#the wonder of wandering
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neoncowboy · 1 year ago
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Small girl in a BIG WORLD
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ktkat99 · 2 months ago
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Jason comes back from the dead and, as he's still a bit out of it, heads to the manor.
Crawling straight up through six feet of compacted earth is hard, especially after waking up suddenly in a coffin, so after he makes it inside, he sits down to rest on the couch.
And immediately falls asleep.
Hours later, Bruce returns home to find Jason's body, covered in dirt, dug up from the grave and left on his couch.
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nomohmoss · 10 months ago
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cherimoyatea · 2 months ago
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My Body is ready. My Wallet is not.
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lalunanymph · 2 months ago
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GRASSLAND ROMANCE
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SUMMARY the strongest tribal chieftain sets the stage to claim his most priceless reward
WARNINGS prisoner of war!reader, slave!reader, tribal chief!sylus, first time, fight-to-death-trope, concubine!reader, oral sex, breeding, mentions of lactating, size kink, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of misogyny, bartering, winning her favor trope, loosely based on the new sylus myth card, mdni, 18+
DAWN SAYS it's daddy sylus's time hehehe second one down, 2 more to go !! sylus is my ult bias and I definitely wanted to go for more of a khal drogo x daenaerys vibe when I started this out, so keep an eye out for bit of dark content discussed here... that being said, will be cross-posting this to a03 soon so stay tuned! <3
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─── ZAYNE ⊱ XAVIER ⊱ RAFAYEL
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The grasslands were not kind to those unfamiliar with its ways.
As a little girl, your grandmother would tell you stories of the fearless warriors traversing these bare lands in search of resources to plunder, steal and conquer. It instilled a sense of fear in you; a knowing instinct to never step out of line less you wanted to suffer the consequences of losing everything you loved.
The day you met Sylus was the day your short life came to its meaningless end.
Taken from your homelands to his tribe, you were relegated to cleaning tasks and cooking; trying to keep your head down and eyes off of you less you wanted to suffer fatal repercussions.
Your days living in sweet bliss were over; your childhood and girlhood gone in one fell swoop.
And yet, despite your best efforts to go undetected, you wound up catching the eye of the fearsome chieftain. His calls for you to his yurt could not be ignored.
You fully expected him to take advantage of your vulnerable state, using his position to conquer what remained of your dignity and hope. 
But, Sylus proved to be a different man behind his ruthless reputation.
A fan of music and wildland games, he often asked you to keep him company for the day, and when the nights got too cold, you were ushered into his private space, allowed to warm yourself with his brazier. 
The scent of moist rose and grapevine trimmings filled the air as you lounged right in Sylus’s arms, enjoying the warmth of his presence and the fire glowing brightly while snow and sleet raged outside of his yurt.
The fearless tribal chieftain was a relaxed man tonight, savoring the presence of his favorite concubine right in his lap. His large hands stroked your hair, fingers running through your locks. The robes he dressed you in were heavy yet comfortable, providing you shelter from the cold; a stark difference from the slave rags you were forced to wear during your earlier encampment. 
“What is on your mind, beloved?”
Beloved. Despite what everyone said or thought about you, Sylus saw you in a different light. A tender and cherished one.
You turned your head to gaze at him, a softness you reserved solely for him shining from your eyes.
“I was lost in my thoughts; thinking back to the time when I first got here.”
A dark look flitted across his face, and he fixed you with a prodding look.
“I know what happened was not ideal for you, beloved. But, you are safe now. I will not let anyone in this camp harm you.”
His promise was as good as gold in this world. Sylus was not someone who would mince words or give you false hope. Despite his stature as one of the most fearsome conquerors of this land, he was a man of integrity and word.
And yet… you couldn’t help the sadness eclipsing your features. 
The ceremonial choosing of his bride was coming up soon, and from the lines of women prepared for him, you paled in comparison. These women were trained from birth to please him, cook for him, and be the bearer of his children. They were thought in the grassland ways, something you were not familiar with.
The women chosen for him did not stick out like a sore thumb, nor were they foreigners of this land.
Each of them were meticulously handpicked to appeal to his tastes and desires; where you fit in, you had no clue. 
It wasn’t as if you were his tribe’s de facto pick. You were sure you weren’t on any of the elder’s lists, your fate relegated to being his concubine for life.
As if he could read your mind, Sylus tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. 
“Beloved, you are the only one for me. There is no one else in these lands I would rather spend my days with.”
You wanted to ask him why; what could possess a man like him to love a lowly woman like you?
But, you enjoyed his caresses on your cheeks and jaw; snuggled closer to him as the wind tore through the night, safe and secure right in his arms.
The next morning, you were pulled aside by one of the village elders, Enkh, as he looked you up and down. 
“My son needs a new wife after his old one died in childbirth,” scrutinizing you from head to toe, he fixed his beady gaze on you like a dishwasher studying a piece of vermin on a brass plate. “And you will do.”
The idea of being married to Enkh’s son, known as the most ruthless and cruel man in the entire tribe, filled you with unadulterated fear. You had no say in your fate, and spent the entire day wondering how to tell Sylus—the chieftain himself—of your dilemma.
But, you didn’t have to open your mouth and divulge the truth.
Sylus already knew.
He called you out to his tent, where some men who were sparring upped and left the second you arrived. In your hands, you held a pouch, given to you by Enkh’s wife before you left their yurt.
A symbol of choice for a woman about to be married, you were given explicit instructions to hand it to his son after his sparring win tomorrow. It was tradition for the winner to receive a wife as compensation, and from the thunderous look on Sylus’s face, you could tell he was not at all pleased about this latest development.
“They claimed you, just like that? Without my agreement?”
Despite not being his official concubine, everyone in the tribe knew of your position with the chieftain. You were virtually untouchable, and only higher up families like Enkh’s, could make the play for one of his concubine’s hands. 
This displeased your lover, who took it as an affront to his rule. 
But, he didn’t react the way you expected him to, with violence and malice as the forefront of his actions. 
Sylus led you to the heart of his yurt, where thick layers of felt and wool provided insulation from the chill. Dressed in traditional Bökh gear, he was preparing for the ceremonial sparring to begin when he heard word of your impending nuptials to Enkh’s son. He dragged you down to his side, letting you rest on the rugs and pillows surrounding the area before he shared what was on his mind. 
“Do you want to marry into that family, Y/N?” 
Instinctively, you shook your head. “No, Sylus.”
He nodded, pleased at your swift rebuke. “I am going to be honest with you—the only way we can circumvent both of our fates to marry different people is for me to participate in the fights myself.”
You gasped, wide-eyed at the revelation. “But, it’s unheard of. You are the chieftain!”
Rough fingers touched your face, caressing your cheek with a softness he only showed to you.
“I know, my beloved. But, think about the alternative. I do not want to lose you.” 
A grin stole across his handsome features, and he shot back: “If I lost, I’d be stuck here forever—in this limbo of never having you… but then again, could I really lose?” 
Unperturbed by his musings, you raised the stakes by straddling his lap, glaring down at him. In this position, he had to hear you out; he had to allow logic to take hold of his wilful mind. 
“Sylus, the rules of the game means that you have to steal the gem from your other opponent and then you can stake your claim. Are you sure you want to do this? You cannot back out once the games have started.”
The Grassland Festival, or the most important festivity for Sylus’s tribe that was happening in a few hours, was in tandem with the fighting ring for men to win the hands of their future wives. 
His red eyes, which shone like a grassland sunset, appraised your form astride his lap; soft and sure.
“My love, you severely underestimate my devotion to you.”
Turning your fates around, he flipped you back onto the soft pillows and rugs, a look of fond playfulness in those jewel-toned eyes.
“All I have to do is fight, yes? And I have never lost a fight.” 
His soft touch tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “You are the prize I must win, my love. I will do everything I can to make sure we stay together.”
Filled with happiness and the surety of his tone, you put your faith in what came next. 
Long and nimble fingers snuck to your waist pockets, where he retrieved the pouch given to you by Enkh’s family. 
“Hey—!”
You tried to reach back for it, but he held it from you, a smirk playing on his defined lips. 
“Is this what you are going to give the boy?” 
Warmth splashed across your cheeks as you tried to glare him down.
“Despite what you may think, you do not own every aspect of me, Sylus. I reserve the need to keep some secrets to myself.”
He hummed, clearly not believing you. “And yet, you spoke of the sincerity of our feelings. Isn’t this me being honest, little dove?” 
You sputtered, tripping over your refutes, and he rolled his eyes.
“Alright, love. Let me make it simple—”
He lifted you closer to him, letting you fall over his lap. The sudden proximity filled your senses purely with him; igniting sparks of heat across your entire body. 
“If someone were to hand the champion a pouch, should he take it?” 
