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fractal-library · 6 days ago

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Tower of Hopes (1/13)

(A/N: Should I have probably waited until morning to post this? Probably. Was I too excited to wait that long? Yes.)

Pairing: Foreseer|Zayne x Princess|Reader (fem)

Summary: You are the crown princess, set to have a political marriage with the king from a neighboring kingdom. As you are getting ready to walk down the aisle you run away instead, straight to one of the temples of the gods, the Tower of Thorns. The temple built for the worship of Astra.

There your childhood friend Zayne lives, having been bound to the god Astra as His emissary many years ago. Despite his warnings that you will never be allowed to leave the tower if you claim sanctuary, you do anyway. Now that you cannot leave the temple the wedding is called off and you begin your life as a permanent resident in the tower with your estranged childhood friend as your only company inside its cold walls.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Word Count: 4600

Chapters: (Next)

Read on AO3

It was the perfect day for a winter wedding.

A fresh blanket of snow covered the world, soft etchings of swirling frost painted every window, delicate flakes fluttered from the sky like flower petals. Inside a tall stone palace life hummed with dozens of burning fireplaces and bustling bodies. The smell of roasting meats and baking sweet cinnamons and apples wafted through the hallways. Though out of season, bushels of flowers decorated the halls wrapped in velvet ribbon and lace.

A bouquet had been set aside for you in your rooms. It rested in the hands of one of the dozen of attendants that scurried about the room tittering to each other as they readied you. Yards of ivory fabric swathing you, embellished with delicate embroidery, crystals, and pearls. Everyone said you made a beautiful bride. You said you looked like the ballroom chandelier.

In an hour you would be walking out of this room and down the aisle for a marriage you never asked for. It was hardly your choice though. As the oldest and the next in line for the throne it had been left to you to marry advantageously. A king from a neighboring kingdom that would join with yours, expanding your lands. This stranger would be your husband and you his wife and queen.

You had only met the man once. He was kind enough, a bit boastful, not unwell to look upon but hardly a face that would be chosen for many paintings. He said everything you expected to hear. He had heard much about you, your talents, your charm, and especially your beauty. He expected you would make a fine queen. You nodded politely but spent the entire engagement dinner silent.

Now you were to wed. Despite the many layers adorning you you felt ice cold.

The attendants parted as your mother the queen entered to check on you. “Oh my darling, you look every bit as radiant as I knew you would.” she gasped.

“Thank you, mother.” you kept your hands clasped in front of you so you didn’t fidget with the dress or the jewelry or the veil. You were thankful you were going to be given a bouquet or else you didn’t know if you’d be able to remain composed for the ceremony.

“Everyone out, I’d like a word alone with my daughter.” the queen demanded and all the attendants bowed their heads and fled the room. One of the ladies that entered with your mother set down a silver tray and bowed before taking her leave with everyone else. Once they were gone and the door clicked shut she held out her hands to you. You grasped her, squeezing tighter than was probably necessary. “Nervous?”

“Yes.” you admitted.

“I understand. It is a big day and you’ve hardly been given a moment to breathe.” she cooed softly. “I went through the same on my wedding day. So I brought you three gifts before the ceremony. First,” she went to the tray the one lady left behind and unwrapped a napkin. Inside was a little cake. “Something sweet to give you energy and steady the nerves.”

You took the cake gratefully, carefully taking a bite so not to ruin the hard work your attendants had put into your appearance. The sweetness of the cake danced on your tongue and you moaned at the taste.

“My second gift is this.” she lifted a small box tied with ribbon and held it out for you.

You carefully crammed the rest of the little cake into your mouth as you took the box from your mother. She rolled her eyes but said nothing about your unladylike display.

You unwrapped the box and nestled inside was a necklace. You had received many fine necklaces and other jewelry as engagement gifts over the past several weeks. This was unlike all of them though. It was on a simple silver chain and the pendant was small, a symbol of Astra.

Your heart constricted looking at the necklace. An ache you had been biting back since you learned your parents had engaged you swelled in your chest.

“May He bring you comfort and protection.” your mother said, taking the necklace and clasping it around your throat.

You knew why your mother gave you this. She was very devout to the gods and your kingdom was home to Astra’s temple so it was the god you prayed to most of all. When you grasped the pendant she most likely thought you were trying to draw strength from it, maybe sending a prayer up to Astra in your silence.

