sylusbrooch

[sylusbrooch]

"Love and Deepspace is a gooner game"

perhaps it is. lord knows there are those who do goon to the LIs. do i care? nah. i know my girlies goon respectfully. anygays, i just want to get this off m chest. im no longer a Sylus main because im finally admitting to myself that Zayne and Sylus are now equal in my heart so im a snowcrow main now haha

i joined lads because i saw a tiktok edit about Sylus. i got curious and downloaded the game on laptop (currently using ldplayer) because my phone in incompatible. i started early January this year, just a few days after new years and probably a week before Caleb's release(or resurrection). and let me tell you, i havent dropped this game ever since. i check in everyday except when im sick. i deleted my flo when the period tracker was released and my boyfriends/now husbands accompany me everytime i study (i kid you not theyre always on the background)

i downloaded for Sylus and im staying for Snowcrow. i can rant about Sylus for days but im currently writing this for Mr. Li hhaha.

admittedly, i havent been taking good care of myself since the pandemic. something in me just stopped. i ate more than i used to, i stay in my room, i gained weight, started bad habits, lost interests in my hobbies.

but ever since the Death and Rebirth update, something in me changed. now see, im a nursing student. ill be in my 3rd year now next month. ive already started my clinical duties last year and let me tell you, i was crying every time i go home. i go to my duties and everyone expects me to be a miracle worker. with the main story update, i really felt Greyson's and Yvonne's frustrations with handling patients, so much so that i cried during that scene because i felt it, i lived through it and will continue to live it for as long as i stay on this course. im not going to quit nursing because like Zayne, i signed up for this demanding course to be able to care for those people i love.

recently, i finally had some time to watch ms. lavender's (yeah the youtuber) update on Zayne's Morning Drift card (i have no money screw me). the entire card was cute as hell but it was an eye opener for me too. because of that card, i started going on uphill walks and eating healthier. i started taking care of myself now - lessen carbonated drinks, study healthier, more walks outside. ironically, a game has made me take care of myself. now after years of being stagnant, im pushing to be a better version of myself. perhaps it is a gooner game. but for me, it's a wake up call to be better. perhaps to be an MC that the LIs can brag about. receipts:

[sylusbrooch]

Hehe

my writing inspiration came back so new chapters yay

[sylusbrooch]

You and Me Against the World

Previous

They threw me in like trash.

The gate slammed shut behind me, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

The arena felt bigger without him. The sand stretched farther. The shadows reached longer. Even the roar of the crowd sounded distant, like I was underwater.

Then the other gate opened.

They sent three.

Three S-rank Wanderers.

Massive, glistening things—bone and sinew and spikes where their mouths should’ve been. Their eyes weren’t even eyes, just dark pits that reflected nothing. The kind of monsters they never gave us without a partner. The kind they used for executions.

I was twelve.

I had never been more alone.

The one on the left moved first, a twitch of muscle that became a full charge in half a heartbeat. I barely dodged, rolling sideways in the sand, ribs aching as they slammed into the ground beneath me. Claws carved the space where I’d stood seconds before.

I sprang to my feet. My body screamed in protest.

Sylus isn’t here. There’s no backup. If you die, you die.

The second one came at me from the side. I ducked under the swinging tail, grabbed hold of a jutting bone as it passed, and used its own momentum to vault onto its back.

It shrieked—high and unnatural. I slammed my elbow into its exposed neck joint, again, again, until something cracked under the pressure. It bucked, throwing me hard into the sand.

My shoulder hit first.

The crunch wasn’t from the ground.

White-hot pain exploded down my arm. I couldn’t move it. Couldn’t even scream.

But I got up anyway.

Blood in my mouth. Ribs bruised. One arm useless. And still two monsters left.

The second one was crawling toward me now, wounded but not dead. Its front limb dragged uselessly behind it, but its mouth still snapped wide open—jaws peeling back like wet paper.

I Resonated.

I called the energy I’d stored from Sylus’s Evol—traces still clinging to my cells like heat after fire—and pushed it into my legs.

I ran.

Faster than I’d ever moved alone. The sand blurred beneath me.

I leapt, using a jagged piece of bone stuck in the arena floor as a springboard, and came down on the second monster with a scream and my entire body’s weight.

My knee drove straight through its skull.

The crack echoed.

It spasmed beneath me, then went still.

My chest heaved. My shoulder throbbed with every pulse of my heart. I tasted iron.

The third one waited.

It was watching me.

Smart. It’s smart.

It circled slowly, crouching low—predator low.

I felt the tremor in my knees. Felt the way my left arm hung limp at my side. I could barely hold a stance.

“Come on,” I whispered. “Come on, you bastard…”

It moved like lightning. Fast. Too fast.

Claws raked across my thigh as I jumped back—late. Flesh tore. The pain didn’t even register right away, just a hot, wet ripping that made me stumble. I fell.

It loomed over me.

I Resonated again. Pulled what little energy I had left and pushed it into my palm.

I threw it up.

A pulse of pure force exploded between us—raw, desperate, uncontrolled. It staggered, howled, its chest cavity searing with the blow.

I got up, screaming through the pain. My leg nearly buckled. I used my knee, then my elbow, then my broken shoulder like a battering ram, over and over again until the thing cracked, until it broke, until it stopped moving.

Then I collapsed.

The world tilted.

Blood pooled beneath me—my own, I thought. Too much. It felt like too much.

The crowd roared.

I didn’t hear it.

All I could hear was my own heartbeat. Loud. Slow. Fading.

They pulled me out on a stretcher.

My arm was dislocated. My thigh needed stitches. My ribs were bruised—maybe cracked. I couldn’t open my right eye, not from any hit, but from crying too long without anyone noticing.

They didn’t bring Sylus.

Not yet.

They wanted me to suffer through this alone.

I laid in the infirmary cot, swaddled in bloodied linen, breathing shallow. Every part of me ached.

But I lived.

I lived.

And I swore to myself—

Never again without him.