He was teasing you, and it was clear he wasn’t planning to let up anytime soon. 
You huffed, trying to swipe it again. But, he was nimbler than you, yanking the pouch away from your outstretched hand. 
Sighing, you tried to pull him up, grumbling when you barely made him move an inch.
“Have you been training more?” You grumbled, eyeing his broad shoulders; the muscles stretching across his tanned skin. 
“Perhaps. Although as much as I have been honing my skills, I do still need someone to look out for me.” 
His smirk threatened to affect your entire composure, and you darted your eyes away, flushed and embarrassed at how easily he could get to you. 
The faith you had in him to win was astounding; there was a reason why he was known as one of the best warriors in the grasslands. 
“You’re the champion,” you grumbled under your breath. “Do you need me to watch your back?”
In response, Sylus’s smile softened around the edges, his red eyes taking on a tender quality. 
“Let me paint you a scene, love: I win the challenge, and then I get to be yours. How does that sound?” 
Tugging a stray lock of hair which fell loose from your braid, Sylus waited for your answer patiently. 
It was useless to try and dispute him. Whatever the strongest wanted, he would get—and he clearly wanted you. 
“Alright,” you responded softly, conceding with a smile. “If you win tomorrow, I will hand you my pouch. There is nothing you cannot do.”
Responding to your confidence, he chuckled softly, teasing you more by dragging you closer to him, enjoying your weight pressing onto his body.
“Or, we could do it together.”
He hummed, touching the hollow of your throat with his cool lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to staunch your reckless sounds.
“The second I get that gem, you run up to me, crowning me as your chosen one and I respond back.”
Struggling to control your raging thoughts, you murmured: “Will it work—such boldness?” 
To answer your question, he smirked, finding your flustered expression and slight doubt adorable. 
“My, my, love. Are you doubting me?” 
The world flipped around, and suddenly you were thrown over his shoulder. You gasped, confusion mingling with surprised delight as Sylus manhandled you with practiced ease. He stepped past the plush pillows and rugs, opening the flap of his yurt to bring you out into the mellow morning. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” Your sharp inhale spurred on his laugh, his low and rich chuckle making you flush warmly. 
“Didn’t you tell me this before, love? Actions speak louder than words.” To your mortification, he was heading right to the middle of the courtyard, where spectators were already gathering to witness the fight. 
“Sylus—!”
You smacked his broad shoulders, but he wouldn’t let you down. Sylus already had a plan in mind and you were helpless to stop him. 
“Oh, love, relax,” he teased, taking long, purposeful strides towards the other villagers. “I need to show them I already have a lover. And since she won’t let me take her away…” you could plainly picture his cocky smirk. “... I’ll just have to take her myself.” 
The rest of the villagers stopped in their tracks when they noticed their chieftain walking towards them, a smaller woman in his arms. Elders dropped what they were doing to whisper under their breaths, their judgemental eyes trained on Sylus’s smug face and the look of mortification on yours.
“Sylus—”
He set you down in the front stand, tossing you a wink for good measure.
Whispers rushed around the arena like wildfire, catching aflame from the look of pure devotion in his eyes; a look reserved just for you. 
Enkh’s son, a hulking brute by the name of Altan, shot him a glare—insulted by Sylus’s blatant claim on you.
Motivated by his wrath, the tribal chief turned to the other man, raising a brow. 
“Altan, son of Enkh!” 
His voice boomed across the field, shocking you out of your mortified stupor. 
“You dare claim one of my concubines as your wife? Do you know what that entails?”
The atmosphere in the arena tilted towards a frenzy, the people inadvertently roped in to witness the showdown of the year.
Since ceremonial rites were read and sacrifices were made, the last agenda for today would be the warrior fights. Sylus took his spot in the ring, unafraid. The head monk, a calm man by the name of Bataar, whispered something to Enkh, who glared at you as if this entire ordeal was your fault.
You shrank back in your seat, attempting to hide your scorching cheeks behind your palms.
The fight began, and it was clear from the onset that it would be an unfair one. Sylus, whose expertise and years on the field, easily overpowered Altan, pinning him to the ground. A horn blared, and the winner was declared.
A stirring eagerness and relief moved you from your seat, and you didn’t care for customs or etiquette when you ran across the ring, jumping right into his open arms. Sylus lifted you off your feet with ease, spinning you around, his laughter mingling with yours. 
In his palm, he held the priceless gem he stole from Altan’s belt— a symbol of his opponent’s virility. Its capture meant that he had won the other man’s intended bride fair and square. He handed it to you, and right in front of his entire people, you proudly proclaimed your acceptance of his proposal—slipping the jewel right inside of your pouch and handing it to him. 
Triumphant, Sylus took your offered gift, tucking it in the lapels of his leather harness with a contented grin. 
The tribe elders were helpless to stop their strongest from claiming you, as was the custom of these rituals. 
Sylus had no hesitation when he slung you over his shoulder again, a conqueror who had rightfully won his beloved. 
He didn’t care if whispers of your status or his incredible defiance towards the elders would reach his ears; all Sylus could think about now was savoring this priceless reward he fought hard to obtain.
Bringing you back to his yurt, Sylus let the flap fall close behind him, a clear signal to the rest of the tribe that he intended to enjoy his winnings in peace.
Your back met the soft pillows and rugs, his broad build blocking out the rafters letting in warm morning sunlight; lost in the depths of his jewel-tone eyes.
They shone like precious rubies, far more valuable to you than any material item in this world. 
The feel of your palm stroking his cheek, your fingers playing in his hair, suddenly made his stomach twist into hard knots. They were impossible to unravel, a bowline loop which went on for eternity.
His breathing turned ragged, gaze going soft as he looked at you—really took you in.
The sight of his beloved—his bride—right here in his home, about to be taken and claimed by him, set his nerves ablaze more than any war cry ever could. 
Sylus moaned unabashedly when you tangled your fingers in his hair, bold enough away from the prying eyes of others to fall prey to the undeniable attraction you’ve felt for him since the first time you saw each other.
He lets you bring him in for a kiss, your lips sweeter than wildberry dew.
“Sylus…”
The possessive need to claim you flared in him when you called out his name.
Smoldering attraction turned into a wild, untameable blaze, threatening to consume him whole. 
Due to his rugged nature, he never had a woman this close to him, her touch a balm to his rough edges.
In your arms, Sylus was more than the fearsome tribal chieftain whose name could strike fear in any man’s heart. 
He was wont to your desires, an instrument of your love.
“Please,” you licked your lips, and his eyes followed the gesture with a blatant look of desire. “Kiss me.”
You didn’t have to ask him twice. Sylus captured your lips in a deep and passionate kiss, swallowing your moans whole.
Your tinier fingers in his hair tightened, bringing his body closer onto yours. He fought back a shiver from the force of his desires as his body covered yours completely, trapping you beneath him under his weight.
“My love, you are playing a dangerous game,” he growled, adoring how fragile and small you felt under his hulking mass.
Dragging your hands down the slope of his shoulders, you felt his muscles rippling under your touch; his broad frame and the layers of sinew forming his brawny build leaving you lightheaded.
“Oh, my love. The sight of you underneath me, looking so vulnerable and lovely,” his voice dipped lower, a hoarse edge taking over it. “... it’s driving me wild.”
Shying away from such a bold declaration, you bit your lower lip. “Sylus, will it hurt?”
Sensing you were speaking about the act of copulating, he took your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. 
“A little, but it is nothing you cannot handle. Besides, I will be with you through it all—I will not hurt you, my love.”
The idea of a ruthless tribal leader like him, promising some young slave girl that he would be gentle with her, was so far-fetched from your idea of what a conqueror was that you began to relax in his presence.
You trusted Sylus because he has proven time and time again how your comfort and safety were his priorities.
Especially when he was this close to claiming you.
Steady yet hasty hands slowly unraveled the lapels of your thick coat, his breaths tumbling out in silent huffs. Sylus’s large palms were warm—far too warm on your chilly body.
The great chieftain was a silent, nervous wreck when he glanced down at his beloved, watching her with soft eyes and reaching out to her with an even softer touch. 
“Sylus… please.” 
The cadence of his name on your tongue will never not be the sweetest thing he's heard in his life. 
You returned the gesture, removing his leather gauntlets, slowly stripping him off his warrior bravado to reveal the sweet and gentle man underneath.
“Please, what?” He whispered against your throat. Outside, the cool breeze rattled the rafters, but inside his yurt and in his arms, you were warmer than a butterfly in spring. 
You seized, back arching when he kissed a tender path from your neck to your bare chest. 
The sight of your hardened nipples and smooth curves whipped through him like a frenzy, and Sylus grew impossibly hard at the image of your sweet body, swollen with child.
