Those three words have never been easy to say - the weight of them too much for the two of you to bare at the beginning. So, instead, you said it in other ways. Layers to cover the sticky, messy irreversible fact that was too terrifying to voice out loud.
"I don't mind being used by you." I love you.
"I'll be there anytime you need me." I love you.
"A man's heart goes to where his treasure is." I love you.
"I have you." I love you.
"If you're not there, then I'm not interested." I love you.
"Claim me and my territory." I love you.
"Actions speak louder than words." I love you.
"No matter how outrageous your reason might be, I'll do whatever you want with you." I love you.
"Shivanika, shivanika, shivanika." I love you, I love you, I love you.
"You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine."
So when the words finally slipped out - the raw truth in a triplet - you didn't blink. Didn't sputter or panic like you thought would happen.
Your heartbeat synchronized with his for one beat. Then two.
Something internally finally cracked and gave way, a freedom in those morphemes that held just as much power as any touch - any action. A voiced decision - declaration.
"I love you."
And in those quiet seconds that moved each as their own eternities, you moved, stepping forward, a hand around his neck to pull him close - lips barely apart so they shared the same breath, and finally set the truth free.
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Story Tags: implied violence at the beginning, but other than that we are fluffity fluff.
Word Count: 2,127
(A03 Link)
A/N: I had a thought, inspiration, and carved out some time. Merry Christmas, my loves. And for those who don't celebrate, warm winter wishes. Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics
It was often grueling work, the type of clean up that he had to do to maintain his position. Too often were his hands stained by blood that tainted anything within reach. Despite the twinkling lights, the carols and smells that slipped through the air giving some semblance of normalcy to a world perpetually in the dark, he could not shake the shadows that followed. The stains left behind.
The happy couples that slipped past often gave him pause. Maintaining his empire meant that he, more often than not, had to be away from you days or weeks more than he ever cared to be. But he would do it, again and again, if it meant maintaining all that he could provide for you.
And if you ever asked him to be somewhere, nothing would keep him away. He was never one to believe in deities in the first place.
So when his phone chimed with a 'merow', he calmly placed his foot on the neck of the man below him, holding him in place. This particular conversation was not over, but you were always first.
It doesn't take much pressure to crush a windpipe - or at least for someone like him, but he was still purposefully slow, to make sure his message was crystal clear, and allow him time to think.
It would be tight, but he could make it back by then. He just needed to wrap up this little irritating instance of a failed coup quickly. With thumbs slipping into his pockets, he turned, mist taking care of the body behind, and chancing after his feet as he moved forward.
December 24th, 20:14 PM - the jet had landed with little time to spare, but he would make it to you by midnight. It was the least he could do.
His body ached with a weariness that had settled in his bones - a heavy linked chain that wrapped around the stone he called a heart. The only time he seemed to not feel it's weight was when he was with you. He would not bring that burden to your doorstep. So, once landed, he would go home and shower, wash away the remainder of the fight, and then drive as fast as the Blackrose Archfiend would allow to arrive at your door.
It hadn't occurred to him that you would be here. That you would want to spend as much of the holiday as you could with him.
The door to the garage opened soundlessly, and heels clicked across the tile to the main foyer.
A scented wave of pine and sugar was what hit him first - so quickly that he sneezed. These were not…common smells from Onychinus at any time of year. Following his nose, he headed down the main hallway and the set of stairs off to the side to the first basement level.
There he found the room you had asked to take over.
The door was flung open, and inside, it was everything the base was not. Outside of the black leather sofa and chairs, everything was colorful. Muted, but still bright. Reds, greens, and golds covered most surfaces - garland around the chimney mantle, and beneath it, five different colored stockings, each with a letter embroidered on them. A fire was already burning low to stave off the chill.
A plethora of blankets and pillows were stacked haphazardly on the couch, the glass coffee table pushed to nearly directly under the TV.
His record player had been moved to the back corner and in its place now stood a grand evergreen, covered in white lights and matching colored ornaments and baubles. Well…except for a few… unique decorations.
A matte toy gun. A large, plastic red jewel. Two matching crows. A pomegranate.
A gray brow bounced, but the corner of his lip curled up in amusement. "Subtle, sweetie."
Sylus turned, a light tune catching his ear, but from further down the hall. He followed the notes as the scent of sugar and something sharper drew him into the secondary kitchen.