Never again.

yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[sylusbrooch]

The Silence Between Us

Prologue Caleb Xavier Rafayel Zayne Sylus 1 2 3 4(Currently)

The gardens were quieter than usual, trimmed neatly in the aftermath of yesterday’s rain. Blossoms spilled from trellises in trembling whites and violets, and yet their beauty did little to soothe the stilted air between Zayne and me.

We strolled side by side, a pace slower than usual. His hands were behind his back, posture too straight, like he was standing at inspection. And I… I was fidgeting with the cuff of my sleeve, pretending not to notice how rigid he’d become.

"You're walking like you’ve got a sword up your back," I said lightly, nudging his shoulder with mine.

Zayne blinked down at me, caught off-guard. “Habit,” he muttered. “Too many years of drilling it in.”

I hummed. “Not enough years being human, then?”

He gave a faint snort. It was barely a sound, but enough to warm the edge of my smile.

Still, the silence returned—tight and heavy. For all the years between us, for all the stolen childhood days along the cliffs of the West, we walked like strangers performing a memory.

I stopped walking, glancing briefly over my shoulder. Two guards stood at a distance, discreet, loyal. A gardener hummed as he clipped the hydrangeas. No one else. No one close enough to hear.

"Zayne," I said carefully. "What’s really going on?"

He kept walking a few paces before realizing I’d stopped. When he turned to face me, his expression was unreadable—carefully blank, the same face he must wear before delivering judgment as Duke of the North.

I stepped closer. "Why the summons to the North? Why Caleb? Why Xavier? Why now?"

Zayne's eyes searched mine. There was no cruelty in them, only a deep, slow-burning reluctance.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said finally, softly. “Too soon, maybe.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

I was about to demand more when he asked suddenly, “Do you still pray? To the old gods?”

I blinked. “What?”

He didn’t elaborate. Just stood there, watching me like my answer might shift the sky itself.

I gave a confused, hesitant laugh. “I haven’t set foot in a temple since I was thirteen. And the old gods… no one worships them anymore, Zayne. Not seriously.”

“But you remember them?”

I paused. “Astra. God of fate and destiny. Nysa, goddess of sea and sleep. Eron, keeper of the gates.”

His mouth twitched—neither a smile nor a frown. Just something haunted.

“Why are you asking?”

He didn’t respond.

A breeze brushed between us, carrying with it the scent of lavender and the distant ringing of bells from the temple square.

I stepped forward, about to press him again—but his gaze had shifted. Closed again. Walls up. The moment had passed.

And whatever truth he carried behind those quiet, glacier-blue eyes… it would not be mine today.

Previous filler chapter haha add more mystery ig?

[sylusbrooch]

What the Flames Forgot

LaDs in Dance of Dragons! au have fun!

The rain hadn’t started yet, but I could smell it.

It lingered just above the stone—cold and metallic, like wet steel. The sea wind had followed us from Driftmark, curling through the Red Keep’s open windows and whispering things no one wanted to hear. The lords and ladies cloaked themselves in silks and smiles, pretending it didn’t matter that the King was choosing another wife. Pretending the last one hadn’t died screaming.

I wasn’t supposed to be wandering.

I was meant to be sitting in a solar with my sister Laena, listening to a septa drone on about The Seven-Pointed Star while courtiers argued over which braids would flatter her best. But Laena didn’t need my help. She was already radiant—graceful, tall, born for court.

And I was... not.

I was the youngest daughter of the Sea Snake and the Queen Who Never Was, a child born of salt and flame, and the shadow of older, brighter stars. My sister was the future—beautiful, poised, and betrothed in whispers before her twelfth name day. I was still being reminded to wear shoes.

So I slipped away, wandering down lesser halls where the Red Keep forgot to polish itself. The kind of corridors where dust still held the memory of boots, and the silence felt older than the stones.

I turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.

He didn’t move, only glanced down as I stumbled back, catching myself on the wall. He stood with one shoulder resting against the archway, tall and angular beneath a black and red cloak. The torchlight caught the mess of silver hair falling over his brow, and the gleam of violet eyes that studied me like I was something written in a language only he could read.

Sylus Targaryen.

You didn’t need a herald for Sylus. You just noticed him—and tried not to be noticed back.

He tilted his head slightly. “Little early to be wandering the halls barefoot, isn’t it?”

“I’m not lost,” I said, straightening.

“I never said you were.”

I hesitated. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Walking,” he echoed, tone bone-dry. “Same as you. Only I remembered my shoes.”

I cursed inwardly. I hadn’t meant to leave them behind. Again.

“I wanted air,” I said instead. “The court smells like perfume and old lies.”

That made him huff a breath—amusement, maybe. Or agreement.

“Rhaenys’s youngest, aren’t you?” he asked, finally pushing off the wall. “You’re the sister.”

“Laena’s,” I said. “Yes.”

His eyes flicked across me like he was measuring something that couldn’t be tallied with height or weight.

“They say your blood runs deep,” he murmured. “Salt and fire both.”

“I bleed like anyone else,” I said. “And so does she.”

His mouth tilted at the corner. “You don’t sound impressed.”

“I’m not here to be,” I answered.

Sylus stepped closer, not quite invading space, but owning it. He had the presence of a blade—sharp, quiet, and certain it would be felt.

“They’re dressing her now,” he said. “Tying her into silks, combing her hair, sweetening her breath with mint leaves. All for a King who still grieves the last woman he crowned.”

“She doesn’t mind,” I said. “She knows what’s expected.”

“And you?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

I met his gaze. “I expect very little.”

The silence stretched. Somewhere down the hall, a guard’s footsteps rang off stone, distant and fading.

Sylus studied me like I was a map he hadn’t decided whether to read or burn.

“Strange thing,” he said finally. “To be a dragon’s daughter and still sound like you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding,” I said.

“No. Just barefoot in shadowed halls, walking nowhere in particular.” He tilted his head. “You’re not like your sister.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

He smiled faintly, like that amused him more than anything else.

