Sylus X Mc - Blog Posts

These cards side by side looks kinda😏

Munch Sylus <33

Birthday meal pt 1

I understand what Infold is trying to do with the whole tongue thing, but it’s just not working for me 😭 Please just let my guy keep it in his mouth because wtf is this 💀

Yall Infold did Sylus so DIRTYYY with this b day set up 💀 Like wtf is up with this squiggly wiggly ass cake and the ten million pomegranates on the table… Then to top it off you get a SINGULAR croissant 😭 Maybe I’m just a big back but I feel like my mans deserves one of those bougie charcuterie boards and a cake that actually has 360 degrees.

Clingy Sylus Texts

Clingy Sylus

Sylus was always a bit clingy. Even before you two officially started dating he had always been more than enthusiastic to have you by his side. But now that you were official, his need to have you by his side was constant.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You were sitting at your desk finishing some work when your phone buzzed. Checking the caller ID you saw that it was none other than your boyfriend, Sylus.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep right now? It’s too early for you to be getting into trouble.” You teased.

“You always seem to think I’m up to no good kitten. Have you ever thought that I might be calling because I miss you?” He taunts back.

“Still, you’re usually in bed by now. Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be missing me?” You say while putting away some folders.

“I could say the same about you. I thought we agreed on fixing your sleep schedule, no more work or coffee after 8 pm. And if I’m guessing I’d have to say you’ve broken both those rules by now. ”

You eye the empty mug on your desk then hop up out of your seat to look out the window.

“Have you been sending Mephisto to spy on me again? And don’t turn this around on me, we were talking about you!”

Sylus chuckles, “Don’t worry sweetie, I haven’t been spying much, I just know you too well.”

You roll your eyes silently. “Anyway back to what I was saying, why are you awake?”

Silence fills the room for a moment before Sylus quietly mumbles, “I can’t sleep… without you.”

You softened at his words, but quickly regained composure as you knew where this was heading. “Sy, you know I cant-“

“Please come over kitten, I miss you.” He pleaded into the phone.

“I have work tomorrow! I can’t miss it and you know that.” You scolded.

“Come on sweetie, just tonight? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” You could practically see the smirk he had on his face.

While the thought of having Sylus hold and caress you in all sorts of place excited you, you had a special mission tomorrow and Captain Jenna would surely have your head if you called off work again.

“I’m sorry Sy, you know I’d love to but this mission is really important and-“

“How much?”

Confused you questioned, “What?”

“How much kitten? I’ll pay anything to get over here and by my side tonight.” He was on the edge now. “We don’t have to do anything, all I want is to hold you close next to me and I’ll pay any amount of money to make that happen.”

“You know I’m not some thing you can rent whenever you please right? I have my own schedule too!” You reproached, slightly offended at his offer to “buy” your time.

He sighed, “I’m sorry Sweetie, I only meant that I’d do absolutely anything to hold you in my arms for a few hours.”

Feeling guilty for your small outburst you apologized, “Of course, I’m sorry. But I just can’t make it tonight Sy…”

“Not even if I won you all those plushies you wanted from the claw machine?”

“Not even if you won me all those plushies” you laughed

Another defeated sigh could be heard through the other side. “Alright alright. Could you at least grant me the pleasure of staying on the phone until I fall asleep though?”

You chuckled lightly, “Of course Sylus.”

Soft Sylus HCs pt.2

Soft Sylus who spends much more time than necessary getting ready in front of the mirror on days he knows he’ll see you because he always wants to look his best for you.

Soft Sylus who encourages Luke and Keiran to find ways to constantly set you two up together.

Soft Sylus who brings you a gift everytime he meets up with you, (gift giving is his #1 love language I swear) weather it be flowers, small items of jewelry, or even just snacks you mentioned liking.

Soft Sylus who threatens anyone who dares to make you upset. Boss being too hard on you? Suddenly they’ve resigned. Rando on the street catcalls you? You can be sure they won’t ever do that again…

Soft Sylus who will hold you on his lap and rock you back and forth when you’re upset. He’ll also try singing to you to make you feel better which usually results in you laughing into his chest.

Soft Sylus whose favorite place to be is by your side. He doesn’t care where he is as long as you’re there with him. Having you close to him immediately lifts his mood and makes him smile.

Soft Sylus who always gets really fidgety and nervous whenever you’re out on long missions and he can’t see or talk to you for long periods of time.

