synopsis. in the glow of a ruined painting, whispers of lemuria stir, and rafayel’s mark burns with a truth he refuses to name.
pairing. rafayel qi x lemurian! non-mc! reader
content. fem!reader, non-mc!reader, lemurian!reader, reincarnation!au, unrequited love (both rafayel and reader), a ton of angst, VERY SLOW slowburn (reader will appear later), hurt/no comfort (?), maybe ooc!rafayel, manipulative!emcee, emcee knows about the bond but doesn’t care, TW: SUICIDE (side characters)
word count. 1.3k
a/n. this is my first time writing for lads! this is also the first time i write something other than smut. i am a bit reluctant to post this, but my brain won’t shut up!! please let me know your thoughts!
next | series | main masterlist
“rafayeeel… hi!” emcee stepped into the studio with a sheepish grin plastered on her face, perfectly aware that the lemurian was going to scold her for her negligence.
but can she really be blamed? the life of a hunter is busy and unpredictable. she doesn’t have time for his childish antics.
“miss bodyguard, what brings you here? certainly not my messages, as you’ve ignored them all this time.”
rafayel didn’t miss a beat as he delivered his usual feisty lines, throwing them at emcee with his harmonious voice. he acknowledged her presence as soon as she treaded into the room, but did not turn around to greet her.
he was going to uphold a similar attitude as emcee and deprive her of his full attention, purely out of spite. thus, his gradient orbs remained fixated on the canvas before him, hand flawlessly dabbing the brush onto the bluish paint blob and shaping another foamy wave into the painting.
but the brush moved too easily. too fluidly. as if every stroke only sought to distract him from the pull deep inside his chest.
the bond mark burned faintly beneath his skin, pulsing in quiet resonance with her presence. every time she entered a room, it was the same — that faint ache that reminded him they were tied, that his heart was shackled.
and every time, the same truth dug its claws in deeper: she wasn’t his in this life.
“ah, rafayel, you know i’m busy and there’s been this case–”
“yeah, yeah, whatever. you’re just like a shiny lure — attracting all the work in your association.”
rafayel huffed and puffed his cheeks as he dipped his paintbrush into a muted shade of blue, standing his ground against her excuses. the high parts of the waves looked great, but the lower sections could use more contrast and–
“attracting lemuria too.”
huh?
an irritated laugh immediately followed her words. “haha, very funny.”
attracting lemuria as in attracting him? was emcee shamelessly pointing out how he was also captivated by her glimmer and fell prey like a dumb fish? annoyance creeped up the back of his neck, strangling him slightly.
rafayel tried his best to remain composed, but his precise hand betrayed him and trembled over the canvas.
making the darker depths of the ocean spill over the shinier peaks.
“you–”
“there’s a new case i need to investigate and it is connected to lemuria.”
that’s when rafayel finally turned away from the ruined painting. and looked at her fully.
“what?”
he slipped off his painting chair as fast as possible, making sure not to fall like he did during their first official meeting. his color palette remained nicely propped on one of the steps as rafayel finally made his way to the couch. to emcee.
“tell me what you know, cutie.”
his demeanor completely changed. his playful and sassy behaviour was nailed down and covered by a thick layer of seriousness and palpable interest.
everything related to lemuria did that to him.
because lemuria was not just a word, not just a place. it was a wound carved into the marrow of his being — a reminder of the things he’d lost and the chains he still carried. and hearing it fall from her lips, careless and unburdened, made his chest ache again.
as if the bond between them wanted to remind him: lemuria has no meaning for her.
activating a holographic screen on her hunter’s watch, emcee started explaining her new mission. “in the past two weeks, three esteemed and well-known public figures have taken their own lives. we suspect something similar to raymond’s case happened here as well.”
“and why’s that?”
“all of those victims had one thing in common. they all possessed something called lemuria’s blessings, conchs that were acquired during a private gathering of elites.”
rafayel leaned forward, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the flickering hologram. his expression softened for only a breath, but then he chuckled — brittle and sharp, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.
“lemuria’s blessings?”
“rings any bells?”
“never heard of that. no way they’re from lemuria.” he clicked his tongue, almost offended by such a claim. “it’s probably a hoax.”
“that’s what we thought too. but the conchs… the watch reacted like it did to raymond’s painting. your painting.”
rafayel tilted his head, strands of purple hair spilling like silk away from his forehead as he studied her serious expression, the slight amusement gone from his eyes.
“really now? are you sure you aren’t just letting your little hunter imagination run wild again?”
emcee shook her head firmly, fingers gliding over the holographic display to bring up the image of one of the conchs. its surface shimmered faintly, like moonlight bending under the ocean waters. the pattern was unusual, indeed, but… it wasn’t that special in rafayel’s eyes.
yet, next to it was a complex diagram, showcasing the reaction the watch had to the conch.
abnormal.
“this is serious, rafayel. i’ve never seen something like this. every victim claimed it made them feel whole… until they broke apart.”
rafayel’s gaze flickered briefly, betraying something he refused to name. whole. the word clung to him like a sea urchin. he tore his eyes away and let them fall back onto the ruined waves of his painting. a small, crooked smile stretched across his lips — forced, hostile.
to be whole... wasn’t that the lie his own soul whispered every time the bond throbbed beneath his ribs? that, if only she turned towards him, if only she chose him, he would finally be complete? the irony carved into him like an expert sculptor into marble.
“funny, isn’t it? people desperate to feel complete will chase anything, even if it kills them.”
emcee’s voice softened, guilt glimmering in her gaze. “rafayel…”
“don’t.” he cut her off too quickly, too sharply, all too familiar with her stance. “don’t look at me like that, cutie. you’ve got enough pity stored up for your cases. i don’t need any.”
the following silence between them was heavy, filled only by the faint hum of the rotating diagram. at last, emcee exhaled, pulling the screen away.
“i came here because i thought you might know something. lemuria is part of your world, not mine.”
emcee’s voice carried that quiet urgency she reserved for moments she couldn’t afford to lose. she reached forward, resting her palm briefly against the back of his hand before pulling away.
why?
did she do that inattentively or on purpose?
her touch seared him. not with heat, but with absence. because every time she pulled away, the mark flared, as if it mourned the distance. his chest ached so badly he almost pressed his hand into hers, almost begged her not to move. but he only smiled instead.
enduring.
“there’s going to be another high-end gathering soon. the owner — dean sullivan — flaunts these artifacts to his rich connections despite what happened to the other three. i need to investigate before someone else falls victim.”
her pause carried weight, the kind of silence that begged to be noticed.
“and i… need you to come with me.”
rafayel’s head tilted, his lips curving into that dangerous half-smile that was equal parts mischief and defense mechanism. “of course, you’re asking for help.”
what did he expect? for emcee to stop by for him? for her to understand the bond they share and reciprocate his feelings?
obviously not.
“don’t make me repeat it.” she muttered, her eyes sharp, her resolve unwavering. “i can’t explore those conchs alone. if something’s hidden inside them, you’d… you’d notice it. you see what others can’t.”
the compliment lanced straight through him, more cruel than kind. rafayel laughed again, softer this time, though his voice caught at the end.
“careful, cutie. flattery is an anchor, quite heavy. and it drags people down.”
but he didn’t refuse.
he couldn’t.
because when it came to emcee, he never really could.
and that was the tragedy — to carry lemuria’s fall in his veins, with a bond engraved into his very being. only to remain forever an afterthought in her story. unrequited, unseen, undone.