Then, with a glance down at my bare feet and a soft, dry laugh, he turned.

“You should wear shoes,” he said over his shoulder. “Stone doesn’t care whose blood it drinks.”

And just like that, he was gone, cloak whispering behind him like a secret.

I stood there a little longer before I turned back—toward Laena, toward the gold and silk and the pageantry of choosing.

But I didn’t walk quickly.

hehehehe i got an itch to write after watching a tiktok. hope you like it! the others will be introduced slowly

[sylusbrooch]

new inspiration?

suddenly i want to write a GoT!au LaDS bcause i saw a tiktok about what Houses they might be in and my hands are itching ahhhhhhhh imagine dragon-ridding MC in House Velaryon? deadass i want Rhaenys as my mother hahaha

[sylusbrooch]

wallpaper

just wanted to share the laptop wallpaper i made with canva hahaha its of my top 3

[sylusbrooch]

You and Me Against the World

Previous Next

The cold always came first. Before the pain. Before the fear.

It crawled in through the cracks of the stone floor beneath me, settling in my spine like a warning. I was used to waking in the dark, in this half-silence that never quite promised peace. But this time, something was wrong.

I opened my eyes and immediately felt it.

Bootsteps.

Too many.

“Up.”

The voice was rough. One of the Wardens—Torran, maybe. I’d stopped keeping track of their names. They didn’t deserve to be remembered.

A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me upright before I could fully register where I was. I’d been lying on the floor. My back sore. My head against Sylus’s shoulder.

He stirred the moment I was pulled away. “What’s happening?”

“Another match,” the Warden barked. “Time to work, girl.”

Sylus sat up, already rolling his shoulders, his expression unreadable—trained and sharp like always. “I’m ready.”

“You’re not coming.”

The words dropped like stones in a quiet pond.

Sylus stilled.

“What?”

“She fights solo this time,” the Warden replied, with a grin I wanted to claw off his face. “New orders from the Administrator. Says she needs to prove her worth.”

I felt my blood drain. My legs suddenly too heavy, too small.

“No,” Sylus said quickly, already rising to his feet. “No. She doesn’t fight alone. We’re a pair. That’s the rule. That’s always been the rule.”

“Rules change.” The second Warden grabbed Sylus’s arm, but he shoved him off. “She fights. You stay.”

I took a step back toward him, but one of them gripped my wrist tight.

“Sylus—” My voice cracked. I hadn’t meant it to.

He lunged.

He actually lunged, fist glowing red, energy rippling down his arm like fire licking through cracks in stone. Three Wardens tackled him down instantly. His Evol sparked against their suppressor cuffs—red light bursting and dying in a blink.

“You bastards! Let go of me!” he roared.

“Let him go!” I shouted back, struggling against the grip on my arm. “I can’t—!”

“You’re not sending her out there alone,” Sylus snarled, voice breaking beneath the weight of desperation. “I’ll fight. I’ll take her match. Add more monsters, I don’t care—take me instead!”

The Warden holding him laughed and drove a boot into Sylus’s side. “You don’t get to make trades, pretty boy.”

Sylus coughed hard. Spit blood. Still tried to get up.

“You cowards!” I screamed. “You can’t separate us! He’s—he’s—”

I couldn’t even say what he was to me.

Because I didn’t know. Because I didn’t have words for it. Because this place had beaten most words out of us already.

They dragged me toward the gate.

Sylus kept fighting. Kept reaching. Even as they chained him down.

“Don’t go!” he shouted. “Don’t go out there without me!”

I fought every step. Nails digging into the floor, heels scraping stone, vision blurred with tears I didn’t remember choosing to cry. I turned my head, twisting, trying to keep his face in sight for as long as I could.

His red eyes locked with mine across the dark. Burning. Breaking.

“I’ll come back!” I screamed. “I’ll come back, Sylus, I promise—”

“Don’t die!” His voice cracked raw. “If you die, I’ll kill every damn one of them!”

The gate slammed shut between us.

The chains around my wrists bit down.

And I knew—I knew—this wasn’t just another round.

This was the first time I would have to survive without him.

hehe

[sylusbrooch]

Storms Beneath Still Water

Prologue Caleb's Part Xavier's Part Rafayel's Part Zayne's Part Sylus's Part 1 2 3(Currently)

The gates of our estate loomed tall against the afternoon sky, as familiar as the rhythm of my own heartbeat.

It should have felt like home.

But even as the servants bowed low and the guards opened the iron-wrought doors, I knew I was only a guest here now. A ghost passing through the corridors of my childhood.

“You should not be going,” my grandmother said, her voice clipped like the heels of her boots against the marble. She stood at the top of the grand staircase, her silver hair pulled into a crown braid, eyes sharp as ever.

I didn’t answer right away. I watched the golden light pour in from the open windows, stretching long across the marble. I had missed this view.

“It’s the Crown Prince’s decree,” I finally said. “Refusing would be... unwise.”

Duchess Josephine of the West huffed. “It’s not the King I fear, child. It’s what they’ll turn you into when you step into their games again.”

Her words struck a note too deep, too true. But she said nothing more. Her disapproval was a constant—sharp, but not immovable. She turned with a sweep of her deep green skirts and left me to the silence of the estate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The courtyard was just as I left it.

The stone floor still bore the faint burn marks from when I first tried to conjure wind and fire as a child. I had left my name here in ash and sky. And now, I would carve new stories into the stone.

I took up the staff first—its weight familiar in my palms, balanced perfectly for my height. I spun it, low and then high, sweeping through the warm air with focused breath. The wind stirred at my call, whistling between the hedges and the bannered walls.

Then the sword. Faster. Sharper.

Steel sang in rhythm with my pulse, and sweat traced a path down my back. With every strike, I remembered what it felt like to be free. Not a noble’s daughter. Not an heir. Just someone who could shape the world with her will.

“You still lean too far forward when you spin,” came a voice behind me.