“And my final gift,” she took you by the arm and escorted you out of your room. She walked with you down to the solarium. Unlike the rest of the palace that buzzed with people and noise, this room was quiet and empty.

“I don’t understand.” you said, looking around the room with its high walls and ceiling made of glass.

“A moment to yourself.” she said. “Your ladies will be by to collect you shortly before the ceremony. But you have a long day ahead of you still and I know the changes that are coming are great. This is a time for you to sit and be at peace and center yourself before everything happens. Relish it, this may be the last time you relax all day.”

“Thank you, mother.” you bowed your head.

She sighed, tilting your head back up. “You are strong, my darling. I know this may not be what you imagined for yourself but it is a good thing. You will see. I love you.” she pressed a gentle kiss to your head and left the room.

You stood in the center of the solarium and let the composure that kept you standing straight slip. You collapsed onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling. How were you meant to do this? You had told yourself it was your duty a thousand times but the more you said it the less convincing it was. Maybe if you had been kept in your room surrounded by your attendants then you would not feel yourself cracking like this. You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to pull yourself from this room.

Then there was this damn necklace. You still had a hand clutched over the pendant but your thoughts were not with Astra. They were with who you always thought of when you saw Astra’s symbol.

Zayne.

You stood up again and went to the windows, pressing your hand to the frost you wiped it away. Far in the distance through the trees you could see a tower poking out from the snow covered pines. The Tower of Thorns. Astra’s temple. A temple with only one inhabitant. One you had not seen since last year and only very briefly.

You leaned forward until your nose bumped against the cold glass.

You had perhaps half an hour until the ceremony, maybe forty minutes if you were generous. No one would be looking for you till then. The only question then was, how far could you get through the snow in this dress?

You decided to answer your own question and ran for the solarium doors. You pushed them open, the glass pushing against the powdery snow as you stepped out into the cold winter air. Your fine slippers sunk into snow, burying your entire foot in cold and wet. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and gathered your gown into your arms before taking off towards the forest in a mad dash.

You had made it to the treeline out of breath and your toes freezing. You looked back at the castle, watching for any sign that anyone noticed you were missing. There were no bells ringing in alarm or barking dogs following your scent so you took a moment to catch your breath and kept going. You followed the carriage path that cut through the trees to lead to the tower.

Your shoes were soaked through and your toes were tingling numb. The hem of your ridiculously extravagant wedding gown was soaked through and small splatters of cold water hit the back of your legs. Every inch of you was heavy and cold but you kept going until finally there was a break in the endless forest. Before you stood the Tower of Thorns, impossibly tall and gleaming. It stood sharp and jagged like a mountain carved from broken glass, stretching into the clouds.

You pulled yourself forward up the steps and collapsed against the door. You lifted the knocker and slammed it down against door three times. Please. You begged. Please open. Please.

You felt the door give way and you fell across the threshold into a pair of arms. “Princess?”

“Zayne…” you sighed, leaning into the warmth of his body. “I’m cold…”

“Gods help me,” he gave a grunt as he pulled you up into his arms and rushed into the kitchen where a fire was burning. He set you in front of it and wordlessly started preparing something hot to drink. He didn’t ask any questions at first, he simply rushed around the room brewing some tea. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off the stockings, stretching your frozen feet towards the fire to warm them back up.

“Here,” Zayne handed you a mug full of steaming tea made exactly the way you liked it.

“Thank you.” you took a gentle sip, careful not to scald your tongue.

Now that you were warming up and not in any clear danger of freezing to death Zayne stopped and stared at you. He was dressed in his normal regalia as the emissary of Astra. Divinely chosen by the god Himself, Zayne had been predestined to become Astra’s emissary, his voice on the mortal plane. He was raised for this position and once he was of age he had come to live here, never to leave as was expected of the gods’ emissaries all over the world.

You only saw Zayne once a year when your family came to pray and pay tribute to the god, asking His favor and protection for another year.

Before Zayne was Astra’s emissary though he had been your friend and tutor. You spent your childhood playing with him and learning with him and from him. You had always known that this was where he would end up one day but going from seeing someone most everyday to once a year was startling. You tried visiting more often but as time went on your duties kept you away and Zayne often chided you for interrupting his own work with your unannounced visits.