Soft Sylus who NEVER lets you pay when you go out with him. Going out to eat, shopping, anything. He won’t even listen to you when you say you can pay, he doesn’t bother himself with such trivial matters.

Soft Sylus who will casually put his arm around your waist, or cooly interlock your fingers but is 100% fangirling and freaking out in his head over it.

Soft Sylus who gives you the best princess treatment out of all of the boys ever. You’re his girl and he’s gonna treat you like it.

Bonus:

Soft Sylus who comes home smiling after an evening out with you and gives Luke and Kieran a generous bonus for being such great wingmen.

Massage

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“And the winning bid goes to Mister Sylus!” The screen announces. I turn my head away from my phone to face Sylus.

“Are you really just going to bid all night?” I ask.

“Well it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do now, kitten.” He says, standing up and tilting his head back.

“Why are you even here? Don’t you have business to attend to?” You say, also making your way off the couch.

“You didn’t book the entire hotel. I had the money and there was a vacant room.” He shrugs, avoiding your question.

You roll your eyes and make your way back to the couch to continue scrolling on your phone. Sylus does the same and rests his head on the back of the couch, slightly groaning at the stretch it gives his neck.

Noticing this you inquire, “Why do you keep stretching your neck? Do you have back problems or something?”

Sylus stands up and makes his way towards you, placing his hand on your head and tilting it down lightly. “Try leaving your head like this for hours and see how you feel afterwards kitten.”

You move his hand from your head and look up at him. “I never realized looking down at so many people would be such a problem for you. Poor thing.” You sarcastically reply, rolling your eyes at him.

Sylus doesn’t reply and instead retreats back to his seat on the couch where he continues to rub his neck.

“Ughh” he groans, rolling his head back and forth.

“Are you just gonna sit there and moan? Why don’t you take you millions to a massage chair.” You tease.

“That’s a great idea kitten, why don’t you come over here and rub my neck for me?” He smirks.

“I meant a real masseuse Sylus.” You say rolling your eyes at him.

“But you’re right here, why go through the hassle? Come on sweetie,” he pats his shoulder, “just give me a little massage, I’ll even do you afterwards if you’d like.”

Giving in to his teasing you get up and stand behind him. “Fine. But you can’t sue me if I break your neck or something…” you begin gently working your fingers on his scalp.

“Oh sweetie” he shivers. “I’d love to see you try.”

Pressing your fingers harder against his neck to really knead into his muscles, you find it harder to reach his shoulders through his sweater.

Taking note of this Sylus asks, “Having trouble sweetie? I can remove this if you’d like.” He motions to his sweater.

“N-no! It’s alright I can manage…” you mumble, flustered at his obvious flirting.

“I insist, after all what kind of masseuse would you be if you couldn’t even manage to get my shoulders?” And with that he swiftly removes the grey sweater, showing off his bare torso entirely to you.

“You’re so irritating sometimes…” you whisper, running your hands along his bare shoulders.

He doesn’t reply, instead letting out a low moan at your touch.

“Ohh right there sweetie.”

The sounds send shivers down your spine and you decide that you’d like to hear more of those sweet sounds from him.

You’re tracing your hand down his chest when all of a sudden he grabs your wrist.

“And what do you think you’re doing sweetie?”

“Nothing! I was just going to massage-“

You’re quickly cut off by him flipping you over the couch and pinning you down.

“Really, that’s the story you’re going for? If you wanted to feel me up you could’ve just asked.” He teased, grabbing your hand and running along his chest.

“What! No I- you’re the one who wanted me to massage you in the first place!” You accuse, pointing at him.

“Hmm… This is true, but I’m not the one who got carried away with my wandering touches.” He growls into your ear.

Blushing furiously, you turn your head to the side so he won’t be able to see your face. “Ok ok! Just let me up so I can finish your massage now!”

He grabs your chin and turns your face to his.

“Oh no kitten, it’s your turn now.”