I turned, breathless, and saw Caleb standing in the archway, arms folded, a small grin curling his lips.

I snorted. “You still announce your critiques like an old knight in a library.”

He walked toward me, shrugging off his coat to reveal a training vest beneath. “You’re welcome to test if I’m wrong.”

I tossed him a wooden blade. “Fine. Let’s see if your mouth matches your reflexes.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The clash of swords echoed through the courtyard.

Caleb was fast, sharper than he’d been years ago—but he still fought like the boy I grew up with. Strategic. Loyal. Predictable only to me. We fell into rhythm like it was muscle memory, and maybe it was.

“You’ve gotten better,” he said, grinning as I disarmed him once.

“You’ve gotten cockier,” I retorted, breath short.

He leaned close—too close. “Maybe I’m just more confident now that you’re finally back where you belong.”

My heart stuttered—not because of the words, but because of the way he said them.

Possession wrapped in warmth. Devotion laced with something harder.

I stepped back, avoiding the look in his eyes.

Then a voice interrupted.

“Wow, this is getting spicy. Should I come back later?”

We both turned. Rafayel sat atop the outer wall, legs dangling lazily, a seashell in one hand, the other toying with a floating orb of water.

His grin was all mischief, but his eyes were watching—always watching.

“Is this the part where you throw swords at each other or kiss?” he asked with mock thoughtfulness. “Because I could really go for either.”

Caleb’s jaw clenched. “Do you always eavesdrop?”

Rafayel yawned. “Only when it gets dramatic. You wouldn’t believe how boring fish can be compared to this.” His gaze flicked to me. “You look good, by the way. All flushed and dangerous.”

“Leave,” Caleb said.

Rafayel grinned wider. “Make me.”

Tension sparked like flint.

I sighed and raised a hand, wind sweeping through the courtyard with enough force to ruffle both their hair and tempers.

“Children,” I muttered. “This is why I train alone.”

But even as Rafayel winked and vanished in a whirl of mist, and Caleb returned to his blade with a little too much force, I felt the shift.

There were storms building beneath the surface. And I was the eye. The center.

And I wasn’t sure how long it would stay quiet.

Previous Next

Sorry I took so long i just downloaded Sims 4 anadius and now i have LaDS men as my romantic partners/fiancee (im still trying to figure out if poly marriage is available in sims)

[sylusbrooch]

You and Me Against the World

Previous Next

The gates groaned open, and for once, I didn't feel the usual tight coil of anticipation in my chest.

Just dread.

I stepped into the arena beside Sylus, the sun white and merciless above us. The sand still reeked of blood from the last match—fresh, thick, metallic. But something was wrong. The scent of Wanderer wasn’t in the air.

Only sweat. And fear.

Across from us, the opposite gate opened. I expected fangs, claws, that low growl that always made the crowd go wild. Instead—

Two kids. Maybe thirteen. A girl with a split lip and a wooden staff. A boy with burn scars running down his arm, clutching a dented sword like it was a lifeline.

Sylus went still beside me. I didn’t have to look to know he’d already seen it too. No monsters. Just them.

Then came the Administrator’s voice, crackling from the tower like static and sin.

“Today’s match... is special. A test of will. Of desperation. Of survival. Last pair standing wins.”

The crowd roared.

I froze. “They’re not serious. They’re not—”

“They are,” Sylus said quietly, too quietly.

I turned to him, eyes wide. “We can’t— They’re like us.”

“They’ll still try to kill us.”

I looked back just in time to see the girl raise her staff and whisper something to the boy. His hands trembled. His eyes didn’t.

They charged.

“Wait!” I shouted, stepping forward, hands raised. “You don’t have to—! We don’t want to fight—”

But they weren’t listening.

The boy lunged for Sylus first. His blade sparked off Sylus’s arm as energy flared too late, leaving a gash across his bicep. Blood sprayed.

“SYLUS!”

He staggered, snarling, eyes already lighting up like fire behind a storm. I ran forward, caught the staff as it came down toward my head, twisted it hard and kicked the girl back—but not too hard. Not enough to break anything. Not yet.

I looked back. Sylus was cradling his arm, glaring at me.

“They drew blood,” he said darkly. “That was their choice.”

“They were scared.”

“Good. Fear makes them hesitate. You don’t.”

Something in me cracked then. A sound I’d never heard from Sylus before—a grunt of pain. Real pain. And rage.

I stopped holding back.

My Evol pulsed to life, pulling his energy into me like it had always belonged there. The hurt. The heat. The fury. My skin burned with it, my limbs moved like lightning, my breath felt like thunder in my throat.

They weren’t monsters, no.

But I became one.

I struck first—hard enough to knock the boy’s blade from his hand. He stumbled back and Sylus was on him instantly, eyes glowing, energy surging through his palms as he slammed the boy into the ground, too fast for mercy.

The girl screamed. I didn’t want to kill her.

But she reached for her staff again.

And I didn’t hesitate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sand was quiet when it ended. Blood seeped into the arena floor like ink in water. The crowd chanted our names.

I dropped the staff. My hands were shaking.

Sylus stood beside me, shoulder still bleeding, chest rising and falling fast.

“You tried,” he said, not unkindly.

I nodded. Swallowed the acid in my throat. “They didn’t have a choice.”

“Neither did we.”

We walked back toward the gate. The cheers grew louder. My stomach turned.

Sylus didn't look back. But he said, softly, “Next time, don’t warn them. That’s the kindest thing you can do.”

I didn’t answer.

But I wasn’t sure if he was right.

And that scared me more than the fight.

[sylusbrooch]

You and Me Against the World

inspired by the gladiator backstory hehe this is my take of it

Next

It hurt to breathe.

A sharp pain flared every time my lungs expanded, like something was lodged beneath my ribs—jagged and wrong. I curled tighter into myself, pressed against the cold wall of the holding cell. Blood soaked the torn fabric around my waist, seeping slow from the gash the monster’s claw had left just above my hip.