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Inside an Otoge: Mister Dragon, Let Me Love You - Chapter 1
Pairing: Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader
Series Masterlist
<<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>
Synopsis: A depressed, transmigrated fan dedicates their life worshipping their favorite character. (Because not everyone can be a badass like MC.)
Trigger Warnings: depression, mentions of self-harm and suicide attempts
Imagine being a depressed and overworked person, on the brink of throwing away your life, when your attempt is interrupted by an ad of Sylus' voice saying, "I adore you. There is no love purer than mine." Broken and alone, the words of a fictional character sends you to tears and you stop yourself from doing the unthinkable.
Finding hope again, if only in the brief moments spent playing a dating sim, you decided to give life a chance. You continued with the same routine, waking up, going to work, eating the same cheap meals from the convenience store and finding happiness with your favorite character. You used any spare money you had to buy Sylus merch and get all his cards. Life wasn't perfect, but you were content.
Until one day, you were sucked into a mysterious wormhole that transported you to a familiar, otherworldly room filled with rare metals, sparkling jewels and all sorts of weapons.
Lying on a bed of velvet is a back that is all too familiar.
You’ve taken over a hundred photos of that back and have memorized every vein, every muscle, even the way the spine dips oh so deliciously.
Is this heaven? Paradise?
A place that grants all your hedonistic desires?
Did God take pity on your pathetic existence and decided to give you a second chance?
No, this is probably a dream—”Ow!” You pinch yourself a little too hard. Nope, not a dream.
You glance at your hands and body, you are still you. In the game, this part should be when the Main Character attempts an assassination, but you aren’t the MC here. There is a chance—no, the probability of you dying here is as good as 99%. You have no powers, no system, skill or cheat to help you here.
But if you were going to die, at least you can go on your own terms.
“Um, excuse me? Hello?”
The dragon says nothing and you opt to crawl towards him. “Mister Dragon? Are you awake?” Knowing that death is almost certain, you decide to throw away all inhibitions and reach out to trace the curve of his spine. “Hello—!”
His cold, spiked tail wraps around your waist until the tip rests on your chest. You cannot help but gasp when your favorite turns to face you.
No 3D rendered model or painting from your world could capture even a tenth of the true thing's magnificence. Official sources said he was 6'2", but the real thing looks like he surpassed two meters. He towered over you completely. Maybe it isn’t height alone but his very aura that makes you feel so small.
He is so beautiful.
“My, what do we have here? A stray puppy?”
That voice is as smooth and deep as melted chocolate. You want to thank God, Buddha, Satan and all other powerful entities for letting you witness this moment.
He stares down at you, assessing everything. If you had known you’d end up here you would’ve taken a bath and worn something better.
“How odd. You have no magic power and you lack any muscle that most assassins and warriors have. It’s almost as if you’re an ordinary person.”
Okay, ouch. But he isn’t wrong.
You raise both hands. “You’re right, I’m as average as they come.”
“Then tell me what an ‘average’ citizen such as yourself wanted with me.”
You tilt your head in thought before answering, “I wanted to meet you.”
“Surely, you’re joking.”
“I’m perfectly serious.”
“You must take me for a fool.”
“No, I truly did want to meet you.”
“Why are you here? Surely, you didn’t come here to die.”
“No.” Though you were prepared. “I just wanted to see you.”
The fiend watches you closely. His eyes can pierce through any lie, but your gaze is as clear as a cloudless sky and without a trace of deception. He is unsure how to feel about this.
“You’re quite bold. But an ordinary person wanting to meet me for the sake of it feels too odd to be true. Quite stupid, even. Did it ever occur to you that I may not be so polite and just end up taking your heart?”
You raise your head, steady and unfearful as you ask, “Will taking my heart make you happy?”
You want to tell him that every part of you belongs to him now, but even you would cringe at such cheesiness. You decide to be normal about this. “If my organs will make you happy then take them, but I do have a request.” You wriggle closer. “When you take my heart, please look into my eyes until I die.”
You’ve met your favorite, your savior. In a way, Sylus gave you a second chance at life. It seemed only fitting to perish with him being the last thing you see.
Sylus stares at you with guarded curiosity. “I’ve never met someone so eager to die before. Either that or you are an excellent liar.” Some humans are trickier than others, they will say anything to get the upper hand.
“Don’t get cocky, human.” His tail tightens around you. “I don’t know what you’re planning but it’d be all too easy to kill you.”
He expects you to resist, to scream or cry or seduce him.
Instead, you cover your mouth, the edges curling upwards despite your efforts to appear serious. But it’s not your fault, he’s so cute when he tries to be menacing! You have no doubt that he’d just kill an NPC, but he will always be attractive to you, even as he threatens to rip your heart out.
“This is no laughing matter. Dragons are territorial, you should’ve thought twice before trespassing into my domain.”
“Sy—ahem, Mister Dragon, please remember my request when you end my life.”
“... I’m really going to do it.”
“I know!” You nod your head vigorously, the grin you try so hard to suppress looks ridiculous to him. Compared to throwing yourself in front of a train or overdosing on pills, this is your ideal way to die.
“...”
“...”
“... tsk.” He releases you and you can’t help but miss the feeling of his tail choking you. Oh, well.
“Mister Dragon?”
He returns to lying on his treasures, back turned away from you.
Not wanting him to think that you were going to backstab him, you get down on all fours and crawl towards the fancy bed. “Sir Dragon?”
He remains silent.
"Amazing, extraordinary, most handsome and venerable Lord Dragon—”
"Enough. Don't call me those embarrassing titles." He sighs and proceeds to give you his name. In the game's canon, the MC couldn't pronounce his name properly and called him Sylus instead. But the MC and Sylus have yet to meet.
Before you are two choices: 1) use his proper name, or 2) pretend that you can't pronounce it and ask to use "Sylus" instead. With the first option, there would be a connection between the two of you due to being the only person alive who knows his name. With the latter, you'd be stealing a defining moment for the heroine. Either way, the consequences will result in you forming a bond with Sylus.
The dragon waits for you to reply.
There is no need to complicate things, so you beam stupidly. "Your name is kind of hard to pronounce... can I just call you 'Sylus' instead?"
"Do what you want."
"Thanks."
“This is the part where you tell me your name.” He can’t believe he was teaching etiquette to a human.
“Er, right.” You give him your name. Though with that voice, he can call you whatever he wants.
“I won’t stop you so go back the way you came and leave me be.”
“I can’t.”
“This isn’t a request. Get out while I’m still being patient.”
“I mean, I literally can’t. I’m not from this place and I don’t know how to get back home.” To be frank, you have little interest in returning. Aside from the next LADS update, you aren’t going to miss anything. No friends, no family, only superiors who took advantage of you and a cold, barren apartment with a rent that was two months due.
Sylus sighs and rolls over. He lays an arm over his torso, looking gorgeous as he looks at you with eyes full of disdain. “Trying to get me to pity you, isn’t going to work.”
“I’m not.” You don’t need his or anybody else’s pity. You are simply tired, and you were sick of pretending that you aren’t. When Sylus does lose his temper, then at least you could be honest in your final moments.
CHAPTER 2: Enticing Offers
Main Masterlist
Edit: Had to tweak the part where Sylus gives his name to Y/N.
thanks to @/nyashykyunnie for her input for zayne and rafayel.