Normally in those visits he’d roll his eyes but invite you in and listen to you politely before gently reminding you he had to work and sending you back on your way. This was no normal visit though as your attire clearly proved.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be reciting your vows right about now?”

“I should.” you stared down into your cup of tea, unable to meet his eyes.

“So why are you here?” he repeated.

“I…I couldn’t do it.” your voice shook. “I was holding steady and then they left me alone and--” you didn’t mention the necklace your mother had given you that seemed to all but pull you to his doorstep.

“I’m not going back.” you told him. “I cannot.”

Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seemed to remember he was in front of royalty and stood up straight again. “Your Highness, it is not a matter of can or cannot. You are expected to marry today. All you have done is delay the ceremony, ruin your shoes, and try to freeze yourself. They will realize where you are soon enough and come to collect you.”

“I know.” you hated when he addressed you so formally. You’d take the childish teasing from when you were kids over another “Your Highness” any day, even if he did call you a cry-baby. You’d know he was doing it because it was what he wanted to call you, not what he was supposed to.

“Then why did you come?”

Your mouth hung open but no answers came.

Zayne bowed his head, “You have to go back. I’ll send a messenger bird over to tell them you are here if they haven’t figured it out already.”

“It won’t do any good.” you called after him as he turned to leave the room. “I’m not going back.”

“You have to.” he called back.

“No, I don’t. Not if I claim sanctuary.”

Zayne froze and stepped back into the room, his gaze narrowed on you. “Only an idiot would do such a thing and you are no idiot, princess.”

“Claiming sanctuary is the action of an idiot now? The refugees that fall on the gods’ doors must be very foolish then.”

“People who claim sanctuary do so because they have nowhere else to go. You are the Crown Princess, you are about to become queen of two entire kingdoms. If there is one person who does not need to claim sanctuary it is you.” he stepped in front of you and attempted to calm himself.

“You are scared. I can see that. I doubt it is the dream of any little girl to marry someone she does not know, but do not do something ill-advised to escape it. You cannot simply run away from your problems.”

“Why not? It is not as if I am the only heir. I have plenty of younger siblings that could take up my role as heir apparent.” you said, your reasoning growing more manic as this idea burrowed deeper into your brain.

“You do not know what you would be agreeing to.” Zayne hissed, “Sanctuary is only done in dire cases for a reason. If you claim sanctuary then you are stuck here, you will be bound to the temple, unable to ever leave. Is that what you want?”

Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. You had wanted to go out and see the world past your own kingdom. But you knew what awaited you if you were married to that king waiting back at the castle. You would be wife and queen and when you were not attending to matters of state you would be expected to make many many babies. Then when you were not being queen or wife you would be mother. You still had so many dreams, so many desires, none of which you’d be able to see locked in a castle with a man you did not want to call husband. You’d be barred from those dreams here as well, but at least you would not need to lay down with the king and have his babies. Any life you built in this tower would be your choice. That at least was worth it.

There was a banging on the temple doors that shook you both from your confrontation. Zayne leveled a warning look at you and went to answer it. You took another fortifying sip of tea and followed him, your bare feet padding across the cold floor.

Zayne opened the door and your parents shuffled in with some guards pouring in behind them. From the open door you could tell there were more waiting outside the tower.

“My darling, are you alright? Oh dear, your dress--” your mother tutted, coming up and hugging you. “You are chilled to the bone! We thought you may have been abducted.”

“Clearly our daughter decided she needed to pray before her nuptials, such poor timing though.” your father said through clenched teeth, “What in the hells are you doing here? The ceremony was set to begin fifteen minutes ago!”

“Dear, please, let us hear her first--”

“You are the one who left her alone! If she had remained in her room with her attendants then this wouldn’t have happened.” your father snapped. “Whatever tantrum or panic sent you here, it is over. We are leaving now. We were able to tide things over with the king by telling him that you were coming here to pray but that your prayers went on too long. It is time to go before any more time is wasted and suspicion spreads.”

“No.” you said, hands clenching into fists at your sides. “I’m not going back. I don’t want to marry him.”

“Darling, please--”

“No, mother!” you snapped, “I cannot do it! I cannot marry him! Please! Please do not make me do this!”