Ayo tame yourself 🫵💋

making up a fic in my head with sylus × mc and in this reality their relationship is insaneee

like, please, they are so unhinged together. but imagine a slowburn where with each chapter it just goes downhill. like at first mc would undeniably call sylus a "winged freak" and they would bicker nonstop (sy loves to mess with people). and then as their relationship slowly evolves into longing it progressively gets worse because now everyone has to tolerate how bittersweet those two are.

on top of that imagine the silly nicknames. i just wish there was a fic where all the characters have to team up and by that time sylus and mc are together and everyone else is just so done with it.

if mc called sy a winged freak before now it's caleb who picked up that habit because he lowkey jealous and overprotective and sylus is having so much fun watching him fume with anger but unable to do shit because mc picked him and not caleb. and sy would smirk and use all kinds of mockery to fume caleb more. his favorite is "gear head" but, oh, "swiss army man" rocks too.

zayne trying to deescalate things and calling sylus mc's "feathered friend" to which sy snorts and responds with yet another nickname making zayne frown. because "frosty the snowman", really?? XD

rafayel who obviously called sylus "the dragon prince" more times you could count and sylus who always mocks him back with "drama queen". on rather pissy days sylus uses "merman" and it immediately makes his day 10 times better.

with xavier it's easy as day - the "sleeping beauty". even mc jokes the same and xavier doesn't mind much because he's the most calm and collected out of them all. he doesn't even have a nickname for sylus which at first weirded all out. but the way xavier says his name makes it clear he's degrading the man and sy got used to it pretty quickly and learned to distinguish between annoyed xavier and calm xavier by just his tone of voice.

and now imagine a scene where they're all together and have to team up. they can't stop bickering and mc tries to reason but sy just goes "i'm not working with your disney princess squad". because, again: xavier - sleeping beauty, zayne - elsa, rafayel - ariel. "and the ugly beast" sylus adds, staring caleb dead in the eyes with a shit eating grin.

deescalate the fight, my ass.

i just think it's really funny, i wanna do it :(

Welp. Guess I'm also going to write a summer getaway fic *:ﾟ*｡⋆ฺ(*´◡`)

Credit: @/17_jyt on Twitter

Using his own words at him😼

Hii, this is my first post i ever made here in tumblr so i hopes you like It ^^ @/snowyblanca on Twitter or insta for my other works c:

(here the reference) thank u 🩷

"His gaze softened"

his eyes never fail to make me melt🥺🥺

OMGGGG 💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺🥺

Family portrait time 💖

If he had one more crow, I'd definitely join him

Ref.

just fell to my knees

hello! good day to youuu, can i make a request for the lads men? in which reader is not the mc and here's the prompt: having to beg them to do something with you then seeing them doing it with mc willingly, sorry english is not my first language but pleaaaseeee 😭 i love some angst.

Bitter

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Watching the one you love partake in what you once pleaded to share—a quiet betrayal—feels like an arrow through the heart, swift and merciless. (angst, no comfort)

A/N: Thank you for the request, it came out more as a drabble. Hope you enjoy!

Xavier

What a bitter, gutting thing it was—to stand in the shadows and watch him shine for someone else. To see the light in his eyes, the easy laughter, the quiet devotion as he did for her what he had never done for you.

The one thing you once begged for. The one thing he had denied you.

But not her. Never her.

She was fate’s beloved, the one woven from the same celestial thread as him, bound to him in ways you never could be. You had always told yourself to be rational, to be understanding. Xavier came with a past. He came with baggage.

And inside that baggage, nestled close to his heart, was her.

The woman you would envy until the world turned to dust.

And yet—how could you ever bring yourself to hate her? When she was made of kindness, of soft edges and warm light? When she looked at you with nothing but affection, oblivious to the ruin she left in her wake? She was an angel. A blessing. A curse.

And fate, it seemed, had always been on her side.

So there they were, walking side by side, woven together so seamlessly it was almost poetic. Almost cruel. Her bags in his hands, the weight of them carried so effortlessly—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet, when you had asked for the same—just a simple day together, just a moment of his time—he had sighed, shaken his head, told you he was too tired. That work was too much. That he simply couldn’t.

But now, watching him with her, you couldn’t help but wonder—did she take his exhaustion away? Did her presence breathe new life into him in a way you never could?

The answer settled deep in your bones, cold and unrelenting.

Your friend beside you said nothing, only looking at you with that quiet, suffocating pity that made your stomach turn. Because there was nothing to say. Nothing to soften the truth you had known all along.

You were not his first thought in the morning. You were not the name on his lips when he passed a garden of wildflowers. You were not the presence lingering in his mind when the world grew quiet.

And you never would be.