[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
sylus has spent hours mounting you, thrusting his cock in and out of you as you became a bit dazed in response. as you made your slow descent into madness, (your mind and body so drunk off the pleasure sylus had given you), you take a moment to admire this devastating man.
a light sheen of sweat was seen across his powerful body, letting out gasps and grunts of your name as his eyes hungrily look down at the area where he remained connected with you. just seeing the way you take in his cock so well was enough to make the onychinus leader tremble, the sheer amount of pleasure he felt coursing through his veins being immeasurable.
as if spurred on by your moans and the way your pretty, manicured nails grip at the sheets, sylus lets out a growl of your name, tossing one of your legs over his shoulders, pumping his cock with fervor in and out of your slick heat before stilling his hips completely just moments later, forcing your cunt to take in all he had to offer the moment he shoots his seed inside of you.
you moan at the sudden sensation of sylus filling you to the brim with his cum, feeling it mixing together with your own juices, leaving you panting. sylus places a chaste kiss against your cheek before landing against your body. he places the entirety of his weight on you, leaving you aching and breathless as you writhed beneath him.
“sy… please, you’re too heavy for this.”
his tired and weak chuckles were heard against your ear, and you felt the way he gently bites down against the lobe of your ear. “aw, my poor kitten, did i wear you out?”
you let out a huff in response, refusing to answer him, (yet the heat felt against your cheeks and the notable ache between your legs were more than enough proof of sylus’s relentless lovemaking). with a shake of his head, your lover gently holds down your hips before pulling out of you, earning a deep sigh from you.
knowing that you had been thoroughly rendered unable to walk by him, sylus gently takes you into his embrace, humming as he saunters toward your shared bathroom. your eyes take in the marble onyx tub, watching as sylus turns on the faucet, filling it with hot water before pouring a bottle of your favorite scented bubbles into the mix.
once your bath was prepared, sylus gently places you inside of the tub, earning a content purr from you as you were surrounded by the waters. once you were settled inside, sylus joins you, allowing your back to meet with his chest when his arms automatically wrapped around your front. you giggle upon seeing the bath waters fall onto the marble floors with sylus’s added weight. letting out a rich chuckle of your name, sylus busies himself with washing your hair, threading his fingers through them as he massages your scalp in the process.
once your hair was washed and thoroughly rinsed, sylus helps you further by spreading your legs, earning a soft moan from you when you felt his thick fingers exploring the depths of your core, cleaning you of the respective evidence of yours and sylus’s release. your meek whimpers fill at the air, feeling sylus lean down to gently bite down against your shoulder.
“hmph, the sounds you’re making are truly difficult to ignore. you’re making it hard to resist you, but i know how tired you must feel… so i’ll behave.” he admits with a grunt, with you visibly relaxing in his embrace, allowing your lover to further spoil you with his massages as he spends a copious amount of time in the bathtub with you.
zayne was simply admiring the way you gently rode him, gasping as your legs trembled in response to each painstaking thrust made against his cock. it takes him a herculean effort not to climax with you riding him so passionately that you were practically bouncing up and down his aching shaft.
filled with a desperation to be the sole cause of your release, zayne places both his hands on your hips, purposely speeding up your bounces against his cock. your eyes end up rolling to the back of your head, the pleasure almost too intense for you to handle. your back arches in response to the way zayne slams you up and down his dick, with the palm of your hands settled on his chest to help you with maintaining your balance.
“you are… magnificent. i will never get enough of you…” zayne admits to you in a breathless whisper, making you gasp as your walls sweetly clench around zayne’s cock. as your cunt grips at his dick in a vice grip, you felt every pulsating vein from zayne, making the doctor grunt before thrusting his hips upwards, his cock twitching wildly inside of you before completely releasing himself into you. your walls were coated in white, making you moan as you felt your respective releases flowing out of you and down the length of zayne’s softening cock.
with you becoming out of breath coupled along with the ache you felt all across your body, zayne’s eyes go wide before quickly pulling himself out of you. you were left moaning at the sudden loss of him, yet zayne was too distracted with his desires to take care of you for you to notice.
“you shouldn’t have exerted yourself. despite how-“ zayne cuts himself off with a cough, “despite how pleasurable it was for both of us, i should have known better than to keep pushing you. and for that i’m sorry.”
“it’s okay, z-zayne. i… it felt really good. i don’t regret it at all.” you reassure your beloved with a satisfied smile on your face, making the cardiac surgeon blush an even deeper shade of red.
zayne lets out another cough, flushing a noticeably in response when he leans closer to you, giving your lips a quick kiss before hurriedly disappearing into your shared bathroom. in his rush, zayne had forgotten to put on some clothes, giving you the perfect view of his backside as you grinned at the sight.
the sounds of running water were all you could hear, and it wasn’t until several minutes later that zayne reappears into the bedroom, picking up your pliant form with ease before taking you into the master bathroom with him. with your arms wrapped around his neck, you watch as he carefully settles you within the bathtub. the lingering scent of lavender fills your senses, and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a moan the moment you felt the warm waters surrounding your aching body.
with you practically melting into the bathtub, zayne places one last kiss against your hair. “enjoy your bath, my love. and i’ll return once everything is ready for you.”
you frown, wanting him to join you, too. but his sudden departure from the bathroom makes you pout a bit. but alas, your lover had always been like this-
becoming a complete and total mother hen when it came to caring for you. knowing it was best to not argue with zayne when he became so passionate, you decided to wash yourself, cleansing your body of the sweat and fluids that remained as evidence of your copulation just moments ago.
losing track of time of how long you had been in the bath, you end up feeling a bit startled when zayne reappears. he smiles back at you, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and shirt. with a plush towel in hand, zayne sweetly beckons at you to stand up for him, allowing him to dry you completely as he begins to drain the bathtub of the water.
once he was satisfied, your lover wraps you in the towel and carries you out of the tub. not allowing you to lift even a single finger, zayne rids your damp body of the towel, choosing instead to don your form in a comfortable robe before carrying you once more. with you clinging to him, you gently place kisses against his jawline, eyes trailing toward your shared bed when you realize that zayne had completely changed the sheets and blankets. you become flustered at this fact, feeling embarrassed at being the reason why zayne had switched out the bedding with something fresh and new.
zayne senses your embarrassment, yet doesn’t comment on it. as he settles himself into bed with you, you saw that he had another surprise up his sleeve. watching him with love filled in your gaze, you notice the way he brings over a tray filled with your favorite foods over from the nightstand, picking up one of the utensils as he cuts a piece of it off for you, hand feeding you the morsel as you let out a dreamy sigh, feeling overjoyed that you were able to call the king of aftercare as your own.
xavier didn’t hold back when it came to his quick pounds deep inside of you, holding up your leg as he kept fucking himself against you. your mind was void of all coherent thoughts, becoming filled with the delicious friction caused by xavier’s cock nestled so deeply within you.
your moans and constant cries of his name makes a surge of confidence go through him. your sweet mewls and the sensation of your walls gripping him so tightly was enough to make the young hunter lose his damn mind. his eyes had long been eclipsed by darkness as evidence of the way they had remained dilated at the mere sight of you. there was something achingly addicting to the sensation of your walls squelching in response to each of his heated thrusts, filling him with the need to make you lose all control for him.