“It is scary, I know--”

“No! You don’t know! You got to marry someone you loved! I do not know this man. I know nothing about him outside of what kingdom he rules.” you hugged her tight, “Please, mama, do not force me to do this!”

“Enough of this!” your father grabbed you, wrenching you away from your mother and started dragging you towards the door. “You are not a child anymore! You are a woman grown and you are going to go through with this marriage!”

“No!” you struggled against his hold. You made eye contact with Zayne who was watching the whole spectacle unfold in stunned silence. When you looked at him though he could see what you intended.

“Don’t--” he shouted but it was too late.

“Sanctuary!” you screamed. “I claim sanctuary in Astra’s name!”

The room froze. Light spread like cracks of lightning from the vaulted ceilings and down to the floor to where you stood. The points of light coalesced under your feet and you felt a surge of icy shock, as if you had fallen through a frozen lake, shoot from your feet into your head. The light cleared away but around your neck the necklace your mother had gifted you glowed with radiant light. You felt buzzing in your ears, words spoken through a haze that you could not decipher, then silence.

The light faded from your necklace and you knew it had been done. You were now a charge of the Tower of Thorns and could not be removed from the temple grounds.

Your parents stood shocked and gaping at you. “What have you done?” your father said, staring at you in horror.

“You didn’t give me any other choice.” you muttered, pulling your arm out of his grasp.

“Undo it.” your father snapped, turning to Zayne.

Even in his silence you could tell that Zayne was seething, staring at you as if you had just blasphemed his god instead of invoke his name in sanctuary. He turned to address your father. “I am sorry, Your Majesty, I cannot undo a claim of sanctuary.”

“She did not mean it!” your father insisted.

You were about to rebuttal that you did indeed mean it with your entire heart but Zayne spoke first.

“Sanctuary cannot be revoked once it has been invoked. I am afraid not even royal decree can overturn the will of the gods.” Zayne said. “She is now under the care of the temple.”

“Can we do nothing?” your mother asked, coming over to hold your hand.

“The princess has essentially given herself up as an offering to Astra with her claim of sanctuary. To take back such an offering would only anger the gods.” Zayne explained, hands clasped behind his back, the picture of calm decorum despite the storm in his eyes. “The only solutions I can think of to undo this is to find an offering worthy of swapping the princess for or beseeching the gods to reject her. Neither of which are likely to work.”

Every eye turned to you. Your mother was crushing your hand in her grip and the fire in your father’s eyes made you think he was going to melt the snow into spring. “You had better enjoy your time here,” he said, his voice a thrumming rage, “because as soon as we sort this out you are heading right back to that altar.”

Your father left. Your mother fretted for a moment, pulling you into a hug and telling you not to worry and that she loved you before following your father. The guards filed out with them and the door closed with a decisive thunk.

The weight of what you did started to settle on you. You had done it. You escaped the marriage but now you were a charge of the temple. Unless your parents succeeded in beseeching the gods to let you go, you’d never see anything outside of these temple grounds again.

You could feel the burning glare of Zayne at your back.

You took in a deep breath and turned. He stood there unmoving and outwardly composed, but his eyes held the tumultuous fury of a blizzard. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

You squared your shoulders, refusing to be cowed by his disappointment. “I avoided a marriage that would have made me miserable--”

“No. You ruined what would have been a good alliance for the kingdom and condemned yourself to this tower.” Zayne cut you off. “It is lucky for you that your parents will not rest until they get you out of here.

“Do you really think Astra is going to give up a princess?” you said. You tried to say it confidently, as if you already knew Astra would never give you up but it came out more like a scared question.

“You had better hope He will. This is no life for you.” he gestured to the temple. His annoyance was clear on his face. “Do you remember when we were young? You had said that you were going to go out and see the world for me. You promised that. So you have now broken more than one promise this day.”

“I know.” Hearing him mention your old promise hurt more than anything your parents said. “I couldn’t go through with the marriage though. I thought you of all people would understand.”

“Understand? No. I do not understand.” he sighed, settling his hands on his hips. “There is no taking back what you did today though. Since you are stuck here I will show you to a room you can stay in. Follow me.”

He turned and left without bothering to see if you were following. You were starting to regret kicking off your shoes as you hiked your dress back up in your arms and scampered after him. He led you down a series of corridors and up stairs until finally stopping at a door. He pushed it open and gestured for you to go in.