His child.
The fantasies of your breasts filling up with milk, the slope of your belly gently curving with the promise of his heir… 
 His thin patience was hanging by a thread.
Sylus shrugged off his sheepskin pants, tossing it to the side of the yurt as he quickly worked on the lapels and hooks of your clothing. 
Once your smooth body was bare to him, Sylus’s gaze softened, his tone almost reverent when he said:
“You look beautiful, my beloved.”
You had not imagined your wedding night (or, in this case, morning) to be a tender affair.
Where every brutish belief you once held towards his people melted away with every tender touch of this gentle chieftain.
Sylus propped a pillow under your hips, careful to lean his full weight onto you. Your eyes fluttered shut, a moan seeping past your swollen lips when you felt his tongue glide across your breasts, taking his time to play with and suck on your nipples.
His mouth moved down your body, teasing you with whispery kisses.
Parting your thighs wide, you realized a second too late what he was doing until he slotted himself in between; mouth pressed to your pelvis.
“Sy—”
The protests fizzled out the second you felt his tongue parting through your folds, tasting the effect he had on you.
Low whimpers slipped past your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Sylus… mhmm… s-stop—
But, he didn't relent. He glanced up at your flushed face, shaking his head. 
You can take it, beloved. Can't you? For me?
It wasn't the reluctance that set you back but the shame of such an intimate experience.
You had never experienced a man this close to your sensitive parts; the idea of him in this position itself was too much to bear. You should be worshiping him, not the other way around.
But, Sylus refused to listen to your pleas and moans—hellbent on pleasuring you.
His tongue traced patterns on your clit, drawing out more of your high-pitched whines. There was little doubt whoever passed by the yurts could hear your pleasured sighs. 
Sylus couldn't care less.
He wanted the whole tribe to know you were his;  that he had chosen you and you had chosen him.
His tongue delved deeper into your core, tasting your excitement. Some of it stained onto his face, his chin drenched with your juices.
Your hips rocked to the rhythm his tongue set, your moans reaching fever pitch.
Good girl. That's it. Show me how much you want it.
Sylus murmured, working you through your cresting pleasure.
It came like a rising high within you, soaring higher than any eagle could as you crashed to the ground, screaming his name.
Sylus tightened his grip on your thighs, doubling down on his efforts. Your mess stained his cheeks, his chin, driving his desire to a burning point.
He worked his way up your body, leaving kisses on every inch of skin his mouth could reach.
Finally reaching your lips, Sylus poured every bit of his devotion for you into this heated kiss, swallowing your moans and letting you taste him on his tongue. Strings of saliva connected your lower lip to his, hanging by a tenuous thread.
The heat of your cheeks would have burned you alive, the tension between your bodies rising to a feverish pitch.
Tenderly, he nudged your thighs to wrap around his defined waist, opening you to be taken by him.
The first stretch was accompanied by his lips on yours, coaxing you to relax and open up to him.
That is it… good girl… taking me so well…
The deeper he sank in, the more loud he was with his praise.
I adore you… you sinful, sweet girl… take me… take me good… 
Sylus!
Your cries reverberated across the sheepskin walls. It felt like drowning, your body sinking deeper into the plush woolen pillows.
Oh, oh… oh, right there…
He licked into the heat of your mouth, tracing the ridges of your teeth. 
There? Does it hurt? Do I make you ache?
Yes, you responded deliriously. Yes, yes and yes.
It was the kind of pain you could never forget, yet you desired it all the same. A masochistic plea of your body to be devoured and conquered.
Sylus raised himself up on his forearms, the bulging, rock hard muscles rippling with every exertion; his thrusts almost knocking you backwards if it weren't for his tight grip on your hips.
Every collision of his cock against a spot deep inside of you made your toes curl; leading you closer towards your desperate end.
Sylus—can't… close… 
It felt like a ball of tension growing bigger and tighter, growing uncontrollably hotter with every thrust, every heated whisper of his praise against your ear.
Sylus nipped your jaw, tracing his tongue against the curve of your lower lip.
His gentle insistence, coupled with his brutal thrusts made your body run hot and cold.
Goosebumps erupted across your skin. You were growing dizzier and hotter.
You gasp—fuck, fuck, this is too much—and he tells you just take it, darling.
Take it for me.
He nipped Your earlobe, pushing deeper against your body. 
Does it feel good? Are you close? 
Squeezing your eyes closed, you nodded.
Yes, Sylus… almost… 
Good, he traced his tongue across the heated Seam of your mouth.
Give it to me, darling. Let go for me.
One request. You gave into him.
“Yes, yes,” you shuddered, digging your heels into his lower back. 
Sylus groaned, expressions contorting into painful bliss when your walls contracted around him.
He worked you through them, letting you stab your nails into his broad back.
That's it, darling. Give it to me. Come undone for your husband. 
Husband. 
Husband. 
The word sent an unrestrained quake straight through your soul.
Yet, the reality was far sweeter.
Sylus slumped on top of you, spent after releasing ropes of warmth deep inside your quivering cunt.
Languidly, he rolled you onto his chest, skin pressed to warm skin. You were spent, soaked and still wrapped around him.
The act of consummation was over. You finally belonged to him.
And for the test of his days, Sylus would make sure to show you how much you mean to him; going above and beyond to declare his love. 
“I love you,” he slurred into the heat of your throat. “Always have. And from the very beginning.” 
You nestled closer into his side, feeling safe in the warmth of his arms, finally allowing yourself to embrace the reality of this powerful man’s infatuation with you. 
Amidst the vast and intimidating grasslands, you had ensured your survival as the feared chieftain's wife, with Sylus unwaveringly by your side.
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© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost on other websites and claim as your own. do not feed my content to AI.
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itsapmseymour · 1 month ago
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As promised everyone
The final bonus goal for Spooky Boy
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Demon Solaria
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shaylogic · 6 months ago
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Really thinking a lot about Monty's perspective on this scene
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ryllen · 8 months ago
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love is a compilation of coincidences
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... and chances u create urself
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juneflair · 2 months ago
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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 2 months ago
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Sylus: Grassland Romance (Takeaways)
I won’t lie, Sylus’s Grassland Romance is my 2nd favorite memory in LaDS Wander in Wonder Event. Because finally, they are being honest with their feelings and Sylus although wanting to appear nonchalant, he was actually ready to leave everything behind for M/C. I bet if M/C doesn’t say she miss Linkon, he would gladly stay in Grassland with her.
So let’s talk about the hug. In the first shot, Sylus appears to be shocked by M/C running to him. His eyes widen but he catches her nonetheless. In the second picture, he appears to accept the hug and nuzzles M/C’s neck in return. And on the last 2 photos you can clearly see that M/C relishes the hug and nuzzles Sylus neck in return. They are truly in love with each other.
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And let’s not forget the pouch. She chose him and he takes and claim her. Who will not be swayed by this guy?
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kykyonthemoon · 2 months ago
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Dream Of The Grassland
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In the grassland full of breezes, you by chance become Sylus's bride-to-be. Yet you no longer remember anything that ever happened between the two of you and find yourself falling for him all over again.
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── .✦ Sylus x Female Reader|MC
♡︎. Tags: R16, MDNI, suggestive themes, fake engagement, memory loss, light angst with a happy ending, a little hurt/comfort, fluff, pet name - kitten.
♡︎. Word count: 4k5
── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.
── .✦ Ky Ky’s notes: This story is based on his Grassland Romance card.
This is also my entry to Love and Deepspace - Wander In Wonder Fan Art Contest. I really appreciate all your support on my X <3
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When you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in the middle of a vast prairie. The green welcomed you, into the wind’s embrace. But the voice that just called your name from behind was not at all pleasant like the nature here.
You turned around. A completely unfamiliar face said to you:
"Let's go. Don't stand there anymore. It's late!”
You did not like her at all. 
Giving her a glance, you turned and spurred your horse forward, where the yurt roofs of the neighboring tribe created a brilliant red line on the horizon.
That was where your group of people were headed. That was where your betrothed was waiting.
Except that it was not truly your betrothed.
Tribes on this grassland often intermarry to strengthen harmony. And as the daughter of the chief of a small tribe, you were expected to marry the most powerful warrior in the neighboring region. The official wedding would be held in Tala, where every tribe on the grassland was gathering to attend the festival. 
The problem was, you were not the chief's daughter at all.
You did not remember who you were anymore. All previous memories were like a white mist engulfing you. You only remembered your name, since before being swallowed by the grassland, you had heard someone calling it so earnestly. You did not know where you came from. Narat, the girl who had just urged you to go faster, found you and brought you back to her tribe. As for you taking the place of the chief's daughter, that was another story.