And the sight before him was…something. Leaning against the doorframe, he crossed his arms and watched his odd little murder hard at work.
The twins were wearing…well, he wasn't honestly sure what to call it. It looked like an oversize child's pajama - one in green, and one in red, with stuffed brown horns on the hoods that hid most of their red hair. A large white patch of fabric was over the chest area, with, what looked to be, a candy cane sewn where a heart should be.
Kieran had his sleeves rolled to his elbows, emerald eyes locked in on the cookie before him as he carefully decorated the shape with the white piping bag.
Luke was listening intently to you as you explained something about the bowl he was holding and staring into.
Crimson eyes drank you in, large plaid sleep pants and a tight black top, although the features it would show off were hidden under a green apron decorated in what seemed to be a variety of winter themed treats.
Luke was the first to notice him, but, with their ability, he and Kieran said together, "Welcome back, boss!"
You jumped in surprised, but the grin that stretched across your face was worth the rushed journey home. He caught you mid leap, letting your momentum spin the two of you around before placing your feet back on the floor.
"You made it!"
"Did you doubt me?"
"No, but I'm excited you made it back early." You gave him a brief kiss, and then tapped his arms. "But you have to go change. That's the rules of tonight. Christmas pajamas for everyone."
Brows furrowed into a silent question, eyes briefly jumping to the twins still diligently working behind you.
Leaning forward, you gave him another kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry - you match me, not them. They're by my travel bag in the room."
Before he could protest, you were already spinning him around and shoving him through the door. With a clap, you were back into head baker mode, leading the twins in another round of creations.
One hot shower later, washed free of the burdens of his trip, Sylus was slipping into the clothes you had brought. And while he had originally winced at the patterns involved, he found it surprisingly soft.
By the time he had returned, you had the twins helping you move an assortment of creations from the kitchen to the decorated den. He followed, intrigued.
A plethora of multicolored treats adorned the coffee table between the couch and the television, and you were now organizing the pillows and blankets into two groups.
At some point Mephisto had joined in, settling into the Christmas tree, as if he were nothing more than decoration himself.
Sylus simply molded to whatever you needed him to be - a blanket stand, a furniture shifter, a remote finder, but soon enough you were all settled in - the two of you curled together on the corner of the couch, where long legs could lay comfortably stretched on the ottoman, and you could curl on top of him and under blankets, soaking in his heat like a kitten.
The twins were on the floor, pillows and blankets haphazardly surrounding them in some semblance of a nest. Cheeks already stuffed with treats, all were merry and ready for the Christmas movie marathon you planned.
Jingle All the Way. Home Alone. The Grinch. A Christmas Story.
And somewhere between Ralph meeting the mall Santa and the horrendous gift from Aunt Clara, Luke and Kieran, bellies full and bodies warm, toppled into sleep.
Sylus, unbothered by the hour and energized by your closeness, continued the movie with you, making snide comments every so often that would send you in a muffled state of giggles.
As the credits rolled, Sylus clicked off the TV and let the silence envelope you both. The dim lights of the Christmas tree in the corner, and the warmth of the one you loved most gave you the best feeling. One you did your best to commit to memory for the nights that were cold in ways other than temperature.
The world, for tonight, at least, had shrunken down to your little murder of crows gathered into this one room. And here, knowing they were safe - that they had allowed you to come in and share this incredibly normal, silly tradition with them, made your heart also grow three sizes…if that was even possible.
But right as you begin to tip over into sleep, the whisper of a memory had you shooting up - startling a half sleeping dragon from his nap.
Back to the closet in a flash, carefully and quietly as possible, you pulled out wrapped presents, tiptoeing up to the tree and slipping them beneath the branches.
"Sweetie," a voice drawled in amusement from where he watched. "You're going to spoil them."
"Oh, hush. Everyone should enjoy the magic of Santa once in their lives."
Crimson eyes gazed over the carefully wrapped gifts. Studied the shape as if he could see right through it. "Please tell me it's not -"
"I used your card for theirs, so shush! I knew you were going to get all pouty if I didn't. And, yes, it's the new gaming system they wanted. Enough for four players."
There was a lull in conversation as you went digging through the closet again, pulling out a small cubed-shape present that you placed in the lower branches of the evergreen, and another that you hid with your frame.