“hah… fuck… you’re squeezing me so much…! you’re practically milking me.”
the pleasured phrases falling from xavier’s lips makes you cry out even further, sobbing into your pillow while he slams his hips even deeper into you. the man had become obsessed with having your walls gripping him oh so tightly, and he briefly wondered if he could make you spill your juices onto him.
his darkened eyes focus on your swollen bundle of nerves, watching the way your pretty pussy practically devours his cock. with a grunt of your name, xavier reaches forward to give your swollen pearl a gentle pinch, earning a gasp from you. he was relentless in taking you now, gently rolling your swollen clit between his fingers while continuing his movements. with his cock continuously disappearing and reappearing, you lost the last bit of your control, letting out a hiss as you came.
feeling the increase in moisture surrounding his already sensitive cock, xavier stills his hips with his eyes clenched shut, already shooting the rest of his seed deep inside of your womb with his balls tightening in response. a low string of curses manages to escape from xavier, basking in the sensation of his cock emptying everything that it had as he kept on pumping his seed inside of you.
by the end of it all, you were too drunk and exhausted to say a single word, eyes going a little hazy. xavier wasn’t faring any better, but manages to pull out of you all the same.
you had your eyes closed, ready to doze off when you felt a strong hand suddenly spread your legs. a soft whine escapes from you, and you manage to look down to see xavier himself placing his face between your legs. the sensation of his wet tongue cleaning at your entrance makes you shiver, yet you lost all the energy to protest. instead, you allow xavier to spread your legs even further for him, placing your hand against his golden strands of hair to help with guiding him against you as he utilizes his hot mouth alone for the sole purpose of cleaning you.
not wishing to forget your every expression, rafayel decided to make love to you in the missionary position. with his hair covering his face in tune to his every thrusts, the young artist couldn’t help but admire just how responsive you were to his every touch.
each time he rams his cock back inside of you, your breasts would bounce beautifully, your gaze becoming even more filled with lust and adoration for him.
your moans were nothing short of being absolute music to his ears, and he basked in the way he was able to play your body like a symphony, using his cock for the purpose of your pleasure alone.
the mere sight of your gorgeous face twisted in absolute and utter pleasure was almost too much for rafayel to bear, making him insane as he leans down to capture your hardened nipples within his hot mouth. the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe up your aching breasts makes you gasp, hands already delving into his soft strands of hair. you lightly pull against those strands, earning a grunt from him as he began to shamelessly suckle on your nipples.
your climax was quickly approaching, and the moment rafayel felt your walls clenching around him so tightly did he lose all sense of control. stilling his hips, he pumps the rest of his seed inside of you, fully emptying himself with a low hiss of your name.
you were practically sobbing beneath him, hands clenching at the ruined sheets below you as you took in all that he had to offer. the lemurian’s gaze looks down at the spot where you remained connected to him, becoming filled with pride at just how well you managed to take him in.
“such a good girl for me… you’re my sole princess.” rafayel admits to you with a soft smile, pressing lingering kisses against your damp skin. when both of your respective releases simmers down to a manageable level, rafayel remains buried deep inside of you.
knowing that your body was aching, he spends a good amount of time massaging your shoulders and hips, applying the right amount of pressure on them. still feeling a bit naughty, the artist ends up wrapping his arms beneath your back, picking up your form, ensuring that your heaving breasts were settled before him as he spends yet another good chunk of time littering them with kisses all while gently sucking on your sensitive nipples.
he continues to chuckle at how responsive you still were, finally ceasing with his almost hedonistic massages against your skin. realizing just how tired you were when you let out a yawn, rafayel makes sure his limp cock was still connected to your slick walls (despite how much of a challenge it was to place you both beneath the covers without breaking such an intimate contact.)
seeing the way your lover struggled makes you giggle weakly in response, earning a playful glare from him that was certainly not a pout. you listen as rafayel huffs before placing your face within his naked chest after managing to pull the comforter over both your forms.
“sleep, my princess, and i’ll be sure to treat you to something nice when morning comes.”
his gentle voice was all the urging you needed to succumb to your exhaustion, allowing your eyelids to grow heavier before falling into a deep slumber…
end notes: it is so easy to thirst for the lads boys and i am just so shameless at this point 🫠
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
Pairing: Sea God Rafayel x fem!OC (Lemurian Priestess), Rafayel x non-MC | Yandere!Rafayel
🔞 Tags & warnings: Yandere!Rafayel, Dark!Rafayel, Sea God Rafayel, Lemurian non-mc, Priestess non-mc, Arranged Marriage, Forced Relationship, Power Imbalance, Dub-con / Non-con elements, Ritual Sex, Monster Fucker (Mermaid Anatomy/Xenophilia), Mating Cycles / Rut / Heat, Breeding Kink (implied), Knotting, Marking & Biting, Underwater Sex, Sadomasochism, Degradation, Humiliation, Gaslighting, Psychological Manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, Mind Break, Heavy Angst, Tragedy, "Redemption is not an option", Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Summary:
"We could have been happy."
"Happiness is overrated."
"Then what do you want?"
"To watch you suffer for your sins."
The sea remembers everything. The tides and the currents. The storms and the calm. Love and betrayal. And above all, it remembers the terrifying obsession between a Sea God and his faithful priestess.
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Authors Note: Totally self indulgent -not read-proofed- and cause I've shared with this wonderful community I was craving some angst and y'all answered with "do it for the vine". Who am I to say no, right? Also, I gotta keep it clear: Reader has no skin color defined, no hair color defined. The images I used for the headboard are for aesthetics purposes only. Also -> MDNI
-> Summary: You're a successfully crime affiliated pilot and part-time femme fatale. Everything was fine, you had your work, got your money, had even friends, until that damn fucker showed up again. He was now, for some reason, obsessed with you. Some secrets must stay dead for good.
-> Tags: Non-mc Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader, Femme Fatale, Reader is badass in general, Strong Female Lead, Simone is reader best friend and works for Sylus here as well, Non-cannon, Guns, Violence, Drug dealing, Explosions, Smut, Jealousy, Traumatic Past Events, Gaslighting, Caleb is a little shit when he shows up
-> Pairing: Sylus x Reader | Caleb x Reader
-> Tracklist: Secrets and Lies - Ruelle
Salvatore - Lana Del Rey
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Tip Jar
“Jesus fucking christ, Simone. I’m going to need something heavy in alcohol to drink and might end up smoking a bit too.” You whispered while she kept working over your hair, making it voluminous, shiny, using all in her power to make you the most attractive woman that would ever land a foot in that hall.
“Stop being so dramatic. Come on, I finished your hair, turn around, let's put some makeup there. I want to look at you and fall in love instantly.” the brunette turned your chair around so she could grab her accessories and makeup.
“Again?” you quip, a smirk forming in your lips while you look at your friend moving around the luxurious room.
“Yeah yeah, quiet now, Aphrodite.”
While Simone started working on a way to make you more flashy than you already are —which would be something to admire, since you already were too flashy just counting with your dress and jewelry— you sighed, looking at your nails. Perfect manicured blood red nails, your hair was loose, but full of small adornments like pearls that simulated a gentle wave, like a mermaid princess.
You looked around the room, Sylus outdid himself this time, you had a master suit in the best hotel of Skyhaven. Allegedly you were this far from home for a very simple reason: The Farspace Fleet seemed to be mingled with EVER, a new Colonel had recently taken over the position and there was already some noise regarding internal conflicts. You had to learn who he was and what was going on inside the Farspace Fleet, if it was truly in EVER hands and if it was, what were they planning to do now.