The chief of the clan only had one daughter, and she already had a lover. Because he loved his daughter so much, he begged you to take her place. You had no history, no memories, no attachments. For you, life would be the same regardless of wherever you went. When you witnessed the young woman cry till she nearly collapsed because she wanted to be with her beloved, somehow you felt her pain as well.
But you did not want to marry someone you had never met. You only agreed with them since you had your own escape plan.
When your group arrived at the Kael tribe, the sky was a vibrant crimson. After a brief greeting ritual, you were escorted to a yurt and instructed to wait there alone. But you had no intention to follow their order. You hastily grabbed your luggage and sneaked away. Everyone was hurrying to another place to greet guests, so no one paid attention to you. You spotted your horse drinking from the trough and was able to take him away without causing any alarm.
But as you were ready to climb into the saddle, you heard multiple sets of distant horse hooves approaching. Afraid of being caught red-handed, you had to leave the horse there and hide behind the piles of straw. The men of the Kael tribe just led their horses into the stable, laughing and praising one of their warriors.
You had faintly heard the name Sylus. You were impressed by this name since you had heard Narat's group mention him, your betrothed. Aside from that, you felt an unusual feeling, as if you had some connection to that name. In any case, you had no plan to run into him, especially in the middle of a runaway.
You crept out from behind the mound of straw to investigate. The group of men began to depart. The last person leaving was the tallest, and he appeared to have heard you foot on a dry branch of wood nearby. He paused, his head turned to your hiding place.
You curled up, as if holding your breath. His slow, powerful footsteps grew closer and closer. That enormous dark shadow fell on you, and you gradually lifted your head.
Eyes as brilliant as two rubies stare at you. A look of astonishment crossed that person's face, but it was swiftly replaced by a joyous smile. 
"Were you here all this time, kitten?" 
He spoke up. You became a little bewildered and immediately stood up. In comparison to him, you suddenly felt quite small. You took a step back, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your wrist hard.
“Since I found you now, let us go home.” 
You attempted to get away from him, shouting: “Let me go! Do I even know you? I am... the bride of Kael's mightiest warrior - Sylus! If you dare to offend me…”
He released his grasp somewhat, but then drew you even closer to him. You lost equilibrium and leaned into his arms. He grinned and replied:
"Oh? Really? How convenient. I am Sylus.”
Having said that, he lifted you onto his shoulder and carried you back to his yurt like a bag of rice.
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In the yurt, you confronted Sylus, the Kael warrior and your betrothed. You used your fist to start the conversation, but you immediately understood why that man was honored as Kael's strongest warrior. The only thing you could do was give him a few scratches on his face and body. He refused to fight back, instead constantly evading attacks until taking advantage of your weakness to pin you down on the bed with both hands bound and placed over your head.
"It's only been two weeks since we've last seen each other and you're already so aggressive?" Sylus said. His muscular body covered yours, obscuring the light in the yurt.
"I don't know you!" You yelled furiously. Danger was all you felt from this man, the one who compelled you to stay. “Let me go! I don't want to be here! I don't want to be with you!”
Disappointment was clearly visible on Sylus's face. He looked at you for a long time, as if his expectations were all in vain. When you felt his hand loosen somewhat, you took the opportunity to break away from him. Sylus grasped your waist fiercely and threw you back into the bed. But this time, you were able to seize the dagger he held at his side.
Red.
Drop by drop, each scarlet and burning drop seeped from Sylus's chest, where the tip of the dagger had just penetrated. Blood ran down your quivering palm and dripped across your pale face. Sylus's flaming pupils gazed down upon you. Pain. Disappointment. His lips opened slightly but no words came out. Instead, you stammered and said:
“I… I…”
Sylus removed your shaking hand from the hilt of the dagger. The corner of his mouth twisted slightly. A bitter smile. 
“I didn't expect you to do that, again…”
He gripped the dagger tightly and pulled it out. Blood splashed on your torso and the dagger was thrown to the ground.
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Sylus had been looking for you for a long time.
He and you were not originally from this meadow. Both are from somewhere else. Another planet. And he was still seeking for you.
You sat on the bed, mindlessly dressed in spotless fresh apparel. You witnessed Sylus wipe blood from his exposed upper torso beneath the light. Your face turned crimson. You attempted to turn away, but your gaze remained fixed on the wound that was closing on his chest. Like a miracle.
"I won't die that easily." Sylus said. The towel in his hand was drenched with fresh blood. "I won't die without you remembering who I am."
Since encountering that gemstone, or the protocore fragment, you had lost all of your memories and been transported to the grassland. Sylus was also drawn here, with you. The person calling your name was him. The person searching for you everywhere was him. But the person who wounded him was you.
You felt a little guilty. Because Sylus's reaction when he met you again made you believe he had dreadful intentions for you. That made you fear and loathe him so much. Meanwhile, he had no idea that you had forgotten everything. He was quite miserable when he realized that you no longer remembered who he was.
"Sorry…" You murmured.
Sylus inhaled deeply. The wound you caused him was not life-threatening, but it was fairly torturous. He asked: 
"Now that you've heard my part of the story, what do you want to do next?"
You remained silent. There was a tint of confusion on your face. 
“Living a simple, free life in this grassland is not a bad idea.” Sylus said. “If you want, you can go anywhere. You can even leave the Kael tribe. But I'm determined to follow you no matter what. After all, you are my betrothed.”
"You do realize that I'm not your true betrothed, right?” You frowned. “Besides, don't you want to return to your real world?”
“Do you want to?”
A moment of silence passed between the two of you. You did not remember anything in that world to feel a single tint of nostalgia, but would choosing to stay here forever be the right thing?
“You don't have to answer right away.” Sylus saw your struggle. “I have a hunch that the gemstone in Tala is what we need to find. Perhaps if I manage to get it, your memories will return, and we'll be able to go back. Thus, you now have a better option than to traverse the grassland by yourself—which is to help me get the gem.”
You looked up at Sylus for a moment but still did not say a word. Everything he had told you was both strange and familiar at the same time. 
“There are still a few weeks left before the festival takes place. Perfect time for you to consider what you want to do next. Now, sleep."
Sylus said nothing more. He quietly spread a blanket on the ground, next to the bed where you were sitting, then lay down.
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In your temporary role as Sylus's betrothed, you reside in the Kael tribe. Before their formal marriage ceremony, two engaged individuals might share a home freely. However, Sylus appeared more aloof following the evening of your initial encounter, during which you stabbed him in the chest. It appeared as though he was allowing you more time to truly recall your previous connection before traveling to the grassland. 
Every day, Sylus would practice fighting with other men in the tribe.  You went to herd sheep and embroider with Tarna, a new acquaintance you made in the tribe. She showed you how to sew a little pouch for the person you loved. In the grassland, every time a woman set her eyes on a man, they would give him a pouch as a token of her love. 
"A lot of girls have wanted to give their pouches to Sylus since he came here!" Tarna said. She had just demonstrated to you a sample of the pouch she intended to present to her lover in another tribe. 
"Is that so?" You made a random comment.
“But they dare not do so, because Sylus already has a betrothed—you! Actually, the strongest warrior in the Kael tribe was someone else. Sylus had taken that position from the moment he arrived. Upon hearing of your marriage, he became enraged and declared that he already had a lover. He intended to call off the wedding. But after you appeared, Sylus didn't mention it anymore."
Tarna's yurt's curtain billowed in the wind. Before your eyes, the black and crimson threads mingled together. You took them off while your heart was so confused still. Who else would be the girl Sylus was always looking for; the girl he claimed to be his lover? Even though he never mentioned it, was it conceivable that before coming here, the memory you had lost was the love story with him?
In the afternoon, you found Sylus at the stables. You said you wanted to ride with him, but the fact was that you wanted to get away from here for a while. While riding on horseback, you seemed to remember something. 
On a deserted highway, Sylus and you, on his motorbike. The wind remained as severe as it was here.
The two of you stopped by the stream to rest for a while. Drops of cold water slid down Sylus's face, neck, and chest. He wiped his face, noticed you were gazing at him, then grinned.
"Your hair is all messed up," he remarked. "Let me fix it."
You were silent and simply sat with your back to Sylus. He meticulously unraveled and brushed your wind-tangled hair. His rough hands were clumsy and at times hurt your scalp. You caught two reflections in the water. His eyes were always compassionate towards you. These past days, he was never far away for you. Even if you were unable to recall what had happened before, in the little time you had been together, you had most likely learnt to trust him, and even developed some complicated feelings for him. 
“Sylus…” You spoke up, then hesitated again. 
“What's wrong, kitten?”
You exhaled. You had intended to ask him some questions earlier but were unsure of where to begin. So you redirected it to something else.
"I wonder, how many girls have their hair braided by you?"