You had spent so long fighting against it. Xavier loves me. He chose me. The words had been your lifeline, a fragile, trembling thing you whispered into the silence. But even your friends never seemed convinced.

And now, neither were you.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do.

You turned away.

No confrontation. No desperate pleas for an explanation that would only come laced with half-truths and empty reassurances. What good was honesty when it had never been yours to begin with?

When he came home that night, his lips still curved with the ghost of a smile, he found an emptiness he had never felt before. Your things, your presence—gone, as if you had never been there at all.

And in your place, only a single note remained.

"I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. Because clearly, it was never me."

And Xavier, poor Xavier, would stand there, reading those words over and over, grasping at the fraying edges of something he had never truly held onto.

But then again—

Xavier had never noticed his wrongdoings.

Not until there was nothing left but the weight of his own ruin.

Zayne

Zayne—or Dr. Zayne, as she called him—had always been a good man. A gentleman in every sense. Caring, affectionate, endlessly considerate.

But never for you.

His tenderness felt practiced, his affections routine. As if he wasn’t loving you, but fulfilling some unspoken obligation. A kindness given not out of devotion, but out of mere habit.

And you had tried to ignore it. Swallowed your doubts, convinced yourself you were overthinking.

Until you saw them together.

Her.

The one fate had tied him to. The one who never had to ask for his attention, because it had always belonged to her.

Her laughter lit up rooms before she even stepped inside. Her eyes gleamed like sunlight catching on water—brilliant, hypnotic, impossible to look away from. And neither could he.

And then, there was the picture.

A simple post, one she likely uploaded without a second thought, oblivious to the quiet devastation it would bring.

There she was, sitting in his office. Smiling. At ease.

Sharing lunch with him.

Something you had never been allowed to do.

You had asked once—just to drop by, to see him, to spend even a sliver of time together in the place he spent most of his days. But he had refused, brushing you off with a gentle but firm, “I don’t want distractions.”

And yet, there she was, sitting across from him, urging him to eat the food she had made, as if she had every right to be there. And maybe she did.

They had known each other forever. That was what you told yourself—Of course, they’re close. Of course, they understand each other in ways I never will. You had tried to accept it. To be understanding.

But then you saw the way he looked at her in the picture.

The softness in his eyes. The quiet, unguarded devotion.

Like she was the only one who could unravel him, the only one who could slip past his carefully built walls.

You had spent so long trying to do the same, but you never even made a crack.

And so, that was the moment you made a promise to yourself.

You would not be someone’s second choice. You would not collect the scraps of his affection while she—effortless, radiant, destined—was given everything you had ever wanted.

And Zayne noticed.

He noticed in the silence. In the missed calls that went unanswered, the messages left on read. In the bouquets left wilting at your doorstep, the petals curling at the edges.

Roses.

Her favorite flowers.

Not yours.

And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Zayne was never the gentleman you thought he was.

Or perhaps, he was. Just never for you.

Or maybe—maybe it was fate itself that was cruel.

Rafayel

Something inside you cracked, splintering like fragile seashells beneath careless hands—shattered beyond repair, beyond mending.

It wasn’t a sudden break. No, it had been slow, creeping in like the tide, eroding the edges of your love bit by bit, pulling pieces of you away before you could even notice you were unraveling.

And now, the final wave had come, and it had taken everything with it.

Because there he was—your Rafayel—kneeling beside her, smiling in a way you had longed to be the cause of.

The sight alone stole the breath from your lungs.

You had spent so long pretending not to notice. Ignoring the way his gaze always sought her out, the way his voice softened just a fraction when he spoke to her. You had swallowed the ache, told yourself it didn’t matter.

"That’s just the way he is," you had whispered, time and time again.

But it had never been the way he was.

It had only ever been the way he was with you.

And now, you knew why.

Rafayel hated cats.

You remembered the way his nose had scrunched when you had once tried to feed a stray by the docks, the way he had flicked his fingers as if to ward the creature away. “Little beasts,” he had muttered, half-amused, half-disgusted. “I don’t understand how you humans tolerate them.”

You had laughed then, nudging him playfully. “You’re just jealous they’re cuter than you.”

And yet—here he was.

Crouched beside her, cradling a trembling kitten in careful, delicate hands, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His touch—usually teasing, fleeting, always just out of reach—was steady, warm, tender.

For her.

Not for you.