“Beautiful” Simone spoke gently, adjusting a rebel lock of your hair, a sweet smile playing in her face. “Now up you go, I’ll grab the dress you’ll be using tonight. Remember your role?” she asked and moved directly to the suitcase she had brought. Gathering a wonderful strapless red dress, she came back to where you were standing now, helping you with the cloth article.
“Yeah yeah. Everything is under control, ma’am. You’re more bossy than bossman.” you scoffed, whining from the strength she used to pull your corset.
“Must be because if I’m not paranoid because of these little details, you’ll just be cursing around and walking like a low level gangster.” another pull and Simone finally seemed satisfied.
“Done, look how pretty you are. Stunning. You’re going to steal the show and the new Fleet Space Colonel will be drooling for you in a second. Might just say anything you want to hear without you even trying.” she smiled, hands on her hips.
Amused you chuckled, dismissing her and getting all the weapons you might need for the party. A pocket pistol, a knife, poison, all the important items a girl needed if she was going to enjoy her night out.
—
As you walked through the hall, you could feel all the eyes set on you, your skin being devoured by older and younger males equal. The type of attention you’re used to and could even say you enjoyed, the feeling of these men thinking you were just a pretty face and pretty body for their pleasure and only when you showed how sharp were your claws, they would respect you, but then again… It was probably too late for the unfortunate soul.
You sat comfortably at the table reserved under your —fake surname. When a waiter came by offering you champagne, you couldn’t refuse, a rehearsed sweet smile playing in your lips while you thanked him politely, discreetly looking at the rest of the party when your eyes found someone very familiar.
Maybe ‘two someones’ worked better. Sylus was going to be overjoyed when he learned that his dear miss hunter was at a party in Skyheaven. The problem wasn’t her per se, but the man that was beside her holding a soft expression when he looked at the woman by his side. A man that should be dead.
Your heart dropped that moment and you forgot where you were. Caleb was right in front of you. The same Caleb, the same asshole who played with your feelings during your college days back in DAA, the same one who used to make you moan and cum to your body’s limit, fucked you dumb until you passed out. The same Caleb who wouldn’t waste a single moment longer with you in case his sweet childhood friend had sent him a message, the same man who broke your heart when you finally accepted that you were just a substitute for what he couldn’t achieve with his dear and lovely miss hunter. The same one who broke your heart a second time when you found out he died in an explosion a year ago.
You wanted to go to him, throw him against the wall and slap his face, punch him even, but you knew better. You had a mission and the deadman wouldn’t be an obstacle in your mission, but when you were finished, you would hunt him down.
The host got on the stage and gave the audience a big smile. He started showering praises to all of the military there united, how important they were to Skyhaven, how they kept everything safe and a bunch more of other so-called important chores they’ve done protecting their nation. You would be bored if your brain weren’t boiling in rage with a certain man's presence.
The host called a few names to the stage and presented them with a prize and a big thank you from all the nation and finally, finally, the moment you were expecting came. He called for the newest Colonel from the Farspace Fleet. Caleb.
You sucked a sharp breath, not able to hold your expression anymore, your whole body went stiff, you felt the color drain from your face and there he was. Those violet eyes scanning the crowd and setting on you, burning in a way you could have only imagined.
—
There she was. The object of his adoration, his dear miss assassin. Dressed like a Goddess herself, he spoke rehearsed words while his gaze never left your form, hungry in his eyes, the clear desire to undress you and leave love bites all over so others could see to whom you belonged.
You looked spooked, worried even and that was cute. He would give you that, no matter what you did, you always looked so cute doing it, so naive. Caleb was a cruel man in a way, he was bored during his college days until he met you. You became the center of his world —he, of course, still loved his pipsqueak very dearly, that would never change, he still should protect her from the whole world… but with you…
Ah, with you.
It was so different. He enjoyed seeing you so pink from his complements and when you cried because you thought he didn’t love you? Oh, that was so fulfilling. He would feel bad for leaving you alone sometimes, but you were his little secret, no one should ever know how you sounded, how you looked under him and every time he was seen with someone, his friends would just want to know everything about that person. They didn’t leave him alone when they saw a picture of his pipsqueak, how would they behave if they knew he was dating the most beautiful girl from the whole DAA?
He never expected you had the balls to push him away and simply ignored all of his calls, another moment he remembered that you had your credit. So fierce, so beautiful, so strong. His dear pumpkin was everything a man could ever want and more, but Caleb could only lament how things were in the end, since the explosion and EVER took all of his life control, now he had to wait in the shadows, never going after what he truly wanted unless he was ready to put a target on his loved ones’ backs.
The colonel finished his speech, thanking the host and all the present there, he left the stage, an easy smile displayed in his lips. He kissed his pipsqueak on the forehead and moved to you.
—
The music started slowly, that was the moment in the night you were expected to be dancing with the new Colonel and it seemed he was just going to invite you to do exactly what you were supposed to.
You got up, licking your lips, the waterproof and 24h stay lipstick proving its value when there was nothing out of the place. You turned around, moving before Caleb could close the distance, you weren’t prepared for that meeting, not yet, so you did what you needed to do. You ran.
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hi hi!! i was curious if you wrote for non mc or not? if yes then i would absolutely love to read ur thoughts abt how non mc's first meeting with jeremiah would go since we know he was mc's best friend back in philos ☺️ if not then that's obv okay and u can feel free to ignore my request, but also pls know that i love mc and in no way do i think she's not relatable (she's literally us..) or do i see her as a pick me. (im only saying all of this cuz non-mc readers do have a reputation of hating on mc ) love ur writings btw!!!!
the answer is yes! and ambiguous = up to interpretation too!
i don't mind if you don't find her relatable, for the love of god haha! everyone is different and that's perfectly fine. the harm comes (for me) at the mischaracterisation of lads! mc. because i am a fan of hers, i get defensive haha. my apologies if that intimidated you! please don't feel afraid to do ask for non-mc requests, just know that lads! mc (full appointed name: Choi Meihui • Mei) will be portrayed with the game's personality and not the fandoms.
sorry for the rant, back to your request!
i was not sure what you wanted exactly, if you wanted non-mc to meet a friend or a potential love interest in jeremiah, or if that was supposed to be in the academy back in philos or in modern-days, so i wrote non-specified headcanons! i'm not really familiar with xavier's story so please bare with me and feel free to ask for a snippet/drabble if that wasn't what you had in mind! ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა
you were just transferred to the new academy. you were excited to start your education and prepare for the future at any given moment.
you made some friends in your class that you can hang out with during breaks, and even walk to classes with. you were laughing with them at something [friend] said.
that was when you met jeremiah for the first time.
you were walking down the hallway, ready to go to the courtyard with a book clutched to your hands when you were manhandled into a one-armed embrace.
"she is my junior!" a senior you have never met before declared proudly with a arm around your shoulder, and you blinked in pure disbelief as you tried to understand what was going on.
choi meihui, your xuéjiě and kind guide to the academy, looked pleasantly surprised. she smiled at you warmly but with a confused tilt of her head. the tall boy besides her gave out a scoff, but he was polite enough to give you a note and a pointed stare to your supposed senior.
“i am?” you asked perplexed, wide eyes looking at him like he sprouted mountain antlers.
jeremiah flashed you a big bright smile. “of course this is —” he froze, and after a bit with meihui looking expectantly for the unnecessary introduction, you took a small pity to the older boy.
you flashed a smile at them, introducing yourself with your name and surname. “i'm his junior, pleased to meet you,” you bowed politely.
xavier and meihui bowed politely too, the former's expression softening to a genuine kind one. “you too, i hope you two can have a nice day ahead.”
meihui smiled at you, “and don't forget, ask me if you're ever confused about something! i'm happy to help!”