They hadn’t even cleaned the arena yet. I could still hear the crowd screaming for the next fight. For someone else’s suffering.

Footsteps. Fast. Heavy.

I tensed, expecting one of the wardens. But it was Sylus.

Of course it was Sylus.

“Idiot,” he muttered as soon as he saw me. “You didn’t dodge.”

“I did.” My voice came out a whisper. “Just not fast enough.”

He crouched beside me, silver hair falling into his eyes, streaked with grime and dried blood that wasn’t all his. He looked furious—but not at me. Not exactly.

“You were supposed to wait for me to draw it out,” he said, tearing open a small white packet. My eyes widened.

“Is that...?”

“First aid kit,” he snapped. “I cashed in thirty points.”

“Thirty?! That’s—”

“Shut up.” He was already tearing the seal open with his teeth, fingers shaking as he pulled out gauze, a needle, antiseptic. “You were bleeding. What did you want me to do? Wait until your lungs collapsed?”

I bit back a groan as he peeled the fabric back from my wound. His hands hovered, and for a second, he hesitated—Sylus Qin, who never hesitated.

“You’re too soft,” I said, trying to sound like him. Cold. Unbothered.

He didn’t look at me. “And you’re too reckless.”

The antiseptic burned worse than the claws. I hissed and nearly doubled over, but he held me still—one arm around my shoulders, the other pressing the gauze against my side. There was pressure in his grip. Pressure and heat. His Evol was active, flickering like a spark beneath his skin.

“I can match it,” I breathed, my fingers brushing his wrist. My Evol trembled just beneath the surface—Resonance—a whisper ready to rise.

“No,” he said instantly, tone steel. “You’re too weak. If you match my energy now, you’ll burn your own out.”

“I can do it,” I insisted.

He finally met my gaze. His red eyes were glowing, just slightly—but enough to let me know he meant what he said next.

“Not now. You don’t get to prove something to me while you’re half-dead.”

There was something terrifying in how gently he wrapped the bandage, how quiet he went. I realized, in that stillness, that Sylus wasn’t just angry. He was afraid.

“I’ll earn the points back,” he muttered, voice low. “I’ll take the next match solo. Just... don’t die. That’s not allowed.”

“Sylus—”

He stood quickly, like the words made him uncomfortable. “Rest. Heal.”

I watched his back as he walked to the bars. His posture was straight. Confident. Already planning the next move. But I knew him too well.

He only walked like that when he was breaking inside.

I rested my head against the wall, the bandage warm with fresh blood, and whispered into the empty air between us:

“I didn’t dodge because I was protecting you.”

He didn’t answer.

But I saw his hand curl into a fist.

i was in a silly mood hehehe

[sylusbrooch]

The Decree and the Depths

Xavier’s presence was like a stray wind in a sealed vault—quiet, but entirely wrong.

I stood still, uncertain if I’d wandered into a dream or some masterfully orchestrated trap. The Crown Prince sat with impeccable posture, his silver hair catching the light of Sylus’s molten lanterns. He regarded me with the same unreadable calm I remembered from the market—expressionless, yet somehow expectant.

"You seem well," he said evenly.

I blinked. "You’re in a sovereign city the crown doesn’t recognize. Aren’t you... trespassing?"

Sylus let out a low chuckle behind me, arms folding as he leaned against the doorframe. "The prince is a habitual wanderer. Turns up in all sorts of places he shouldn’t."

“I like Sylus’s tea,” Xavier interrupted. “It’s strong. Honest.”

That answer somehow felt more suspicious than reassuring.

“You do realize you’re sitting in a seat of rebellion?”

Xavier tilted his head, considering. “Technically, it’s a chair.”

“I think I hate you.”

He blinked, expression unchanged. “You’re not the first.”

Sylus chuckled darkly and moved past me to pour himself a drink.

Xavier rose with a rustle of his deep navy robes and pulled a sealed envelope from his sleeve. The wax bore the sigil of the royal family.

“For you,” he said, handing it over without ceremony.

I broke the seal, reading silently. My heart began to pound.

“By order of the Crown and in strategic alignment with the interests of the Kingdom of Philos, the Lady of the West shall depart in one month’s time to accompany General Caleb Xia, Duke Zayne Li, and Crown Prince Xavier Xinghue to the Northern front. Her insight and presence are deemed vital.”

The paper might as well have turned to ice in my hands. I looked up, stunned.

“The North?” I said. “What’s happening?”

Xavier’s gaze flicked briefly to Sylus, then back to me. “There’s been... movement. Disturbances the crown cannot ignore. It’s not yet public, and likely won’t be. But we’ll need eyes we trust.”

A single pause followed.

"And you trust me?" I asked flatly.

His lips twitched—just slightly. “You’re... inconvenient, but reliable.”

That sounded suspiciously like a compliment.

Before I could question further, Xavier adjusted the collar of his robe. “That’s all I came to deliver.”

"And the rest?" I asked. “Why are you really here?”

He didn’t answer. He simply sipped from his tea once more, then placed the cup neatly on the table.

“Nice tea,” he said to Sylus, and with a nod to me, strode out.

I waited until the heavy doors shut behind him before turning to Sylus. “Why is the Crown Prince sharing tea with a man exiled from the kingdom?”

He smirked, but there was less humor this time. “Truth is heavy, Lady West. You'll hear it soon. But first…”

He motioned for me to follow him down a narrower hall lit by pulsing amber lanterns. As we walked, the warmth faded. The stone grew damp. The hum of the city dulled into silence.

We passed a guard who wore no uniform, only scales along his arms and a solemn nod in greeting. Then Sylus opened a door carved with obsidian runes and led me into the hidden underground.

The air hit first—cold, sterile, and metallic.

It was a vast chamber lit by glowing veins of crystal embedded in the walls. They pulsed with a sickly blue hue, casting eerie shadows across a scene I was not prepared for.