It was a simple and plain room but clean. Bed, wardrobe, desk and chair, a small fireplace, and another door that you assumed led to a bathing chamber. Half your closet wouldn’t even fit in this room. Hells, you in your dress barely fit the humble chamber. At least the bed would only belong to you tonight.

“I’ll let you settle in.” Zayne said. He gave a bow of his head and left.

You looked around the room, studying it closer. You were right about the bathing chamber. You were glad to see that there was running hot water so you at least didn’t need to do anything as barbaric as heat your own water for a bath.

You started removing all your adornments, starting with the crown and veil you had on as well as all the jewelry. Next you started on the elaborate arrangement of your hair and the two dozen or so pearl pins they and managed to clip into it.

Lastly was the dress which after several minutes of struggling you hadn’t even gotten an arm free of the ivory and crystal monstrosity.

There was a gentle knock on your door. You huffed, giving up on trying to free yourself and answered it. Zayne stood on the other side with a bundle of clothes and a pair of shoes. “I figured you would not want to sleep in your wedding dress so I brought a change of clothes for sleeping and for everyday. Standard for anyone who claims sanctuary.”

“Thank you.” the material was thick and soft but drab in color.

“I’ll bring up some firewood and food in a bit.” he said. “I’ll leave you to change.”

Change. Right.

“Zayne.” you halted him, “I um…I…”

“What is it?” he looked at you confused.

Your face flooded with heat as you realized what you had to ask of him. “It um…it took more than three maids to tie me into this dress and I cannot get it off on my own. Can you…can you help me? Please?”

“Oh.” his eyes widened a fraction.

“I’m so very sorry to have to ask this of you. If I had a maid to call I’d ask them but I’ve been trying for twenty minutes to get this off myself and I simply cannot.”

“Fine.” Zayne swallowed, “Turn around.”

“Thank you.” you turned. You jumped a little when you felt his hands settle on your dress, finding the tightly knotted lacings and started untangling them and pulling them free. Slowly but surely the many layers that made up your wedding dress were peeled away.

“May I ask why the layering of this dress is so complicated?” Zayne asked, struggling to undo yet another knot.

“I requested it to be made like this.” you told him.

“Why?” he finally undid the knot and started undoing the lacing.

“So it would take longer to take off and my would-be-husband would lose interest halfway through and spare me having to lay with him tonight.” The designer that made the gown understood exactly what you were asking for when you kept on insisting on more layers and ties and whatnot. You could tell she was sympathetic to your worries and had done exactly as you had wished.

“I…” Zayne had grown quiet. “I had not considered that part.” he muttered.

“It was all I could think about.” a shiver ran up your spine, “When I was younger I had envisioned my wedding day as something far sweeter and with someone I loved. Not a political alliance.”

“I am sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“When you came here I was only thinking about what the kingdom had to gain and the freedom you would have as queen. I suppose I forgot that being married meant that you would also have to be a wife.” There was a certain disgust in his voice that told you he too sympathized with your plight now that he understood it better.

The final layer before your chemise fell around you. Finally free of the confines of your dress you stretched your arms up above your head and turned around. “Thank you. And though everyone else may be mad at me for this I know that I at the very least saved myself from what would have been a terrible wedding night.”

“Yes, well,” He cleared his throat, averting his gaze at your state of undress. “Good night, princess. I’ll be back with your firewood and food shortly.”

He disappeared back out the door without another word. You settled your arms back by your sides. Kicking away the layers of the dress to a corner you changed into the warm sleep shift Zayne had brought you and pulled on a pair of thick socks.

Zayne arrived with firewood and food as he had promised. He quickly lit the fire in the fireplace for you before wishing you a good night once more and leaving. You could only assume that your interruption earlier today had thrown off his routine and he was desperately trying to catch back up. You would not bother him any more today.

You went to the window and looked out over the forest. In the far distance you could see the spires of the palace in the rising moonlight. Your fingers found the small pendant of Astra around your neck. Were you going to regret this?