“mm!” you nodded, waving at them with a smile. you continued doing so pleasantly, before you dropped all niceties and formalities, turning to face your senior with a intimidating upset expression, annoyance and vengeance shining through your eyes.
“your junior, huh?” you smiled dangerously, taking a step forward, feeling a rush of satisfaction as the older male took a step back with a nervous stuttered chuckle. “may i know my dear senior's name? i think my senior would be more than happy to listen to my problems... right?”
jeremiah looked abnormally red, laughing nervously. “well you see — bye!” he ran like the devil was on his heels, and you could feel a migraine coming just by that simple encounter.
Inside an Otoge: Mister Dragon, Let Me Love You - Chapter 6
Pairing: Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader
a/n: I know, I know—it's been 800 years and the jellyfish are walking naked—but before you throw rocks at me, I have a very good reason for not updating in so long; two words: Invincible hole. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!
edit: I'm also sorry if I haven't replied to your comments/replies in the previous chapters, it's hard navigating Tumblr replies 🤧
CHAPTER 5 | Series Masterlist
<<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>
You don’t think you were an envious person. You aren’t completely immune to feelings of inadequacy, but you didn’t spend a lot of time comparing yourself to others. Except for special cases.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Sylus says.
He brought you to a tavern, in a different city this time, brighter and looking more like a Disney theme park than medieval Gotham. Despite his mild grumpiness when the sun is out, Sylus is quite fond of walking around outside, provided that it was the afternoon or near the evening. Before you arrived, he’d been alone, stuck in that sad cave in the Abyss for over a thousand years. Neither of you understood how you managed to free him, but all that matters to Sylus now is that he can stretch his wings whenever he wants—and that he can drag you along. For this trip, you wore a period-appropriate outfit he bought for you, but he didn’t bother putting on anything, saying that his illusion magic would be enough.
When you don’t reply, he calls out your name again.
“What?” You turn away from the slice of cake in front of you.
He raises an eyebrow. “It has been fifteen minutes since you last spoke, and you’re not eating like it’s your last meal today.”
He’s teasing you but you only grin as you pick up your fork. “I was thinking.”
“I gathered as much.”
“Sylus.”
He hums, pouring himself another cup of tea.
“Tell me, what do you think of a person who gets jealous of someone who is not real?”
“What nonsense are you spouting now?”
“You see, even from a young age I liked to read books, some were fairytales and love stories, others were meant to scare me or take me into a journey beyond the stars. At some point, I developed… affection for certain characters.”
“Affection? Are you speaking of romantic love?”
You smile. “Something like that—rather than outright love love, I think it’d be fairer to call it infatuation. It’s silly. I became obsessed with these figures of imagination to the point that I would get angry when they fell in love with other characters.”
You expect him to say something mocking, but instead, he drops a sugar cube into his cup and says, “I don’t think it’s silly.”
“That’s surprising. Most people would call me crazy, after all, what’s more insane than loving something that doesn’t exist?”
“I’m not most people. Desire is simple, humans make it more complicated than it needs to be. It’s far more foolish to lie to ourselves about what we feel.” He shrugs.
“You’re right, it is simple,” you laugh wryly and poke the strawberry on top of your cake.
He watches you. He then sets down his cup and looks at the street. “Fictional people aside, have you experienced true love?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“Shocked?”
“Yes.” He meets your gaze. “You struck me as a hopeless romantic.”
You laugh for real this time. “It’s precisely because I am a hopeless romantic that I have never experienced that kind of love.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I told you, I like to read. Love that transcends time and space is a common theme for a lot of books.” You stab the cake. You spent most of your life admiring the stars so now, no earthly gem can ever compare. “One would have a higher chance of meeting a mythological creature than finding true love.”
He chuckles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Well, from what you’ve told me about your reality, don’t I qualify as a mythological creature?”
The cake crumbles and you push the pieces apart. “That’s true.”
Ruby eyes fall over to your sulking form.
Sylus clears his throat and looks at the stores. “It’s truly fascinating how much this place has changed since I last remembered.”
Your ears perk up. Since you’ve met him, Sylus has barely shared anything about his childhood or his life a thousand years ago.
“What was it like?” You ask.
A little girl passes by the street with what looks to be her grandfather; her twintails bob with each step she takes. Her head turns and she sees Sylus. Without missing a beat, she offers a toothy grin and waves her arm in greeting.
Sylus weakly raises his hand, the faintest smile evident on his lips.
Satisfied, the girl continues dragging her grandfather around the town.
“It was a little village, barely big enough to house more than maybe 300 people. There used to be a town square where this very tavern stands.” There’s a far off look in his eyes, mind somewhere you cannot see.
Heart aching, you say playfully: “I bet you were a cute kid.”
He snorts. “I was small.”
“I have a hard time picturing that.” The Sylus you came to know is a big guy, not just physically, his presence has a way of enveloping you. When he’s in a room with you, you can’t help but look at him.
“I was a tiny thing,” he continues, “it was ridiculous, really, even the human children were taller than me. My horns and tail and wings used to be much bigger than my body. They feared me, but because I was smaller they still had the guts to throw rocks.”
You hum, watching him reminisce.
After a while, he exhales and looks at you. “Anyway, is there anything you’d like to do today?”
“I’m going for a job search.”
“...what?”
“You’re already letting me live with you for free, not to mention paying for my meals, I figured it’s about time I earn my own money.” You sip on your tea.
“You don’t have to do that.”
You hated your job back on Earth, and you fantasized about living a carefree life without having to worry about rent or food. But you soon discovered that life as a homebody is no fun and games either. As much as you enjoy annoying—ahem, admiring and praising Sylus, staying alone with him for too long is making you feel things. Things that have no place in your heart.
“You can’t—you don’t have to work,” he insists. “I have more gold than I know what to do with, you can use them all you want.”
“As tempting as the offer is—” who doesn’t want to be a handsome dragon’s sugar baby? “—I’ll have to decline for, let’s say, ethical purposes.”
“But—”
“Sylus,” you cut him off, the soft clinking of your teacup on its saucer sounds sharp, like a warning bell. “I’m doing this.”
He is about to protest, but then he catches sight of the bruising on your wrist, so he purses his lips and folds back on his chair. “I’m sorry.”
The Sylus in-game is the epitome of a perfect man: confident, secure, respectful and devoted. But the Sylus sitting in front of you is basically Rapunzel. Over a thousand years spent alone in his tower with no human contact may not have broken his mind, but the gaps in his emotional development are evident. He’s growing too attached. You knew of the consequences of staying with him and you selfishly let it happen. You don’t know how destiny works, but you know that somewhere in the future, there is a world where Sylus can be happy, truly happy with the woman he loves. And you love him too much to rip that away from him, so you will do the right thing and leave before either of you can make a mistake.
***
Sylus doesn’t understand.
Humans work to make money, so they can buy things. From what you told him, you always worried about money, that’s why, even though you loathed your job, you did not stop until you died.
But his cave is full of treasures already. He has enough money to last him for eternity, enough to last the both of you for as long as you live.
He hates that he does not understand. He hates that small trinket shop that hired you, and he hates that human boy—no, the young man who looks at you like… like you just told him really good news and now he can’t stop smiling.