People—Onychinians—sat or lay on metal slabs. Some stirred weakly. Others were unconscious. But all bore strange marks across their bodies: crystallization. Glimmering shards encased their arms, chests, throats—some curling up their jaws like creeping vines.

One child coughed, and I saw flickers of flame burst uncontrollably from their mouth before they collapsed.

"What is this?" I whispered.

Sylus didn’t answer immediately. He walked slowly among them, nodding once to a woman who bent over a patient, chanting in a language I didn’t recognize.

“These are those infected,” he said finally. “We’ve contained it so far. But…”

I caught a sharp gasp from the corner. A boy—no older than ten—seized violently, the crystals across his body flashing in warning. His screams rose sharply—then morphed into a shriek.

I stepped forward instinctively, but Sylus held out an arm.

The boy’s body twisted. Bones cracked. The crystals ruptured—and where once a child had lain, now stood something monstrous.

A Wanderer.

It shrieked again—inhuman, broken—and lunged.

It never made it to me.

One of Sylus’s guards struck it down with precision, a blade of blackened fire through the core. The creature fell in a cascade of shattering crystal.

I stared in horror.

"This is what they become?" I asked, voice low.

Sylus nodded. "We don’t know how or why. But it’s spreading."

“Then why show me this?”

He looked at me, eyes sharper than obsidian. “Because you asked what’s happening. And soon, you’ll need to decide where you stand.”

I didn’t speak as he led me back through the tunnels. The quiet clink of chains, the distant cries, and the hollow pulse of crystal lingered in my ears long after we left the chamber.

And in my mind, the memory of a child turned monster echoed louder than any decree.

Previous Next heeeelllllllllloooooooooooo sorry for not updating for a long time i honestly had no idea how to progress the story until the new update (yes, the new depressing update. my heart cannot huhuhuhu)

[sylusbrooch]

I luv luv how you write your stories. Idk if you watched the kdrama when life gives you tangerines cuz I just finished it and it made me bawl my eyes out of every episode. There was this one scene in there that husband said to his wife that when they get old he hopes that she dies first and she teases him saying why is it so you could be with another woman. He responds to her saying he wants to send her off with a beautiful and proper burial that she deserves and would eventually join her. That scene made me so sad. It got me thinking what if you said something similar to the LADS men instead of saying they die first you hope that you would die first cuz you couldn’t live without them and wouldn’t know what to do without them by your side. Specifically Zayne and Sylus cuz they are my favs. I’d believe they’d be a bit upset and they would tell you they don’t want to hear that nonsense cuz they can’t imagine when that time comes they have to be without you that’s how much they love you. Sorry if it’s a bit much and you don’t want to write it. Thank you for your time though.😭💗

Note: I think this is the cutest and saddest thing ever. I haven’t watched a drama is so long, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about this one! The last one I saw was Happiness and it’s was 1000/10, sooo good. Also, I only did Sylus and Zayne since you said they were your favs, but if you’d like the rest of the guys, just let me know! I hope you enjoy, luvly!

Creds to @/enchanthings for the dividers!

Warning: Mentions of dying

Zayne

It’s one of those rare days where your boyfriend is actually free for lunch. When he called you an hour ago to let you know that you could come by if you’d like, you instantly got ready and went out to buy some food from one his favorite places.

You always missed him, especially on days where you were off and he wasn’t. You’d take as much time with him as you could.

As you converse with him while indulging in your meals, you start to tell him about a show you’ve been watching. You even tell him you’re willing to rewatch it with him if he’s interested in checking it out. The more you talk, the more you delve into the story and tell him about a certain part that stuck with you. You found yourself wondering how could I ever do life without Zayne? It was in that moment that you realized you couldn’t, and you shared that with him.

“Whenever we die, it has to be me to go first,” you say nonchalantly as you cover your mouth after taking a bite of your sandwich.

Zayne was multitasking, completing some things on his computer while he ate his own. He froze mid type at your words. “Why would you say such a thing?”

You frown, shrugging your shoulders. “I just couldn’t live without you. I know a lot of people wouldn’t be able to go without their partners, but I really mean it. Like, I can’t even imagine a life without you in it.”

Removing his hands from the keyboard, he turns his body so that he’s facing you head on, all his attention now yours. “And you think I could? Live without you?”

“Not necessarily live without me,” you sip your water, feeling the shift in conversation turn from simple to seemingly serious. “I do think you’re stronger than me and that you could handle my absence better.”

He studies you, making you dart your eyes left and right because you don’t know what to say.

“You’re wrong,” he says simply. “I’m stronger for you. You should know that without you, there is nothing left for me to continue to be strong for.”

“Zayne, babe…” you frown. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Come here,” he cuts you off. You listen, standing from your chair. He pulls away from his desk as you round it, letting you stand between his spread legs. His hands caress the back of your thighs as you look down at him.

“I don’t want to hear you talk like that anymore. I know you were just sharing your feelings, and I never want you to hesitate to tell me about them. I also know that death is an inevitable thing for all of us, but it’s never something I want to ruminate on when it comes to you. Do you understand?”

“I won’t say anything like that again,” you nod, moving a black strand of his hair from his forehead. “I promise.”

“Good. Live in the moment with me.” He presses a gentle kiss to your stomach that’s covered by your dress. “Besides, I love you too much to let you leave me, no matter how you’d try.”

You chuckle, leaning down to kiss his lips. He doesn’t let you pull away so soon, deepening it as his hand holds you firm by the back of your neck.

“I love you too,” you breathe against his mouth when he finally gives you a moment to breathe.

“Good,” he stares at your lips before looking back into your eyes. He pulls his glasses off, resting them on the desk. “Why don’t you go lock the door so you can show me how much?”

Sylus

You and Sylus lay in your shared bed, talking about a whole bunch of things. It’s usually how the night ends for you two.

He tells you about work, the twins, plans he has for you, even down to what he plans on making you both for breakfast tomorrow. You tell him about your progression in your hobbies, books, shows, and what you’d like to get around to doing with him soon. Sometimes when you talk, you and him will randomly start getting into deeper topics like kids, marriage, and just life in general.