Sylus snorted. His facial expression became more relaxed. He replied:
“Do I look like someone who braids women's hair very well? But I can practice every day, if you allow me.”
Your cheeks heated. You hastily covered it with both hands, although in Sylus's position, he wouldn't have seen your blushing face. You added:
“Tarna said that many girls in the tribe wanted to give you their pouches.”
“They should know that I already have a betrothed. I will only accept her pouch.”
Sylus stared at your reflections in the water. You did the same, and suddenly, your gazes met. You hesitantly looked aside, yet lips unable to conceal a smile. Your hand wandered to find the pouch you had just finished embroidering, which was hanging by your side. You had no intention of giving it to Sylus so soon, though.
In the following days, Sylus frequently departed early and returned after the sun had completely set. He competed and practiced hard for the forthcoming festival. You were also used to living here. If you could not retrieve your memories, staying here as a girl of the grassland would not be a terrible choice. Especially when you had Sylus.
Evenings on the grassland were often the time when tribe members gathered together around a large campfire. You found Sylus sitting alone in a far corner, watching young men and women dancing to the music. You came closer and sat down next to him. 
“How is life in the grassland? Do you like it?” He asked.
You raised your head to look at the stars. “It feels free.” 
Sylus grinned quietly beside you. The two of you did not say anything for a long time. Then, you broke the silence:
“What was my life like before?”
“Let's see… You're a very busy Hunter. You don't have time to sit and look at the stars or hang out with the sheep like in here. You always go headfirst into danger, working until you're weary every day. You always try to do your duties well... But sometimes, you would be like any other normal girl, craving a walk in the park full of red leaves, or delicious roasted chestnuts."
Hearing it, you could immediately see the cozy scenario. You inquired again:
“So what about you, Sylus? Were you... also by my side like this?”
Sylus gazed at you for a minute. The smile on his face was melancholy.
“I was afraid this place would separate you and me. But now, it brings you closer to me than ever. I can see you every day. I can share a yurt with you. There's more. I can call you my betrothed.”
Sylus remarked the words “my betrothed" in the language of the Kael tribe, halting briefly to examine your expression. Your face went crimson in the light of the fire. You turned fast away. 
“If you ask me, at this moment, I will tell you that I don't want to return to that world anymore," said Sylus.
Because in that place, you and Sylus fought against each other. In that place, Sylus and you could not have such simple moments like these.
“But I…” You responded reluctantly. “I want to go back… I want to reclaim my lost memories… It's not fair that you're the only one who remembers everything that happened between us…”
You slowly turned towards Sylus. When you looked into his deep eyes, you knew just what to do.
“I want to remember Sylus and how special he is to me. I want to reciprocate what you have done for me with full memories of us, not with just patched stories.”
You believed that throughout your time in this grassland, a bond that was hard to put into words had formed between Sylus and you. You wanted to get to know him in a formal way; the Sylus in the grassland, the Sylus in N109 Zone, each and every of Sylus's identities.
It seemed that he was also considering the possibilities that could happen between the two of you. 
“Understood.” He replied briefly. “I shall win that gem. For you.”
You grinned and grabbed Sylus's hand to join the couples dancing blissfully together. Under the moon and stars, beside the fire and in the laughter of everyone, Sylus and you were like a genuine couple.
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Sylus had become accustomed to sleeping on the floor since you arrived. As it was extremely cold at night, you might sometimes find him curled up in a corner. At this rate, he would undoubtedly become ill before reaching Tala. So you suggested:
“Sylus. Come here.” 
He widened his eyes as he watched you retreat deeper into the corner of the bed, leaving an empty spot for him.
"Unless you prefer to lie on the ground, of course." You shrugged, pretending to act like you did not care too much. 
Sylus's massive body quickly sank into the bed. He twisted his lips and responded, "And there I thought you would never ask."
You cracked a smile and cuddled yourself into the covers. That was your first time lying so close to Sylus. The warmth emanating from him offered you comfort and safety. He carried the aroma of grass, wind, and sunshine. You unintentionally drew closer to him. Your fingertips brushed his chest, where you had once stabbed him. That place was completely healed without a scar.
“I remember you said… ‘one more time’… Have I done the same thing before?” You lifted your eyes to gaze at Sylus. “Have I hurt you before?”
Sylus's half-closed eyes gradually opened wide. He looked at you. His breath warmed your cheeks. 
“You shot me. In the same spot.”
The fingers placed on Sylus's chest curled up. He grabbed them before you could withdraw your hand. He continued:
“If we go back there, there's a good chance you'll do the same thing and point your weapon against me. Do you truly want that to happen?”
"I…"
For a moment, the only sound was the wind flowing around the yurt. Sylus said:
“I really like the people in this grassland. They are always honest with each other. Love. Hatred. It would be great if we could be as straightforward as them.”
You closed your eyes tightly, then slowly opened them. You replied:
“Well then, from now on, let's be honest with each other.” 
“Huh? Do you have something to tell me?”
Sylus's eyes met yours, and that half-smile of his felt so much like a tease. You hesitated for a moment then decided to follow your heart:
“I… like having you by my side. Like these days. Even if we are no longer here and must face each other in the real world, I will still be me. You are still Sylus. The time spent here will not vanish, right? I guess I would still like to be close to you. Like this moment…”
You paused and gazed up at him for a long time. You could not recall the past, and the future was unknown. But you knew in that very moment, what you wanted was Sylus. That was all.
You slowly turned around and leaned against his dominant chest. You could hear your heart, Sylus's heart. They were beating at the same rhythm.
You started kissing him. And Sylus responded by dragging your entire body on top of him. Your kisses landed on his face, neck, and chest, particularly where you once injured him. Sylus's physique was sensitive to your every touch, yet he calmly observed what you desired to do to him, wearing his so distinctive alluring half-smile.
The endless night in the grassland suddenly became cold no longer.
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All of the tribes came to Tala for the celebration, which was filled with excitement. After several skirmishes amongst the warriors, Sylus emerged victorious, as predicted. Amid the cheers of congratulations from the tribes, you rushed to his side and were lifted into his arms. 
“Are you running to me so quickly in fear that another girl will give me her pouch?” Sylus taunted you by making your cheeks sparkle in the sunset.
“What are you dreaming about? I'm just glad that… we won the gem!”
Sylus carried you with one arm, the other hand at some point reached into your garment and took out the pouch embroidered with the image of a crow that you had made for him. He held it up high where everyone could see it and said to you:
“So this pouch isn't yours?”
“How did you?… Give it back to me!” You tried to reach for the pouch, only to lose your balance and leaned entirely on Sylus. 
“Why do you want it back? To give it to someone else?”
You blushed. The pouch was originally made for Sylus. Only him. But it was your intention to give it to him later, when you were certain of how you should name the feelings you had for him. Yet he found the pouch so quickly. He held it tightly in his palm and said:
“Whoever takes it, keeps it. It's mine now. Don't even dream of giving it to anyone else."
Sylus carried you in his arm to receive the prize. Your cheeks became scarlet, and you failed to say anything more the entire time. Following that, the largest festival on the grasslands took place. Sylus brought you to a secluded spot, holding the prize in his palm.
The sparkling ruby ​​radiated charm as if calling your name, and you knew it was time for you to return. Yet you were still attached to this place. Somewhere inside you, you were trying to cling to every blade of grass, every wind here. Were you ready to leave this free life, leave Sylus?
Sylus's soft fingers delicately brushed your cheek. He gently caressed your face. 
“Are you ready, kitten?” 
You met his eyes. 
“I still have one more thing to do before we go back…”
“What is it?”
You stood on tiptoe, one hand tugging Sylus's neck down close. You sealed his lips with a kiss. So deep. Time seemed to stop. The stars halted revolving. You just broke away from him to catch your breath before erasing the silver thread that existed between the two of you with another kiss that was a little more eager.
Your other hand rested on the ruby he was holding. Your fingers and Sylus's were interlaced with the gem in the center. You started to resonate with it. The gem heated up and gleamed. Soon, Sylus's warmth slowly left you.
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When you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in Sylus's armory in N109 Zone. 
A tear rolled down your cheek. The memories that the protocore fragment had stolen from you were all restored. You searched around.
“Sylus?”
He was not there. Where had he gone? Did he let go of your hand? Was he still in the grassland, living a free life with no attachment? Without you? That thought clenched your heart. Yet you felt the protocore fragment was very close. You followed its energy source to the exit.
Standing by the entrance was Sylus. The red gem was in his palm. Almost immediately, you ran to his side. Without waiting for any words to be spoken, you flung yourself into Sylus, arms tightly wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist. He was taken aback, but then began spinning around with you in his arms. The cold armory suddenly became so cozy.