Your love tilted his head as he thought. "You said 'for theirs'."
"Yes," you said turning toward him, moving whatever you had behind your back. "Luke, Kieran, and Mephie's. Yours I got all on my own. Well," you bobbed your head back and forth, "I pulled a few strings to find the right people, but, yes, on my own."
He was curious now, leaning forward and turning where his legs now touched the ground, allowing you to slip easily between them. His large hands came to rest on your hips. "This," he said, hands squeezing just so, "is the only gift I have ever wanted, and you've already given it to me."
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help the smile that slipped through. "Not one you could open on Christmas."
A quirk of a brow and smirk of lips had you regretting your word choice instantly. One hand slipped out to playfully smack his shoulder. "Cheeky."
"I didn't say anything. That was all you, sweetie."
"I had to think long and hard - Sylus, hush!" Laughter shook the man's body as he pulled you close enough to muffle the sound with your stomach. For someone trying to have a serious moment, your word choice was failing you greatly.
You ran one hand through his hair, giving a slight tug, as his ministrations calmed. "As I was saying - you are not easy to buy for. What do you give a man who owns everything?"
It was then that you brought the give around, backing up just enough to hold it in the space between you two.
Sylus could recognize that shape anywhere, even the crimson wrapping paper and gold bow. A record.
Curious, he took it gently from you and unwrapped it with the greatest care.
The cover was plain charcoal black, absolutely no hints to what was hidden within the grooves of the vinyl. With a curious look to you, where he marked how you bit your bottom lip, hands now clasped behind you, he stood, walking toward the record player in the back of the room.
You hadn't stopped him - it was something, then, safe for all to hear. Or maybe something that only the two of you would understand, even if overheard by others.
With deft hands, he set the needle and lowered the volume. It took a moment, but then the familiar melody began to swell. His eyes widened as he turned toward you. "This is -"
"The song we danced to after you asked me to properly be your girlfriend. The one playing in the park."
"But…how? It was a live band with a debut song."
You couldn't help but wink. "Can't reveal my sources, boss man. Lest you steal them away."
Shaking his head in amazement, Sylus held out a hand to you. "Dance with me."
Taking his hand, you rounded the couch, hands finding purchase around his neck as he held you close, the two of you swaying to the beat. During the crest of the chorus, he leaned down, slotting your lips together in a heartfelt kiss.
"Merry Christmas, Sylus."
"Merry Christmas, beloved."
Created by @thechaoticarchivist . DO NOT REPOST.
Reblogs and comments always welcome ♥ Sylus Stories Master List
He loved it - relished in the fact that you took interest in his work at all. Sharp eyes and even a sharper mind, he felt your true place was next to him, not behind.
Now, it seemed, was only convincing you of the same thing.
He wasn't quite sure how long you had worked for him without his knowledge; he didn't often worry about trivial matters such as these with the everchanging personnel on file.
But he does remember the first time he saw you - truly. Brows furrowed, arms crossed, mid conversation with the twins.
They had said something, he had missed what, but you were in clear disagreement. And then you spoke, and it nearly knocked him off his feet. Not because you were loud, not because what you said was laced with any sort of malice, but because it was not.
Calm and direct, not cruel, as you recited word for word from a meeting he recognized from a few weeks ago.
Your memory was uncanny.
He was drawn to it, immediately. Curious by a creature surviving in a place different from the habitat is should be a part of.
Slowly, much too slowly in his opinion, he involved you a little more. Pushed and stretched you to see what would make you tick. What would break you.
Turns out it wasn't very much. Living in a world such as this would do that to a person.
The thing you seemed to hate the most, but did despite it all to keep your steady job, was the clean up. You always came back a little paler than before, nearly sprinting to a shower and coming out raw from the heat and the scrubbing of your skin.
It must have been a counterbalance to how well you could use a weapon though. Deadly accurate - a killer shot each time.
But that, too, seemed to not settle well with you. It only took him once to realize that just because you could, didn't mean he should be requesting it of you.
No - your true strength lied in strategy. In observations and processing.
He wasn't sure what possessed him to bring you into a debriefing with a subgroup of his, but he did.
You stood in the back, half hidden in shadow, quiet as a church mouse, as you took it all in. A human recorder of body language and speech.