You mention to Sylus how you don’t even remember what life was like for you before you met him and how now, you don’t see a future where he isn’t there.

“Living without you is not an option for me. When it’s time to go, I have to be the one to go first. I just couldn’t deal.” You shiver at the thought.

He looks over at you, his eyes narrowing. The gentle light of the lamp casts a shadow against his handsome face as it sits on the nightstand behind him. You’re resting your cheek on your knuckles, pursing your lips at his sudden silence.

“What?” you smile as he continues to stare.

“Not only are you saying nonsense, but I’m curious as to why you think there’s any instance where I’d remain here without you by my side, kitten. In the event that you’re gone because neither of us had a choice in you staying, there would be no purpose for me.” His voice rumbles and he speaks so simply, like if you were to die right now, you should expect him to be right behind you.

“But the twins—”

“I care for, yes. But you?” His hand comes up to your face, gently holding your jaw like you’re so fragile. “If I ever lost you, I’d lose myself. There is no me without you, I’m sure I’ve told you that. You are the reason I have meaning.”

Your eyes water at that. “There was a you before me though, Sy.” You place your hand on top of his.

“Unfortunately,” he smiles. “But there will never be anything after. It’s either I go first or we go together, sweetie.”

“I don’t like this conversation,” you push out a laugh, trying to suppress the emotions in your chest.

“Neither do I,” he admits, moving closer to you and wrapping you tightly in his arms. “I’d prefer if we don’t have it again. There will never be a world where one of us will have to survive without the other, not if I can help it. Besides, kittens have nine lives, don’t they? You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

You bask in his strength, feeling grounded by the weight of him. You press a kiss to his pec, then his jaw until you reach the corner of his lips. “Oh babe, you know that was sooo corny!”

He releases that rich laugh that has dollar signs all around it, making you laugh too. “I’d reshape universes if I could ensure I’d find you in every one,” he says gently, kissing your forehead. “Nothing is too much for you.”

“You’re so sappy.” Your cheeks subtly ache from smiling so hard.

“And in love. You have yourself to thank for giving me such an experience.”

“You’re more than welcome,” you tease, knowing that he understands the sentiment is mutual.

He presses a firm kiss to the top of your head. “We have forever for me to show you how grateful I am.”

“I really love you, Sy,” you whisper.

“And I really, really, love you,” he adds. “More than you’ll ever understand.”

[sylusbrooch]

The City Outside the Crown

Prologue Caleb's Part Xavier's Part Rafayel's Part Zayne's Part Sylus's Part 1 (Currently)

I didn’t know what I expected from a place called the N109 Zone, but it wasn’t this.

The sprawling city rose from the rocky hills like an ironclad fortress, encased in steel, stone, and silent watchmen. Not once did I see a royal banner—not one sigil bearing the mark of the King of Philos. This place did not bend to the crown.

And yet, it thrived.

The gates opened under Sylus’s command without hesitation. Even the guards, fierce and unblinking, lowered their weapons in reverent silence as we passed. I followed him—half from curiosity, half from a lingering sense of debt. The Onychinian children, now wrapped in warm cloaks and carried by their own people, had been rescued because of him.

Because of the man they called their Overlord.

The city inside was… breathtaking.

Stone streets split in perfect, geometric order. Markets buzzed with life—sellers of rare minerals, volcanic glassware, crimson silks dyed in strange hues I’d never seen. There were performers on platforms singing in the guttural, rhythmic tones of Onychinian canticles, and children racing between pyre-lamps shaped like draconic wings.

And in every face—horned, scaled, or marked with the faint silver freckles of their ancestry—was safety. Relief.

"I thought you were exiled," I said at last, walking beside Sylus as he gestured toward an open-air balcony overseeing the central district.

“I was,” he replied, his tone amused. “But exiles build their own thrones.”

I turned to look at him. “You don’t fear the crown’s retaliation?”

“I do not deal in fear,” he said coolly, then arched a brow. “And neither do you, it seems.”

I glanced away. It still unnerved me, how easily Sylus saw through people. Through me.

As we walked, he showed me the heart of the Zone—what they called the Ember District. Massive forges lined the quarter, pouring molten fire into channels that warmed the entire block. Apprentices hammered weapons. Others etched symbols into blackened armor, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Onychinian craftsmanship—rare and unmatched. This wasn’t a city; it was a war engine.

“How long have you built this?” I asked, trailing my fingers along a mural of obsidian dragons coiling around the city map.

“Ten years,” Sylus said. “Piece by piece. While the King looked away.”

He spoke it without pride or anger—just fact. As though fate had little choice but to follow him.

The people bowed to him as we passed, not with the shallow deference nobles expected, but with loyalty. Respect.

“You made this a haven,” I murmured.

He paused, eyes resting on a pair of children sparring in the sand, mock-swords made of wood and wrapped in ribbon. “They were hunted, enslaved, and silenced. No one came. So I did.”

I stared at him, truly seeing Sylus Qin for the first time. Not just a shadowed legend of draconic tyranny, but a man who carved his own dominion for those left unclaimed by the world.

Then he turned to me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Would you like to see where I drink wine and offend dignitaries?”

I blinked. “Is that a serious question?”

Sylus chuckled low. “I’ve never been more sincere.”

We left the humming district behind, cutting through stone bridges and private lanes that wound toward the high cliffs. His mansion—if one could call it that—looked more like a dragon’s keep than a noble estate. Grand arches, volcanic stone columns, and stained glass shaped like wings and fire. The air smelled faintly of spice and coal.

Inside, it was cooler, quieter. The space was lit with red-glass lanterns and golden thread-tapestries.

Sylus led me through a hall of obsidian sculptures—dragons, soldiers, and one that unnervingly resembled himself—and opened a door into a lounge lined with velvet divans.

I stepped in—and froze.

There, seated on a crimson chair with a porcelain cup in hand, was Xavier Shen.

