

“No, no...I’m fine, and if I feel the urge, I can always make my way to the Mess Hall.  I appreciate you asking, though, Doctor.”

[cristobalrios]

Cris cancels a date that would have been an uncomplicated night of relaxation in favor of the much more puzzling relationship between him and his CMO that may be completely in his head (hint: it's not)

[[ Wrote a soft early-Syrios drabble ]]

[agnespjurati]

“I know your name, your title. Your face. Yet who you are to me is obscured.”

Agnes smiled sadly. She had a basic idea of the situation given to her by Captain Rios. She did not know why but Doctor Sylar had forgotten her and the friendship she shared with him. It made her sad to know that he could not remember the things they’d shared together.

“To me, you’re a friend. We managed to save the ship from a hostile AI once and that made us friends. You think I’m fascinating, apparently. I like to talk with you because your approach to things is very practical. Do you think we could be friends even though you can’t remember it right now?”

{ @plaktow-ed }