But it wasn't until after they left that you revealed your true strengths to him. A tilt of your head, watching as they left. And then, door closed, ever so quiet and steady, "You know he pops a knuckle with his thumb every time he lies?"
He gave you a slow, predatory blink. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. He just couldn't pop anymore after the fourth," you said with a shrug, and, because you hadn't known why you had been brought in there, either, nodded to your boss and slipped out the door.
That was the moment Sylus realized he wanted you.
Your intelligence, your quick quips, you observations - all of it, next to him, at any given time. Oh, he liked you.
All his life he had been in the dominate role - the predator that lazily selected meals as if it were a chore. And when he found something delectable, oh, how he wanted to savor it.
So that's what he did - moving slowly, but with purpose and precision, to lay out the most incising trap. He would have you, and you would walk willingly into his awaiting claws.
Wouldn't you come observe this next meeting - tell him what you noticed?
Wouldn't you review this document, see what stands out? What loopholes you find in this contract?
Wouldn't you come dine with him? Much about human nature can be seen when delicious food and drink were involved.
Over and over and over until, at last, you came to him on your own - a belief that you should be present, even when not explicitly asked. Finding the hidden trap a comfortable resting place, unknowing of the truth.
It is why you currently stood next to him today, peering down at the papers splayed out on the desk. Another contract, but with secrets - changes that had been made after a meeting in hopes that the scarlet eyes of the devil didn't notice them.
He did. And so did you.
It was hard to know if it was the fact that you were smaller than he or he just much larger than average that forced your physical proximity to him.
Currently, you leaned over his desk, one hand on the edge for balance as you read. And he, even with his chair scooted back, was still close enough to reach out and touch you if he wanted, one knee just shy of being between your thighs.
Claiming the space. Claiming you, without your knowledge.
Tapping your finger on a line, you hummed in thought. "This part - the verbiage they chose will contradict the verbal agreement from last week."
The chair creaked quietly as he leaned forward, the light touch of his hand splaying across your lower back as he moved closer to peer around you - to see. A frown cut deeply across his face.
As he opened his mouth to speak, the door to his office flew open, the over confidence of the man in question slipping into the room like stale cologne. Both of you wrinkled your nose automatically at the intrusion.
With a twist, you meant to slip to the side, out of sight and mind for whatever was to happen next, but the light touch at your back became a harsh grip around your hip, not bruising but a demand nonetheless, and then you were tugged, firmly, backwards, finding yourself perched on the leg than had been strategically set behind you.
The proverbial snap of the ensnarement. Torn between wanting to study you and the imposition across from him, he settled himself by what your body told him instead.
Tense - tight as a bowstring - but relaxing in the smallest of increments. Accepting of your fate. Your breathing did not change, your pulse remained steady, your eyes straight ahead.
But your spine was as ridged as a steel pole. The only tell that you had been surprised at all.
"Mr. Sylus, I hope that you have found our contract to be satisfactory?" the large man before him said, taking an unwelcome seat across the desk, eyes flitting to you, just briefly.
"No," was all the leader said, fingers dancing like spider legs around your side and predominately to your front, making a clear claim.
A scoff of bewilderment, and the large man adjusted in the chair. "It is exactly what we discussed, what could be wrong with it?"
A pop of a knuckle. Your eyes jumped to the offending hand, and then back to the underling's face.
There was a huff from the side of you, and you could hear the smirk without even needing to turn. "It is unwise to lie to me, Anthony."
The man in question's gaze flitted to you first, before back to the one who held you in place. Your presence was making him nervous. Good.
"I am not a man who goes back on my word," Anthony boasted, followed by another audible pop.
Nothing but a blink from you, a dangerous tilt of the lips from the man you sat with.
The man in question was starting to sweat, breathing hitching just so. The silence was suffocating to him. A finger pulled at his collar, eyes flitting back to you, how you were perched.
"Why don't you head on out, sweet thing, while the men talk? Warm up his bed while we handle business that's a bit above your head?"
There was an obvious shift in the silence that followed, a palpable thing that seemed to fill the office like a gas, waiting for a spark to ignite.
But that was never your way to handle things. No, your words were a quiet push of a knife between the fourth and fifth ribs. Deadly on completion.
"Do you equate silence with stupidity?"