You did not dare to believe that that dream of the grassland was a real thing, until you buried your face in Sylus's neck and inhaled the scent of grass, wind and sunshine. He whispered into your ear:
“Good to see you again, kitten.”
“It's good to see you again, Sylus…” You whispered, before squeezing him again. 
After that, Sylus put you down. His palm opened and the ruby was revealed:
“Here you go. Spare me the trouble and don’t casually resonate with it anymore.”
You held it tightly in your hand. The vast grassland and the days with Sylus were just like a dream. Time in this world remained constant. Yet your heart had changed.
You looked up at him and said:
“Sylus… What would happen after we leave the grassland?…”
“Perhaps people of the tribes would spread the story about the Kael warrior and his betrothed. They would say that the couple used the ruby to travel to another place, and lived happily ever after.”
You were amazed that Sylus could come up with such an answer. Nevertheless, it brought you contentment. You prompted another question:
“Say… What if we don't meet up because of my missions, or because we need something from each other? Basically, we can meet up just because…”
“We want to see each other?”
Surprise after surprise, you stared at him for a moment. Then you nodded. Sylus grinned. He took out a pouch with a crow embroidered clumsily on it.
“Since I have your most prized possession, I should return the favor, right?” Sylus replied. “We did agree to be honest with each other back in the grassland. It's my turn now.”
His massive hand reached out in front of you. He said:
“Red autumn leaves and roasted chestnuts. I can already imagine a walk in the park on a beautiful day like this. What do you think, kitten?"
You smiled and sheepishly held his hand. At that moment, a bright crimson glow surrounded your and his wrists. Sylus scowled as he noticed the Evol Linkage between the two of you again at this point.
“Hmmm. Should we postpone our outing?”
You shook your head. Your fingers were intertwined with his even tighter.
“Actually I know a place that offers a buy-one-get-one free deal!”
Sylus smiled. “Let's go then.”
Without waiting for him to ask for more, you drew him forward. You were once worried about your connection with him being exposed, and you never dared to admit how much you desired to be with him. Yet, at that moment, you were ready to tell the world the story of you and Sylus.
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hananoami · 2 months ago
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Summoning circles for the hunters pulling on 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝐼𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟. Good luck~! ✨✨✨✨
Who will you wish for?
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grandisknight · 2 months ago
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Sylus | Grassland Romance Kindled Showcase
Wander In Wonder Event | Twitter (X) Post
“Actions speak louder than words. I need to show them I already have a lover."
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ichigomaniac · 11 months ago
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Happy Birthday to my favorite menace!!
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cherimoyatea · 2 months ago
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Cuteness Overload 💗✨
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lalunanymph · 2 months ago
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MOONLIT DREAM
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SUMMARY a budding jade aficionado receives a personal lesson from her lover
WARNINGS established relationship, outdoor sex, boat!sex, blasphemy, sensory deprivation (use of blindfolds), sensory play (with a brush), dirty talk, petnames (little love, little one), soft!zayne, orgasm control, edging, begging, fingering, dirty talk, marking, pulling out (zayne cums in his own hand cause he's a mf gentleman like that), astra hate, allusions to theories of zayne's myth, mdni, 18+
DAWN SAYS FIRST ONE IS HEREEE istg this event has me by the THROAT I know it isn't very canon-compliant but I wanted to do something based on the vibes I got from the cards so I hope you all enjoy this! I will eventually cross-post this to a03 so if you want to follow me there, it's under the same username! <3
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─── SYLUS ⊱ XAVIER ⊱ RAFAYEL
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The art of jade carving was slowly dying out.
Touted as a precious stone the color of rich grass, its value was placed not in its glossy, green finish, but on the weight of meaning it carried.
To gift someone a jade pendant meant you wished luck, prosperity and success on them. Mothers would often lend their sons their necklaces hidden in the lapels of their hanfu as they took their official tests, while a groom’s parents would adorn their new daughter-in-law with jade jewelry to bestow upon the newlywed couple blessings of marital bliss and harmony. 
On nights like these, you liked to wander these grand, opulent hallways, lost in thought as the glimmering green gems twinkled from ceilings, pillars and statues.
The moon was bright tonight as you caught sight of Zayne, a royal court physician your family had connections to. 
(And who was also, your secret-not-so-secret lover). 
He was struggling under the weight of his documents, and you rushed forward to greet him, calling out his name. 
“Y/N—there you are,” he gave you a small smile, warmth twinkling behind his green eyes. The sheen of them reminded you of how jade shone. “What’re you doing up so late? The moon is bright tonight.”
You flushed, gathering yourself before you divulge your deepest thoughts to him. “I was up till yesterday night trying to read up on jade carving. Did you know the practice is diminishing?”
Zayne, though not much of a man of the arts, could concede on your astute observation. “I see,” he teased, “And you thought that by devouring clips of them, you might have a chance to save this dying art?” 
Used to his teasing, you huffed and wagged your finger. “At least I am dedicated to a cause that matters. Tell me, Mr. Zayne, don’t you have a passion you want to protect, too?”
At your question, his eyes softened.
“Perhaps.” He glanced at the number of documents in his hand. “I have some summons to work on. Maybe you might like to keep me company and tell me all about your discoveries of jade carving while I work?”
The offer sounded too good to resist. You followed him down the hallway and into the vacant space—an unoccupied room linking right to the court library. It was connected by a veranda, where the man-made lake ran around it, a shallow body of water meant for aesthetic purposes commissioned by the emperor himself. A pile of scrolls laid on the shiny, mahogany desk, and you realized too late that you were in his private office.
“Zayne—”
While the idea of spending more time with him was intriguing, you couldn't risk a court scandal by being seen with a man at such late hours. He didn’t stop you when you stood, though the look in his eyes held you back from leaving too soon.
“It is fine, Y/N. I have checked for guards and there are none at this hour. Besides, aren’t we both past the boundaries of such careless affection?”
He grabbed your hand, and you let him tug you closer. Sitting in his embrace, you relished in the secrecy of your meetings under the moon, this hidden fondness belonging only to you two. 
“I wish to hold you forever like this.” Zayne was not someone who waxed lyrical about his feelings, but tonight felt different.
Far more intimate.
His touch echoed with shades of absolute need when he tilted your face up, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered.
Intrigued, you let him take your hand, stepping out of the balcony and onto the connected veranda. You hadn’t immediately noticed a line of candles sat by the edge of the water, too caught up in his embrace. Zayne led you right to the makeshift dock where an ornate boat rocked in the man-made lake, stepping on its deck first before holding out a hand to you. 
Taking his familiar, calloused palm in yours, you lost your footing for a split second, tumbling right into his arms. 
“Oh—”
“I got you,” he murmured, righting you on your slippered-feet.
Zayne made sure you were alright and tightened his hand on yours, taking you into the anterior single cabin, where a smaller version of his desk stood, the light of the moon illuminating his warm cheeks.
“I thought we could spend some time here—away from any prying eyes.”
A smile spread across your face, delighting at this romantic and secluded initiative.
“I see. So, you have me trapped right in your hands while I ramble on about jade carving?”
You should have known your lover always had a special trick up his sleeve. He wasn’t called the brightest official without his uncanny knack for deciphering what it is people around him truly wanted.
“No.” 
He gestured for you to sit on the plush cushions, and removed a box from the side of the hull, opening it. Bringing out paint brushes, scrolls, newly minted jade pendants and glass bowls which he filled with water. Zayne let you touch them, enamored by your bright gaze and excitement.
"You... remembered?"
He smiled. "Of course, I did."
Touching your cheek, he said, "When your lover develops a fixation on something, you do your best to try and satisfy her."
Pleased and slightly flattered, you turned your attention to the rows of jade waiting for you.
“Are we sending our wishes to be carved on these pendants?” 
Fondly, he nodded.
“Yes. I thought this would be a great step in our courtship—to have our wishes bestowed on these jade jewels for us to wear. A memento of our love.”
You flashed him a smile so bright, it could rival the moon up above.
Sitting down next to him, Zayne watched as you dipped your brush in ink, slowly filling up the scroll with your earthly desires which the jade carver would put onto these pendants. 
I wish for Zayne to always be healthy and happy, you fluidly etched onto the paper. I wish for him to find success in court. To grow in his filial piety and strength. May he always be kind, courteous and brave.
Glancing at him, you were surprised to find him dozing off, elbow perched on the mahogany desk, head laid resting against a closed palm. The lights from the palace veranda and the moon in the sky played with the shadows on his face, making him look younger than his years of twenty-seven. The innocent curve of his brow, the slight parting of his thin lips, stirred a desire within you. 
A need to push him and see how much he could take before he broke.