It’s infuriating.
He would never admit this to you, but sometimes—not all the time—he wishes you were a bird. You would be a very adorable bird, he thinks. A loud and cute thing. If you were a bird, he would build you the biggest, most intricate, most beautiful golden cage. Only the best bird seeds and fruits would be given to you. You would never want for anything.
If you were a bird, you could stay with him.
If you were a bird, you wouldn't have to leave ever again.
***
“Everything’s been running more smoothly since you came along,” says Orson as he carries the newest delivery of antiques inside the store. He’s the grandson of the owner and an incredibly polite eighteen-year-old.
“Well, I’m glad you find me satisfactory.” This place isn’t so bad. Compared to your old nine to five, this is easy money. The people are also nice enough. No one calls you an idiot every second and the only other employee, Orson, knows how to pull his weight.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. We used to lose a lot of the smaller stuff, but your—what do you call it, inventory? Your inventory makes it easier to keep track of everything.”
You laugh and help him unload the crates. You fish out the usual knicknacks that are sent to this store: silverware, secondhand books, old toys, a kettle—no.
You rub your whole face.
Orson peers over from his crate and teases, “Dust in your eye again?”
You ignore him and look back at the contents of the box. This can’t be.
He calls your name as you reach inside and carefully pull out a lamp, its gold sheen nowhere to be found under layers of dust and dirt. Wrapped around it is a small, black and red dragon.
Sorry if I missed /repeated someone in the tags, Tumblr doesn’t exactly have the best commenting system.
a/n: How’re you guys liking the verb tense change? I know I originally wrote everything in the past tense but since this is set in an otoge I went with the usual present tense used in such games. Or does it feel too awkward?
ALSO PLEASE NO SPOILERS ABOUT THE NEWEST ADDITION TO THE MAIN STORY. I have been busy with finals so I still haven't played them.
Inside an Otoge: Mister Dragon, Let Me Love You - Chapter 7
Pairing: Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader
CHAPTER 6 | Series Masterlist
<<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>
Author's Note:
Here is the long due Mister Dragon update. (Unedited because I wrote this after waking up from a food coma.)
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Habari Gani, Happy Human Holiday, everyone!
In the game, dragons are hated and feared, even their very image is not allowed to exist. Naturally, the main character had a lamp with a dragon; as punishment, she was thrown into the Abyss, where she met Sylus.
In other words, the dragon lamp is the catalyst to everything between Sylus and his fated one.
Although his meeting with the MC will lead to countless heartbreaks, it will also give him unimaginable joy; the kind of bliss that few people ever experience, whether here or in your universe.
The game was still active when you got pulled into this world, so you have no clue how Sylus reaches his ending. However, you’re certain that regardless of whatever angst-filled torture the devs come up with, his ending is destined to be a happy one.
While you enjoyed playing house with him, you knew that you couldn’t stay forever. During a time when you had nothing, Sylus gave you something to hold onto. You adored the character, but now, with each passing day, you find yourself falling in love with the flesh and blood person. Because of that love, you promised yourself that once the MC made her appearance, you were going to silently withdraw and wish them the best.
You promised to put his happiness above everything, and yet…
“Found anything good?” Orson calls from his spot.
“Yeah. The silverware looks fancy,” you answer as you close the box, keeping the forbidden item inside. “We may be able to sell them at a good price, I’m not sure about the books though, they’re all atlases.”
“No worries. We can donate the paper for the festival decorations.” His boyish face lights up at the mention of their town’s founding anniversary.
“Right,” you answer before lifting the box with your knees.
“Oh, just leave that, I’ll carry it.”
“No!” You clear your throat. “No, I can do it.”
The box feels heavier than it should as you carry it in the storage room. For now, it’s best to hide the contraband.
***
Ever since your arrival, Sylus has read over a hundred books in the past three months, from nonfiction and biographies of royalty, to fairy tales and romance novels. You claim that it’s for his own sake, to help educate him about humans, but considering how many times you’ve asked to borrow every book you’ve gifted him, your reasons may be a lot more self-serving.
(He doesn’t mind, if anything, he thinks you could be a little more selfish.)
According to those romance books you’d fawn over—as well as “The History of Beauty” encyclopedia—if not for his draconic features, people would fawn over his long limbs and symmetrical face, but you seem to see and love more than what most humans value.
“Sylus, when are you going to let me touch your tail?”
“Sylus, can I polish your horns?”
“Sylus, your smile is radiant as the moon.”
You would spout these inane ramblings without an ounce of shame or a slither of deceit—all while making heart gestures, sometimes with just your thumb and pointer finger, other times with your arms bent above you.
He now understands that you mean every word, and yet, he can’t sense any lust. When you compliment him, it’s as if you’re praising a masterpiece. Or a pet.
Either way, your sincerity is better than the contempt he’s received from the rest of the world, that’s what he tells himself. He should be grateful for what you give him, even if it were mere scraps of affections, he should be satisfied. An existence such as himself shouldn’t covet more from something as pure as you, he repeats in his mind.
But to be admired as a work of art feels hollow. As days pass, the heart that he’s kept closed off for over a thousand years now craves for more.
“Hey! You’re early.” You step out of the store, holding the cloak he gave you. He still hasn’t quite grasped why you choose to work again (especially since you’ve told horror stories about your former job) when his collection of treasures is more than enough to buy this whole city—the continent, even. However, you do seem to enjoy your new responsibilities, so he stopped bringing up his displeasure. When he first met you, you were an anomaly, a hyperactive bird or pup that’s too affectionate—too reckless for its own good. He’s grown fond of that side of you, but whenever he sneaks glimpses of you at work, he finds himself unable to look away when he sees your serious face. It’s a different type of adorable that he can’t criticize.
You approach him with a teasing grin. “You couldn’t wait ten minutes to see my lovely face?”
“Yes.”
His answer catches you off guard; you fumble, causing the cloak to fall from your fingers.
He wordlessly catches it and drapes the fabric over your shoulders. As he secures the gold clasp over your collar, he takes a moment to look at you. Everything you are wearing right now, from this fur cloak to your undergarments and your boots, are all from him. There is no denying the delight he feels when he sees you covered from head to toe with his gifts.
“It’s getting colder,” he states the obvious, fingers hovering over the gold near your neck. “You’re going to need thicker coats.”
“R-right.” You turn your head away from him and he chuckles.
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing.” You cough and then face him again. He’s learned to tell apart your different expressions, and it amazes him how smiles can vary so greatly. You’re smiling now, but it’s so clearly forced. “So you missed me, huh?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to give me butterflies.”
“You said that I always give you butterflies.”
“I was slowly building up an immunity but now you show up early to pick me up from work and tell me you missed me? If you keep teasing me like this I might throw up from happiness.”
“I’m not teasing you,” he says, then he stops. He looks at you, smirking ever so slightly. “Okay, maybe I am teasing you just a little.”
You shake your head, preparing to exaggerate a pout and walk away, but then he adds, “But I meant it.”
His eyes bore into yours as he continues, “Lately, I find myself dissatisfied with everything unless I’m with you.”
He expects you to laugh it off, or—more hopefully—to acknowledge his feelings, but instead, something akin to terror flashes over your face.
It’s gone instantly and you cover it up with a chuckle. “I feel the same way.”
You love him, you adore him; Sylus knows this for a fact, so why do you look so sad when you say those words?