Anthony's eyes jumped back to you, widening to those of a prey caught between two beasts.
"No, of course not!" Another pop of the knuckles. The third in such a short time.
"Then you should exercise it more often."
His complexion paled, the only sign of realization that he had crossed a dangerous line.
You were not there just to satiate some primal desire. A mind just as sharp as any blade in the best collection - and here Anthony sat like a dull pocketknife in comparison.
It was only then that the man closed his mouth, his nerves taking over his body - shaking him slightly in the chair that he resided.
When you said nothing else, Sylus then spoke. "Now that things have been clarified, let's begin discussion of the changes you have proposed."
As the meeting progressed, you began to sink into acceptance of whatever this was - this role without a name that had you now at the side of the most powerful man in existence of the N109 Zone.
You found yourself without fear, almost comforted and relaxed by the heat radiating from his body into yours, the heavy, solid feeling of his arm that had now snaked its way around your waist.
A confirmation of a silent request. A claim. An acceptance.
This was...new. To be seen and wanted in this way. Not unliked, just different than what you had lived up to this point. And you found that you didn't mind it one bit.
Anthony left on wobbly legs, a contract with new, very limiting stipulations signed between them. Something in your gut said a mechanical crow would be watching that syndicate carefully for any sign of rebellion.
You went to remove yourself as well, only to have the grip around you tighten just enough to make you freeze. A silent request. Light enough that, if you wanted, that you could easily slip out of with a little more force.
But you found you didn't want to. Not really.
So you settled again, turning toward the man that kept you bound to him. You cocked your head in question, waiting. Unlike most, you held the gaze of those ever burning irises with ease.
"Stay with me. Just for a little longer."
A pulse.
"Alright."
You shifted, moving to a more comfortable stance that eased you more into his torso, and his arm relaxed just barely around your waist. Still claiming, but not restricting.
It was spices and wood smoke that filled your nostrils as you moved closer, eyeing the new set of documents he had reached for, a change in the atmosphere around the both of you now: crackling energy begging to be released.
"Now," his voice low, close enough his breath tickled the hair on the back of your neck. "Tell me what you see."
Sylus had always told you to take over whatever space you liked in his home - there was plenty of it. And to his excitement, you slowly had.
Most things blended in so seamlessly they went unnoticed by visitors - newer alternative band records on shelves, a thick, deep red throw that lived on the back of the black leather couch, a vase full of blood red roses in the entryway.
Further back, where the residents of Onychinus resided, it was more prominent. This went from a residence for three to a home of four, and it felt fuller. Better. Warmer.
All thanks to you.
And while claiming your territory within his, you had carved out areas that were uniquely yours, and Sylus had noticed that some of those areas were directly connected to your moods.
Most of the time he knew instantly when he walked into the base where he would find you. He knew what type of greeting you would need, and more than likely what type of chaos you and the twins had gotten into while he was away.
There were only three spots that were watched meticulously as they were seldom used. Three rooms that, if you entered and stayed, the twins were to text him immediately.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Sylus regretted letting the broker he was meeting prattle on as long as he did. Yes, he succeed in closing the deal, but it had required him to ignore the buzz in his pocket. The warning sent in code.
It meant you had sat in that room, alone, deep within yourself, for far longer than you needed to.
His heels clicked softly as he traveled the halls of his domain. Determined and sure-footed. Up multiple steps and around a corner to a hidden room tucked away in the back of the base.
It was another, smaller library, but one you had transformed into a reader’s dream. Fairy lights followed the perimeter of the ceiling, giving the room and warm and inviting glow.
A plush rug sat near the front of the room, covered in a variety of floor pillows and thick blankets; your nest, you would joke.
The room also contained a hammock chair, a black leather loveseat and matching couch. Perfect for whichever way you felt like reading.
And along the walls, filled to the brim, rows and rows of bookshelves.
Each seat represented a slightly different mood. The hammock chair when you were needing space, the nest when you were anxious, the couch when you were trying to act normal, but silently falling apart.
Tonight, when he found you, you were sitting stark straight, eyes locked on the book in your lap in faux focus.
He greeted you with a kiss on the crown of your head before he was circling the couch to sit beside you, arm stretched the length of the back, one long leg crossing at the knee of the other.