Something cold curled around your ribs, sinking deep, making it harder to breathe.

It was never about the kitten.

It was never about the things he couldn’t do.

It was about the things he never wanted to do for you.

And watching him now, so unguarded, so effortlessly kind, made you wish you had never met him at all.

Rage and sorrow burned through your veins, curling beneath your skin like a sickness. You wanted to rip that stupidly charming smile from his face, wanted to demand why he had never looked at you like that.

But there was no point.

So you turned and walked away.

Ignoring reality, just as you had once tried to ignore fate.

But fate never ignored you.

And something in the air told you—Rafayel wouldn’t either.

Sylus

Sylus had never been an easy man to love.

Sharp edges, cold precision—every move calculated, every word spoken with intent. He was not a man swayed by sentiment, nor was he one to entertain trivial affections.

You had known this from the start.

And yet, knowing had never stopped you from wanting.

So you learned to take what little he gave you—stolen moments in the dead of night, whispered conversations where he let the ice thaw just enough for you to believe there was something beneath it. But always, always, he kept his distance, his affections measured, restrained.

"This is who I am," he had told you once, when you asked why he never let himself soften. "I don’t have the luxury of being gentle."

You had believed him.

Until now.

Until you saw him, standing there in the dim glow of a high-rise restaurant, his head tilted ever so slightly toward her. The woman fate had written into his story, the one whose presence seemed to unravel him in ways you never could.

His fated one.

And in front of them, two untouched glasses of wine.

Wine.

The very thing he had refused to share with you.

"I don’t drink with others," he had said once, his voice clipped, final. "It's a pleasure reserved for my time alone."

But now, here he was. Sharing a glass with her. His fingers resting idly against the stem of his glass, his expression unreadable yet undeniably present. He was here. Fully. With her.

A man who never entertained distractions, utterly enthralled.

The way he looked at her—it was something different. Something you had never been granted. There was no calculation in his gaze, no careful restraint. No cold, distant amusement.

Just quiet acceptance. As if she had been meant to sit beside him all along.

And that was when you knew.

You could tear yourself apart, try to become everything he had ever wanted, and it still wouldn’t matter. Because fate had already made the choice for him.

And it wasn’t you.

Still, you lingered a moment longer, letting the pain settle, letting it carve its lesson deep into your ribs.

And then, without a word, you turned and left.

Because you, too, could learn to be cold.

Caleb

Caleb had always been warm. That was the problem.

He had a way of making you believe you belonged there—tucked into his arms, held close by quiet promises and easy smiles. He made you think you mattered.

But there was always her.

His childhood best friend.

Not bound by fate, not chosen by some cosmic force—just there. Always. In every story he told, in every old memory that made his eyes soften with something you could never quite reach. The one who had been with him before you, the one who had held his hand through storms you’d never even known existed.

And you told yourself it wasn’t a competition.

Until the night you saw them.

The neon lights of the karaoke bar cast the whole street in a soft glow, music and laughter spilling from inside as you walked past—until something, someone, made your steps falter.

Through the open doors, past the booths and glowing screens, you saw him.

Caleb.

Standing there, microphone in hand, singing.

With her.

The sight knocked the breath from your lungs.

"I don’t like singing in front of people," he had told you once, shaking his head with a sheepish smile when you begged him to join you for just one song. "It’s embarrassing. I just—I can’t, okay?"

But now, here he was.

Swaying slightly, smiling as their voices blended together in a song you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t perfect—his voice cracked in places, he missed a beat or two—but that didn’t matter. Because he was trying. Because he was enjoying it.

Because she made him feel safe enough to do what he had never done for you.

Your stomach twisted.

It had never been about singing.

It had been about you.

You should have walked away then. Should have swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back, should have spared yourself the cruel spectacle of watching them.

But you didn’t.

You stayed long enough to see the way he laughed when she nudged him playfully. The way he looked at her, unguarded, free. The way she reached for his hand without hesitation—because she knew it would always be there, waiting for her.

And for the first time, you realized—maybe you had never been holding his hand at all. Maybe you had only been grasping at the space he left behind.

Something cold settled in your chest.

You didn’t wait for him to notice you.

You just turned, and left, without a sound.

And Caleb, too caught up in a song meant for someone else, never even saw you go.

Spa day with dragon sylus

(As I impatiently wait for his new card)