Unaccustomed to such circumstances, Sylus denies the gnawing desire to ask you what’s wrong and changes the subject as you two start walking down the street.
“So, what are you going to wear?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“There’s going to be a festival next week, correct? Your regular clothes are nice, but I know that people like to dress up during special occasions.”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had the time to think about what to wear.”
“Well, I’ve been choosing your outfits for you since you arrived here, I don’t see why I should stop now.”
You finally give him a joyful smile. “Only if I get to choose yours.”
His hand almost moves to touch your face, but he keeps it by his side. “Whatever you want.”
***
You can’t forget the important item that you’ve hidden, but you decided to enjoy your moments with Sylus until whatever happens happens.
“You’re going to bore a hole in my chest if you keep staring at it,” Sylus says as you two make your way towards the town square.
“I can’t help it, you look sensational.” Yesterday, you spent the whole day perfecting Sylus' outfit. The tailor in charge of his clothes was very happy to design a suit for someone like him.
He’s tall and…well, himself, so there was no need to worry about using red, which, on the wrong person, runs the risk of looking childish or flamboyant.
“You’re going to make me blush.”
“You look rather pleased from where I’m standing.” He doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed, even as the villagers around you begin whispering and staring. They must think he’s a foreign prince or some nobleman. “I think everyone here agrees.”
“I don’t really care what they think,” he mumbles. “If you say that I look handsome, then that’s all I need.”
“...” You laugh and elbow his side. “I guess those romance books are paying off, huh?”
“What?”
You half-run away from him, pretending to have been lured in by a little girl with a basket of paper flowers.
“Hey, kid, how much for the flowers?”
“These aren’t for sale, silly!” She shows her basket, which is full of flower crowns. “We make these at school so that we can give everyone a crown.”
“In that case, can I have two?”
“Sure thing! Here you go.”
You put one over your head and then turn to Sylus. “Here’s yours.”
Instead of taking the crown, he bends down, eyes closed.
The girl giggles and you hide your surprise as you crown him, too.
“Mister, you’re very pretty!”
Sylus lifts his chin and smiles at the girl. “You look very pretty as well.”
She covers her mouth, still giggling.
He turns to you. “You too.”
“I know.”
Even a cesspool like Taurus City can have its moments. Thanks to volunteers, the streets have been swept clean for the founding celebration. The many statues of former heroes and nobles who have contributed in building the city were decorated with paper flowers. The stalls that usually sell Wanderer meat now sell savory pastries and hot drinks. With a parade of dancers and papier-mâché floats and music filling the air, this place almost feels like a normal town.
Day turns to night and everyone gathers at the square, where a giant bonfire has been lit.
You rub your hands together, which does not go unnoticed.
“Is the cold finally getting to you?” Sylus removes his scarf and wraps it around your neck.
“And my sweet tooth,” you confess.
“Wait right here.”
He doesn’t wait for you to reply before Sylus disappears into the crowd, leaving you alone to enjoy the fire. Little children chase each other between the legs of adults and couples huddle together.
A perfect evening.
Out of nowhere, a powerful gust of wind blows into the square, knocking off your crown, but as you reach to grab it, your knees buckle.
People gasp around you as your body sways sideways and into the giant flame.
“Look out!”
You are shoved onto the ground, saved just in time, but your flower crown is no more.
“Are you all right? You didn’t get burned, did you?” your savior inquires.
You say nothing, the shock is fresh, but not because of what almost happened.
Hovering above you, with a waterfall of white hair that captures the moonlight, is the woman you’ve been waiting for; the Heroine of this world, the soulmate of the man you love.
She repeats the question and you reflexively bob your head.
“I’m not hurt—thank you.”
She pulls back and pats the dust off her dress. “That wind sure was something, huh? You were almost roasted alive!”
“...”
“I-I’m sorry, I was hoping to make you laugh.” She gives you a once-over and then offers you her hand. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“...yes, I’m okay,” you reassure her as she helps you up.
“I hope you don’t let this ruin your night.” Someone calls her from a distance and she waves at you. “You take care now.”
“Yeah, you too.”
When Sylus returns, you ask that you two sit.
He obliges and leads you to a vacant bench far from the crowds surrounding the bonfire.
“Let’s come back next year,” he says as he hands you a mug of hot chocolate.
You don’t look at him as you reply half-heartedly, “If it’s possible, why not.”
His fingers brush the back of your hand before they settle on your wrist. “Next year, we should definitely come back.”
“...” Your expression remains impassive as you stare at the bright red flames licking the sky.
Sylus reluctantly lets go, afraid that he has done something wrong. As he prepares an apology, you lift your head and give him a familiar grin. “Sure.”
He smiles, relieved.
The two of you soak in the festive atmosphere. You focus on the warm mug between your palms and pretend not to notice how he keeps sneaking glances at you.
You finish your drink and, as if he’s been waiting for you to sip the last drop of chocolate, Sylus speaks up, “There’s something I need to show you.”
Sylus leads you outside the gate, which has been left unattended by the guards, and then scoops you up in his arms before launching into the air.
His wings remain invisible even as he flies through the cloudless sky.
You don’t have to ask where he’s taking you; you recognize the route immediately.
He lands on the same meadow again. Compared to last time, there is not a single flower anywhere because of the approaching winter.
He gently puts you down before backing away.
“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
He chuckles. “Just stay there for a moment.”
He closes his eyes and inhales. The air stills with his breath and then, with the flick of his tail, a thousand black dots floated from his armor, carried by a crimson mist that dances around him until it becomes a sphere. The gentle breeze on the meadow transforms and tornadoes around him.
“Sylus!”
You step forward, but the glittering red ball grows bigger and bigger until it rivals a house, with each swirl, the winds howl more loudly around you.
You shout his name again and this time, the mist dissipates. A few specks of sparkling red floats in the air before disappearing completely.
A shadow towers over you, blocking the moon from view. Your Sylus has been replaced by a dragon. His flower crown sits awkwardly over one horn.
You blink several times and then rub your eyes.
“Stop that,” the dragon before you scolds, “you’re going to hurt your eyes.”
“Did you just—what in the—what are you—”
Sylus lowers his head until his gigantic snout is right in front of yours, then he puffs out a warm breath, much to your annoyance.
He lets out a sound of amusement.
“You said you hated being in your dragon form, why are you showing this to me?”
His jewel eyes focus on you and then, he repeats a familiar line: “‘To me, you are still nothing more than one who is just like a hundred thousand others. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than one like a hundred thousand others. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.’” [1]
“I can’t believe you remembered all that,” you say, impressed. “Just how many times did you read that book?”
“I would like it very much.”
“You’d like what very much?”
“To be needed by you.”
It’s your turn to hold your breath.
He calls your name.
You sigh and look at the stars. “That would be nice.”
[1] The actual quote is: “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…”
ATTENTION, DEAR READERS: It's been a while since my Mister Dragon update; I tried my best to check for those asking to be added to the taglist but I may have missed/repeated a user.
If you wish to be added, please leave a comment on the series masterlist. Also, how do you like the divider? I think they help clean up a post, don't you? I'm gonna incorporate them now hohohoho~
I wish you all an advance Happy New Year and that you get your man this upcoming anniversary update! 🧡💙🍎🍏✈️
CHAPTER 8: Coming Soon.
Disclaimer: The image of Sylus used in this post does not belong to the writer, it is an official image from the game itself. The line divider was made with Photopea.