There was silence, tense with something hidden, and Sylus let it sit as his fingers stretched languidly across your shoulder blades, moving slowly back and forth, a motion that brought you to the present and grounded you.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“I’m fine," you said without looking up.
You were obviously not fine. You sat, legs tucked underneath you, spine rigidly stacked, head sharply bent to look at the pages. A person masking as someone who was okay.
“We’re going to need to work on your ability to lie.”
“I’m fine, Sy,” you responded with a bit of a bite, shaking his hand off. He stilled it on the back of the couch.
“Your body tells the truth, kitten. And so does the fact that your book is upside down.”
You blinked. Well, I’ll be damned, you thought. You hadn’t even noticed when you had grabbed it originally.
You shut the novel, setting it to the side. You said nothing. Sylus didn’t push. He never did. You would talk when you were ready.
Five minutes or fifty, he would still be here.
“It’s stupid.” It came out small. Hushed.
“Nothing’s stupid when it comes to you.”
A pained look crossed your face, and then you dropped it in shame, studying your hands. “You can’t fix this.”
“I highly doubt that -“
“You can’t pay off my brain for thinking stupid thoughts.”
Ah, he sees. And he waits.
“Have…have you ever wanted to know someone so bad, but it seems they want nothing to do with you? And you see them interacting with all these other people that aren’t you with ease, people you also know, but somehow when you join there’s this clear awkwardness that everyone can feel but doesn’t want to admit to?”
No, he hadn’t. What he did note was that this was oddly specific. Saying nothing, his hand moved back to your shoulder, fingers folding into a fist, his knuckles adding a pleasant, almost painful pressure against your tense muscles.
You found yourself leaning in naturally.
“And I don’t think I’ve done anything to offend.”
“Did you ask?”
“No, because that tends to just make things worse. People always assume that you should just know.”
A hum of acknowledgement.
“And I know I should be thankful for those who willingly are my friends, but I can’t help but feel greedy in this.”
“Wanting to be liked by others isn’t exactly greed, sweetie. But it is very human. Natural, I fear.” It was meant as a light joke, but it didn’t make you smile or turn his way.
His hand slid from your shoulder to your upper arm, giving it a squeeze and tugging you just slightly toward him.
You resisted at first, wanting to remain in this pity party of one, but on the second tug you gave in willingly. Falling into the hard planes of his chest, his arms and warmth immediately surrounding you, muscles unspooling in the familiar comfort.
A hand found your hair, slowly dragging fingers through the strands, scratching your scalp in the most soothing of ways.
“It’s easy to say to focus on those who care and put in the same amount of work in your relationship when you’re the one not struggling,” Sylus said slowly, the words rumbling through his chest and vibrating you cheek that rested there. “But sometimes, some people just aren’t going to like you. And you have to learn to be okay with that.”
"I hate it," you hissed, voice barely above a whisper.
"I know."
Your body had begun to sink into his, knees and arms finding gaps to hide and tuck away in until your were flush against one another.
Together, you lay quietly for a while, the only sound that of gentle breathing, the occasional shift of clothing.
And then, laced with sleep, you murmured. "Thank you."
A chuff. "Whatever for, kitten?"
"Getting to know me."
A hum, and another shift as Sylus reached for a nearby blanket, causally throwing it over the both of you. "You are worth getting to know."
He could feel the change in your body as it relaxed, the tension slipping free of your muscles, from your shoulder down the length of the spine. He heard the heavy sigh that signaled you were tumbling into sleep.
Once more kissed the crown of your head, arms wrapping around to hold you close. "And I will do it in every lifetime."
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A/N: This is actually what I originally had in mind for once they came back from the auction in Chapter 9 / 10. But the characters took over (as they often do) and the plot changed direction.
Please note this scene may have editing issues, due to it being a first draft.
Enjoy!
Word Count: 602
Nightly "detox" times, as you called them, had become custom. Usually, you did them with or near Sylus, together listening to a new album on the couch, or reading a book from the massive library he had. But when he was away, you found yourself craving the habit, and it was one you felt you could safely lean into.
You had been given permission to use the record player, but more often than not, if you were alone you read. Music, you felt, was supposed to be shared.
Sylus was more interested in your slow traverse across the couch. Every few nights you seemed to get just a little closer too him. Sure, you claimed it was for comfort purposes, and for the most part he did believe you. You had a talent for falling asleep in odd positions, and he was quite sure many of your joints protested on your waking.