Grinning to yourself, you picked up the prep calligraphy brush, still dripping with cool water, and gently ran the bristles over his lower lip. Zayne grunted in his doze, but didn’t stir, exhausted from his duties to pay your foolery any mind. You smirked, wondering if he would feel it when you dragged the brush down his jaw.
Still—nothing. 
Besides a furrow in his brow, Zayne remained locked in his slumber. A part of you wondered if the sensation felt akin to cool wind brushing his skin, and you decided to up the ante. 
Taking the brush down to his neck, this time you managed to garner a sweet, sweet visceral reaction from him. 
Zayne’s nose twitched, a sound of consternation and… desire?... leaving his lips. 
He sighed. You paused.
Tucking your lower lip in between your teeth, you took the brush now to the hollow dip of his collarbones. Another sigh, another baited breath.
But, he didn’t open his eyes.
Growing bolder, you glided the brush down the groove of his toned chest, mesmerized by the silvery trail of water left behind—a delicate mark of your teasing on his pale skin.
A part of you wanted to see what his entire body would look like ‘painted’ with these slick marks; your curiosity mingled with a stirring desire to have him completely under your spell. 
As you dragged the damp brush down to his chest, intent on finishing up your canvas for the night, you felt the gentle grasp of his hand around your wrist, stopping your descent from going any lower.
“I see I woke up at the wrong time,” he teased.
Whatever remained of his nightly exhaustion dissipated, his breathtaking green eyes gauging your reaction with the ghost of a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. 
Zayne’s skin and lips were tingling from the effects of your little ‘painting session’.
As much as the hunger inside of him was roaring to overcome you, he wanted to see what you would do next; how else you would surprise him. 
Deciding to tease him even more, you dropped the calligraphy brush, hearing it roll onto the barge’s floor somewhere under the desk. You slid your fingers across his hand, feeling his touch gliding on your open palm.
“Carving jade requires a clear mind,” you murmured, your fingertips breaching the hem of his ornate cuffs, touching the warm skin of his wrist underneath the clothes. “This is a test.”
Zayne was not expecting you to tighten your grip on his wrist, or for you to boldly drag him on top of you. 
His gasp brushed the tender shell of your ear, the heat of his body on top of yours made you shiver.
“How bold you are, little one,” your lover murmured, settling on his elbow to gaze down at you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “You are quite commendable indeed—getting a court official into such a… compromising position.”
The moon glowed, the broadness of his shoulders eclipsing its luminescent rays from fully spilling onto both your tangled bodies.
“I merely wanted to share my passions with a certain court official, but it appears he found the entire ordeal boring,” you quipped back, throwing in an eye roll for added effect. 
His thin lips twitched in amusement, the hand on your cheek moving down to briefly cup your jaw. “Alright, then. Why don’t we make your little session a bit more interesting for me?” 
Before you could ask, he took the discarded brush you had dropped, dipping it in a pot of water. Dabbing off the excess, he touched the firm tip to your cheek, his jade green eyes darkening with an unnamed emotion.
“You speak while I simply… listen... and return your little painting favor. Whoever can retain their composure without breaking first will win a month’s worth of rabbit candy.”
Not one to refute his games or back down from a dare, you raised a brow. “Are you questioning my resolve, Mr. Zayne?” 
He forced back a huff of laughter, trying to retain his equanimity. 
(Which was steadily chipping away the more you provoked him). 
Zayne hummed. “I do not question it. I want to test it.”
As he spoke, he glided the cool paintbrush from your cheek to jaw. “And to make this more fun for me since I have not heard of the intricacies of jade carving, I want to test your knowledge further with this—”
From his lapels, he removed a silk ribbon, one which you recognized to wrap up mooncake boxes. 
Flushing warmly from the implications of what he wanted to do next, you attempted to keep your voice steady, but failed.
“Playing dirty, Mr. Zayne? I never mistook you for such a bad sport.”
A glimmer of mischief ignited in his eyes, and he placed the paintbrush down next to your neck, coaxing you to raise your head so he could wrap the soft strip around your eyes.
“You are always testing my resolve. You should know I always repay the favor.” 
Despite the intensity of his request, a playful intimacy remained between the two of you. Whatever happened, you always trusted Zayne to put your wellbeing and dignity above everything else.
“Alright.” 
You raised your head, letting him tie the makeshift blindfold around your eyes. 
Hidden in darkness, you could only rely on your senses of touch and hearing to guide you on what was happening. You heard the rustle of the paintbrush picked up again by your ear, felt the damp tip on your jaw. Zayne glided the brush down the side of your neck, secretly enjoying your quiet gasp of surprise.
“Now, little one,” he hummed. “Tell me all about the intricacies of jade carving since you know them so very well.”
Your heart was pounding, but you managed to keep your calm when you recited the first fact to pop into your mind. 
“U-um… j-jades were known as the ‘essence of heaven and earth’.” Your gasp melted into a stifled moan at the sensation of his warm lips chasing after the cool trickles of water left behind.
“I see. Enlightening. Do tell me more.”
His husky voice brushed the shell of your ear, and your stomach tightened in knots. 
Unfair. Zayne was unfairly using your weakness against you.
He knew you were always sensitive to his kisses; his touch. 
A bead of clear water trickles down your neck, and you struggle to think of the next fact as his lips follow the winding trail the liquid carved along your skin, each kiss soft and deliberate.
“Jade has a sharp resonance and that is why it was often used as chimes—mhm.”
He nuzzled his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine from your skin. 
“I am listening,” he reassured, and you could imagine the smirk playing on his lips. “And I am interested. What else is there for me to learn about jade, little one?”
As you fought hard to recall another fact, your hands instinctively tightened, crumpling the soft material of his hanfu in your grasp. 
“With n-new drilling tools, jade can now be made in larger scales of production—”
The sensation of bristles on your skin interrupted your train of thought. Nothing could have prepared you for the sting of his teeth biting down on your neck. Zayne’s heated breath caressed your sensitive throat, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. 
“I think I have quite the knowledgeable grasp on this matter, little one.”
In a swift yet gentle motion, the blindfold melted off your eyes, and you caught Zayne gazing down at you affectionately. 
The damp brush and these damn games were discarded to the side in favor of him dragging you onto his lap, letting you sit astride him. 
Warmth suffused across your cheeks, and your entire body was tingling from the sensation of the rough bristles mingling with the contrasting tenderness of his lips on your skin. You felt the tension tightening in your belly, tensing the muscles on your thighs wrapped on either side of his waist.
Zayne took this opportunity to roam his hands across your back, down your sides—feeling the smoothness of your robe underneath his touch; the way you shivered as if caught in a chill.
“Are you afraid?” 
His gentle whisper was followed by a sweet kiss on your temple.
Yearning sparked from the tips of your fingers down to your toes.
You shook your head.
“No, Zayne.” 
Smiling to himself, Zayne cradled your head in his hands, nudging you further up the plush pillows he prepared for tonight. The sight of you, all sprawled out with the warm palace lights and the shining moon illuminating your flushed cheeks, looking far too ravishing for your own good filled his mind with a light-headed daze.
He couldn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 
A low grumble resonated from his chest, and he pressed his lips to your ear, delighting in your little shiver in response.
“You have to forgive me, little one. I cannot control myself when I am with you.”
His traced circles onto your cheek with his thumb, absorbing your hitched breath, the way your body shifted under his broader, muscular one. 
As he spoke, he planted a tender kiss on your cheek. 
“It is not my fault that someone gets distracted easily when carving intricate patterns… and appreciating the moon.” 
He pressed another soft kiss to your temple, worshiping you with his entire soul. 
Never mind that the bright lunar rays were burning into his skin. Or, he felt the unseeing eye studying his every move. 
All that mattered to him in this instant was you—your sounds, your sighs, the look of desire and love in your eyes. 
It was everything and more that Zayne could wish on his fallen luck. He wanted nothing more than to claim you under his god’s eye, defying logic and order to demonstrate his undying love for you. 
“Are you feeling what I am feeling as well, my little love?”
He looked to you for confirmation.
Consent.
You nodded wordlessly, threading your fingers through his hair.
“Yes, Zayne. I feel it.”
That was all the permission he needed. Zayne leaned in and captured your lips in a heated kiss, his desire for you pouring into every movement. Every breath. 
He needed to make you his completely; needed to love you with his entire being. 
His lips touched your ear again, his scratchy whisper igniting your desires. His nimble fingers, deft from years of practiced writing and studies, twined with yours, holding you impossibly close.
Another tender kiss right on your cheek. “Then we will just have to blame the craftsman… and the moon.”
Careful yet firm hands shed your robes from your body, the rocking boat adding momentum to your every movement. Zayne took his time to undress you, marveling as inches of flawless, moon-soaked skin appeared before his eyes. Taking his time to run his fingers over your body, he breathed you in, his eyes fluttering to half-mast as he savored this moment of peace. 