The Crown Prince of Philos. The man I had only just met in the shadowed streets days ago.

Sipping tea like he belonged.

He looked up from his drink, utterly unfazed.

“Would you like some?” he asked, completely deadpan. “It’s cinnamon.”

Previous Next i am baaacccckkkkkkk. i got distracted by nursing, lol, and pulling for the new banner. whaccha think of this chapter?

[sylusbrooch]

A Dragon's Shadow

Prologue Caleb's Part Xavier's Part Rafayel's Part Zayne's Part Sylus's Part (Currently)

My first breath tasted like dirt and copper.

The second—pain. A sharp, electric pulse surged through the cold iron locked tight around my neck. I gasped, slumping forward as my vision adjusted to the dim, bouncing light.

A collar.

Runes etched into its metal glowed faintly, and I could feel it—pressing down on the core of my magic like an iron heel on my throat. A suppression collar. Bastards.

The cart swayed roughly beneath me, wooden wheels creaking over uneven earth. My hands were free, but the weight on my neck was more than enough to make my stomach churn.

Then I heard the others.

Soft sobs. A sniffle. The hush of tiny breaths trying to stay hidden.

I looked up.

Around me—seven, maybe eight others. Mostly children. One teenager. A few older women. And all of them wore the same collar. Each had horns—small, stubby, or curved—some chipped, some perfectly smooth. Draconic.

Onychinians.

I sucked in a breath, slowly lowering myself beside a girl whose eyes were wide and shimmering in the dark. Her small hands clutched a tattered doll to her chest. She couldn’t have been older than five.

“What’s your name?” I whispered gently.

She blinked at me. “T-Tema.”

“Hi, Tema. I’m…” I hesitated. What name could I give that wouldn’t risk more harm?

“Call me Min,” I said finally. “I’m here now. I promise, I’ll protect you.”

“You’re not like us,” she said. “But you’re not like them either.”

Them. The ones who grabbed us in the alley. The ones who laughed when I fought back—and slapped the collar on.

I swallowed the bitter memory.

“No,” I said softly. “I’m not like them. And neither are you.”

A rough voice shouted outside. “We’re approaching the drop site. Prepare the pens.”

My spine stiffened. Pens?

Tema whimpered. Other children huddled closer together. I spotted a boy clenching his fists, trying not to cry, his horns wrapped in dirty cloth to hide them.

Before I could speak again, the cart jerked violently to the left.

A scream tore out of one of the women. I grabbed the side of the cart and threw my arm around Tema just in time for a loud crack to ring through the night—metal against bone, followed by thundering hooves and chaotic shouting.

“Ambush! It’s an ambu—argh—!”

The horses neighed wildly, and the cart lurched, tumbling sideways into a rough slope. I rolled, body slamming against the wooden walls, Tema cradled against my chest.

We hit the bottom with a slam.

Splinters flew. The world tilted. For a second, all I heard was ringing and the rapid beat of my heart.

Then—

“Kieran, left!”

“On it.”

I lifted my head groggily just as the back wall of the cart was ripped open like paper.

Two tall figures stepped through the broken slats, outlined against the moonlight like shadows from a nightmare.

They wore cloaks black as pitch, horned masks shaped like birds of prey—beaks long and curved, crimson eyes gleaming.

One stepped forward and tilted his head, looking at the children.

“Alive. All of them.” He sounded relieved—almost surprised.

“Who… who are you?” I croaked, throat tight with the collar’s burn.

The one on the right knelt. “Luke,” he said. “That’s Kieran.”

Kieran tipped his head and offered a lazy little salute with two fingers. “We’re here to clean up the filth that touched our people.”

I moved to shield the nearest child, breathing hard. “Are you with them? Or—?”

Luke leaned in close, his bird mask nearly brushing mine. “We’re with him.”

A shadow passed overhead.

I turned and saw him.

Sylus Qin.

He strode through the wreckage like a general surveying a battlefield, long coat sweeping behind him. His eyes flicked over the fallen slavers—limp bodies strewn across the dirt. Some moaned. Others… wouldn’t rise again.

He said nothing at first. Just observed.

And then his gaze landed on me.

“Remove the collar.”

Luke stepped forward, and with a hiss of steel and a quick twist of a tool, the magic restraint fell from my neck. The rush of magic returning made my lungs ache.

I coughed and winced, but the moment passed.

Sylus approached, standing just feet from me. His expression unreadable.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

I touched my temple and found a gash.

“I’ve had worse,” I muttered.

He arched a brow slightly, amused.

“You soothed them,” he said, gesturing to the children now clinging to my arms.

“What else was I supposed to do? Let them scream until your dramatic entrance?”

That drew the faintest curve of his lips.

“You’re sharp,” he murmured. “I like that.”

I stood shakily. “Who are they?” I asked, nodding toward the children. “Why were they taken?”

“Onychinians,” he replied calmly. “Descendants of dragons. Rare. Feared. Hunted. But still mine.”

“Yours?” I repeated, bristling.

“Mine to protect,” he clarified, gaze heavy. “And mine to use. If the world will burn us… let us be the fire.”

Behind him, carts were being prepared—clean, sturdy ones. The injured were tended to, carried by gloved hands. Not a single Onychinian was left unaccounted for.

Sylus turned his back to me. “They’ll be taken to Zone N109. A stronghold far from this rotting court.”

“And me?” I asked.

“You,” he said without turning, “can choose to forget this, and go back to playing noble… or follow the dragons and see what lies beneath the ash.”

The girl—Tema—tugged on my hand. “Min… are you coming?”

I looked down. Her wide eyes stared into mine.

And I looked at Sylus—his calm arrogance, his absolute control.

“I’m coming,” I said, lifting her gently into my arms.

Luke and Kieran stepped aside. The darkness of the road ahead swallowed the slaver’s blood, the fear, the shattered cart.

And I stepped into it.

Previous Next

[sylusbrooch]

A symphony forever unfinished

[sylusbrooch]

repost of tommyinnit :D