But a month ago you sat in a way where your knees brushed his thigh when you would move. Two weeks ago you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder, and he was so afraid to move he barely breathed until you awoke.
Tonight, he watched as you put your favorite cushion against his lap, and laid down on your side, head on the pillow. You let out a contented sigh, eyes drifting shut as you listened to the music.
Sylus had pulled another new to you record from the shelves tonight, but he couldn't even hear it over the buzzing in his own ears. He was leaning causally against the armrest, as he normally did, one arms stretched over the back of the couch. His fingers on that hand twitched, having the urge to drag them up your arm. To feel your warm skin underneath him.
For a moment his hand stretched to do just that, and then he pulled back. "What story do you hear tonight?" he asked instead, running his fingers through his own white tresses to keep busy. Your made up stories were some of his favorite things to listen to.
"I dunno - this one sounds…longing," you stated, shifting just slightly.
Sylus' body tensed. He was in trouble.
"Oh?" he said with a lilt. "What kind of longing?"
"People…longing to connect," you decided as you listened. "Trying to figure out how to talk to each other, when there are so many things between them."
"Physical?" Ghosted fingertips slid up the length of your arm to your sleeve.
"Emotional," you replied, as those fingers made a trail back down.
There was a hum as the gentle pattern danced over your skin - every nerve alive and hair on end. You shivered under his touch.
"Cold, kitten?"
You shook your head, swallowing to find your voice. "No." The teasing, ticklish trail continued. No, you weren't cold at all - in fact, your body felt like it was on fire.
Sylus, watching you react, wasn't exactly sure if he was going to make it to the end of this album without doing something incredibly stupid. And, because of a greedy impulse, this particular symphony was one of the longest in his collection.
But it was you that stopped the heat of the moment from continuing to build, reaching back to slide your hand into his, interlocking your fingers together over your arm. You could still feel his thumb gently rub your skin, but as least you could breathe a little easier.
"What do you hear?" You asked him - anything to keep your thoughts from the place they raced. Kept your body from turning to look at him.
Rating: M (Subject to change) 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Story Content Warning: All the fun illegal things of a criminal mastermind, including: fights, hacking, stealing, ; Reader has a rough past that will be revealed with time (and proper warnings on those chapters) ; human experimentation (reader was experimented on) ; cussing ; slow burn ; boss / employee eventual relationship ; canon divergent ; sex tape used for blackmail (minor OC characters in tape) ; depiction of panic and anxiety attacks ; parental abandonment ; human trafficking ; dead dove (do not eat); afab reader she/her pronouns; tags and warnings subject to be updated
Story Summary: The world within the N109 Zone has always been a tough one to navigate, but your only loyalty has always been yourself, and it's kept you alive this long. But when the leader of Onychinus wants you to work for him, well - he's not exactly used to the word no, is he?
A/N: Thank you all so much for your love and support for this story! This master list was created for people to easily find chapters no matter when they join along.
Cross Posted to Ao3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 5.5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Deleted Scenes
These scenes are a mix of ones that didn't make the cut (❌) and first drafts of ones that did. (✒️)
❌ Bonding with the Twins
❌ Your Eye - Updating the Database
❌ Protocores and Joyrides - Before Auction
❌ Nightly Detox - After Auction
✒️ Choosing the Dragon - Original
✒️ Boxing with Evol - Original
More Coming Soon!!!
Secret Snippets
Dash
A Future Scene
Ask Kaits - Behind the Scenes in Chapter 5
Ask Kaits - The Juxtaposition of Sylus and V
Ask Kaits - The Writing Process
Story Content Warning: Political talk over sapient beings (not just humans), discussion of death of a side character due to political views (It's a sentence - nothing in depth.)
Master List || Day 8 <- -> Day 10
Day 9 - Death
--
"Death is not coming for me," you growled back, shaking hands moving to your weapon.
You couldn't see much of the creature, half hidden in the dark, but you could make out his silhouette, and one glowing red eye.
All he did was tilt his head. The shadow of a smirk upon his lips.
"Can a small thing like you even hold that sword?"
Shifting back into a stance proved to be fatal, as there was no ledge left for your foot. With the weight of your claymore, you tilted, felt gravity take hold of you to pull you close -