When your body was fully bared to him, he sucked in a deep breath.
“Beautiful,” he mumbled.
Zayne’s hands roamed your body with a newfound possessiveness, his expression a mix of tender yearning.
The sight itself was too much for you to bear; the shame, lust, and need coalescing together to bring you to your knees. 
You tugged him closer, unable to stand another minute apart from him. 
He fell right into your embrace, your eager hands undoing the loop of his hanfu, baring his full chest, dragging it down his shoulders. 
The act of undressing one another, meant for the marital doings of a husband and wife, felt natural when it came to Zayne.
Such love shared between the two of you sprung forth like a fountain, effortless in cascading your bodies in ebbs and flows. Zayne kissed you like you would disappear if he opened his eyes, his lips soft and tender against yours.
It made your heart full to bursting, overwhelmed by the love of it all.
Taking the lead, Zayne helped to reposition you on his lap, this new angle allowing you to control what came next.
The moon was his unwilling accomplice, painting you in the most alluring light. Its rays shone brightly, illuminating the brightness of your hair, your skin.
You gleamed like treasured jade right in his arms, and Zayne would never let you go again. Not in this life, or the next.
You were his to treasure, to hold. To cherish and love—his obedience to Astra be damned.
He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his arms; feeling you lift your hips and gingerly take him. The tightness of you, enveloping him slowly, drove him mad with need.
But, Zayne reined his lust in, focused on your pleasure. He would never do anything to hurt you; all he desired for was to see you happy. 
You are doing so well, he praised, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks. Good girl. That’s it—go on and make yourself feel good.
Emboldened by his praise, you braced your hands on his chest, wincing at the stretch. 
It wasn’t the first time you had taken him, your months of courtship blooming into a rapid need of each other.
But, it was the first time you were doing it so publicly, boldly declaring your claim on one another.
If anyone walked by, word would soon reach the wrong people of this escapade. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
You wanted Zayne, needed him like you needed air.
He was as enamored as you were, watching you take him. 
You were a vision above him, a moonlit dream he could only wish to hold onto for the rest of his life.
“You truly are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen,” he breathed, placing his palm on your cheek. The melted look of devotion in his eyes was second to how secure and safe he made you feel.
With Zayne, nothing was closed off or too much—everything was in order, right and sweet as it was meant to be.
Your head lolled back, the pleasure taking center stage to this act of consummation burning your veins.
“Zayne… you feel so good…”
The sound of his lover’s praise drove him into a frenzy, and he let his immaculate self-restraint slip; giving into the vulnerability. 
Zayne’s beautiful emerald eyes glimmered, taking in the heavenly sight of your smooth skin, your hard nipples carving a silhouette of erotic desire in the barely-lit night. 
He leaned up to gently run his tongue over them, trailing goosebumps across your chest. You moaned, lost in the haze of the pleasure, putty to his whims.
“I cannot believe you all mine…” His voice broke, trailing off into awe. 
Dedicated to showing you his entire devotion, Zayne let his innermost thoughts flow freely. 
“The way the moon shines upon you… the luster of your hair in the night… gods above, you feel like a fever dream, my love.”
A soft whimper left your kiss-swollen lips. Zayne ran his thumb over your lower lip. 
“Do you feel it?” His breath is heavy and desire-filled.
He could not wait to see you coming undone for him.
“How much do I belong to you?” Infused with yearning, his words made you tremble. “I am all yours tonight. I want to give you everything you desire.”
Zayne…
He grunted, the sound of his name on your lips a glimpse of heaven opening up.
Sweat beaded on his brow, a droplet trailing from between your breasts to roll down towards where you were connected.
Zayne halted its path with his tongue, lapping at it gently. He ran his tongue over the curve of your jaw, across your pulse point—stopping to nip and suck the tender flesh until he was sure the marks of his affection would bloom upon your skin.
The idea of anyone taking one look at you and immediately deducing you belonged to him drove him wild with desire.
He wanted to mark you, inside and out.
You belonged to him and no one else.
Not to the world, not to your people or your books.
But, to him.
And he belonged to you. 
The moon rays seemed to blister his skin, an angry curse waiting to consume him whole. But, Zayne didn’t care for the warning, making a mockery of his god by claiming his beloved right under His light.
He brought you in for a tender kiss, just as your walls shuddered around him. 
The romantic atmosphere, the way his tender gaze bore into your soul… was all too much for you to hold back.
But, before you could come undone, Zayne stilled your hips, a pinch on his brow.
He captured your lips in a heated kiss, one which silenced your moans and protests, giving you what you longed for.
Zayne picked up his pace, surprising you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“That look on your face,” he murmured huskily. “I love it. I love when you rely on me to come undone, my love.”
Your toes curled, his heated words making a shiver of need run down your spine.
“Zayne…”
Yes, my love. He moved his hand between your thighs, teasing you with delicate circles on your flushed nub.
What is it you desire?
“You.” 
He smirked, hearing the desire and need in your tone.
“You have me.”
The ball of heat tightening in your belly demanded to be released.
No… I need you in a different way.
In what way? He raised a brow, looking irresistibly smug. 
Your lover intended for you to say it out loud. To tell him explicitly what it is you needed.
Wetting your lips, you shifted your hips, feeling the head of his length graze your sweet spot.
You winced, and murmured, I need you to make me come undone. 
But, Zayne was adamant on drawing out your needs.
“Just a little longer,” he promised. “I swear it will feel better once it is drawn out.”
You trusted him, letting him take his time.
“You’re pleasing me so well tonight, my love,” he praised in a soft voice, the look of devotion in his eyes never wavering. “I think I can give you what you are yearning for…”
However, his promises came with a caveat: 
“Only if you beg for it nicely.”
A jolt of arousal sparked through your bloodstream, tightening your walls around him.
Zayne grunted, his composure hanging by a loose thread.
The circles on your clit grew sloppier, a sign of his unraveling.
You couldn’t hold back the need any longer, digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Please…” your thin whisper illuminated the dark interior of the barge. 
Please, Zayne. I need this… I need you…
Not one to push his beloved too hard, Zayne relented instantly; his chest swelling with pride at your obedient response.
Surging forward, he wrapped a hand around your waist, bringing you down onto the plush pillows as he took over.
Undulating his hips, he felt you falling apart underneath him—your toes curling, fingers lacing through his hair, tugging hard. 
Already coming undone? I can feel your control slipping, my love…
Yes, yes. You chanted, squeezing your eyes shut. 
Languidly nuzzling your neck, Zayne’s command was a heated whisper into your ear.
I know you need this—I can feel how much you need it. Let go, my love. 
It was the permission you needed. In an instant, you spilled over, following his command, always his obedient, sweet lover. 
He worked you through your contractions, feeling your entire body tensing under his touch. His cock splitting your walls over and over again drove you to the peak of your second release, and Zayne took pride in how you dug your heels into his lower back, crying out his name.
The official didn’t care who would be hearing; if the universe would conspire later to end him for his disobedience.
He couldn't think about anything else, not when you slumped into his arms, his voice a low hum; mumbling reassurances into the hollow of your throat. 
Careful to pull out and release into his own palm, Zayne didn’t care for your muffled outcry. He wouldn’t dare besmirch your body with his seed inside or out—prioritizing your dignity above all else.
The dark-haired man was careful to wipe his release on a spare silk handkerchief he brought onto the barge, taking another one to wipe the mess you made between your thighs.
Sated and glowing from your release, you let him work on you, quietly enjoying the devotion in his eyes and touch. 
Zayne’s smile was soft and hazy as he pulled you on top of him, letting your head rest on his chest. 
Longer, sturdier and calloused fingers traced patterns on your back, watching how the moon shone through the slanted windows, drawing shadows over the expanse of your skin.
His arms wrapped tightly around, pulling you deeper into his embrace, unwilling to let go. 
Outside the boat, a storm began to brew, dark clouds closing in and concealing the moon from sight. 
The balminess of the night gave way to a blessed, cooling drizzle, enveloping the boat much like his arms, keeping you safe and grounded. 
With the light of the moon extinguished, the glow of your smile became the brightest thing in the night as you leaned in, cradling his face, 
“Are you alright?” he asked softly. 
His love for you shone brighter than any celestial being could, limitless and profound, as he lost himself in the warmth of your touch.
“I am perfect.”
Not one to give him a moment of peace, you cheekily quipped:
"So, does this mean you are giving me a month's supply of rabbit candy?"
Zayne's eyes twinkled, and he chuckled, shaking his head at your question.
"If I recall," he turned you over, pinning you back onto the pillows, desire alighting his usually stoic and steady gaze.
"It was not I whose composure wavered, my little one."
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