#guyssss this is so good pls read 🙏#love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #lads zayne x reader #foreseer zayne #lads #lnds #Zayne fic

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fractal-library · 7 days ago

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changed the dimensions of this stunning art by elongating the rock pattern and fading it out for phone bg purposes! thought I’d share jic anyone else would want 🧜🏻‍♂️🩵

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #rafayel #lads rafayel #lnds rafayel #shaun edits #submerged eclipse

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fractal-library · 8 days ago

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[ ♡ ] rafayelㅤ-ㅤsubmerged eclipse love and deepspace

#I am simply losing my fucking mind #lnds rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel gif

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fractal-library · 22 days ago

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"I thought you were good at this, cutie. Better catch the right fish this time"

Puffayel

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanart #rafayel #rafayel art #MY NEW FAVE ART #seriously it’s my bg rn I’m obsessed

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fractal-library · 22 days ago

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I love dragons

#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus art #lads #lnds

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fractal-library · 22 days ago

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“You know…” Sylus murmurs as he shifts beside you, the soft rustle of sheets and the low hum of rain outside your window filling the quiet space between you, “I’ve been thinking about something.” He glances at you with that lopsided smile of his, the one that always means he’s up to something. Sweet, ridiculous, or both.

You raise an eyebrow, suspicious already. “That sounds dangerous.”

He chuckles, low and warm. “I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve ever put my full weight on you.”

You blink. “Why would you?”

“Because,” he drawls, rolling slightly onto his side, propping his head up with one arm while the other gently plays with your fingers, “I see you lying there, looking all warm and soft, like the perfect pillow, and part of me thinks… I’m just orbiting you, and every part of me wants to give in. To stop holding back and just… land.”

You snort, trying to stifle a laugh, but he’s not done.

“And I’d be warm, you’d be warm. We’d both win. I mean, sure, you might not be able to breathe for a second, but isn’t that the price of love?”

“Sylus,” you wheeze between giggles, “you’re literally over six feet tall. You would crush me.”

He feigns deep offense. “Crush you? Cradle you in overwhelming affection, you mean.”

Then, with no warning, he dramatically flops down on you, all long limbs and warmth, pinning you beneath him with just enough weight to make it feel like you’re being hugged by a furnace.

“See? Perfect,” he mumbles into your neck, clearly refusing to move. “This is love. I’m not moving for the next thousand years.”

You let out a muffled groan, arms instinctively curling around him despite the squish. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He grins, voice already growing sleepy against your skin. “I know.”

a/n: I NEEDED this after reading death and rebirth sylus chapter cuz wtf infold

#love and deepspace #sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lnds #sylus fic

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fractal-library · 28 days ago

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LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — HE’S YOUR EMERGENCY CONTACT

a/n: here’s some raya lore — i’m a cardiac nurse irl and work with cardiothoracic surgeons all the time, so zayne’s story makes me giggle thinking about my surgeons doing this

ZAYNE

You regain consciousness slowly, with the vague sense that something humiliating has occurred. The hospital lights are too bright, the bed is too firm, and the IV in your arm is just... rude, honestly.

"You're awake," comes a voice — cool, low, and very familiar.

Oh no.

You turn your head and find Zayne, still in scrubs, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed and that trademark look of stoic disappointment on his face. You’re not sure if he's judging your vital signs or your life choices.

“I told you not to skip lunch,” he says.

“Did you get called down here?” you ask, voice hoarse.

He lifts an eyebrow. “No. I was already here. In surgery. Where I was paged — in the middle of a triple bypass — because my emergency contact had decided to dramatically pass out in the hospital lobby like a Victorian novel protagonist.”

“Wow. Sounds like they need better lobby snacks.”

He doesn't laugh, but the corner of his mouth twitches slightly — the Zayne equivalent of a full belly laugh.

You shift in bed, suddenly aware of how gross you must look. “Sooo… just to confirm, my very intimidating, brilliant surgeon-boyfriend got pulled out of heart surgery because I skipped breakfast and had a blood sugar tantrum?”

“Yes.” He picks up your chart like it personally insulted him. “And I had to hand my patient off to Dr. Greyson, who, by the way, is now convinced you're either dying or incredibly high-maintenance.”

“Well, I am dating a man who yells at EKG machines.”

“I don’t yell at them,” he says, deadpan. “I encourage them sternly.”

You’re about to tease him again when he steps closer and rests two fingers against your wrist, checking your pulse manually. You both know it’s unnecessary — your vitals are already beeping steadily on the monitor—but he does it anyway, like he needs to feel it for himself.

His eyes soften for a second — just a flicker —then the mask returns.

“I’m fine,” you say gently. “I swear.”

He doesn’t reply. He just exhales through his nose like you’ve personally ruined his whole month and reaches into the pocket of his white coat.

“I brought you juice,” he says flatly, pulling out a little box of apple juice like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You stare. “Wait. You detoured to pediatrics for juice?”

“I’m a surgeon, not a monster.”

You take the juice. He even gives you a bendy straw.

“I love you,” you say, smirking.

“You’re hypoglycemic. Your judgment is impaired.”

You reach for his hand anyway, and he lets you have it, warm and steady and a little calloused from years of holding hearts in his hands.

“You’re lucky I’m not dramatic,” you murmur.

He doesn't blink. “You fainted in the middle of a hospital hallway like an Oscar nominee.”

“Told you. Lobby snacks.”

Zayne exhales, shakes his head once, then gently brushes your hair away from your forehead with the kind of tenderness that could undo an entire cardiac ward.

“Next time,” he murmurs, “eat something. Or I’m putting you on a monitored meal plan.”

“You’re hot when you’re bossy.”

“I’m always bossy.”

“True. Still hot, though.”

Zayne doesn’t smile. But he does sit in the chair next to your bed and take out his tablet, one hand still loosely holding yours.

He doesn’t have to say anything. This is Zayne-speak for I'm not leaving.

And honestly? You’re kind of okay with fainting in public if it gets you this much juice and love from the hospital’s most terrifyingly devoted cardiothoracic surgeon.

XAVIER

You’re lying on the hospital bed, blinking up at the sterile white ceiling, wondering how you managed to turn skipping lunch into a full-on hospital visit. The door opens, and in walks Xavier — your boyfriend and your emergency contact — looking like he just sprinted through a hurricane, but somehow still perfectly put-together.

He spots you immediately, his calm, composed mask cracking just a little. “There you are,” he says, voice steady but with an unmistakable undertone of relief.

You try to sit up, but your head spins a little. “I’m fine. Sort of.”

He crosses the room in two strides, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle, careful, like he’s afraid if he’s too rough you might actually break.

“I got the call while I was in a meeting,” he says quietly, “and I left everything. I didn’t even finish my coffee.”

You smile, appreciating the little sacrifices he makes without complaint.

“You’re my emergency contact,” you remind him playfully. “Kind of your job to freak out a little.”

He lets out a short, almost embarrassed laugh. “I panicked. A bit. But I stayed composed.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it. “You’re doing great.”

His eyes soften, and for a moment the world outside this hospital room disappears. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around you, holding you close but steady.

“Promise me you’ll eat something next time,” he says quietly, his breath warm against your temple.

“I promise,” you murmur.

“And no more fainting in public. I don’t want to have to race down hospital hallways to find you again.”

You laugh softly. “Noted. I’ll try to keep you from breaking a sweat.”

His smile is almost shy now, but the way he tightens his hold on your hand says it all.

“You’re my emergency,” he whispers.

You snort. “Let’s not keep it that way.”

You stay like that for a while, just holding onto each other—two perfectly imperfect people, tethered together by something stronger than any emergency call.

RAFAYEL

Your ankle propped is propped up on a pillow, wrapped in bandages, and your pride slightly more bruised than your actual injury. The nurse said it’s just a mild sprain and you’ll live—but not before she tried very hard not to laugh when you explained how it happened.

The door bursts open like a dramatic plot twist.

“Where is she?!” comes the unmistakable voice of Rafayel.

You barely get out a “Hey—” before he’s at your bedside, eyes wild and hair slightly windblown like he’s just escaped a wind tunnel. Which, honestly, might not be far from the truth.

“I got the call and thought, ‘Oh, maybe she’s dehydrated, or tired, or mildly inconvenienced,’” he says, flinging his jacket on the nearest chair like he’s auditioning for a hospital drama. “But no. You injured yourself chasing your lunch?!”

“It was a really good sandwich,” you mutter defensively.

“A sandwich?” he repeats, clutching his heart like you’ve personally wounded him. “You rolled your ankle because a gust of wind stole your sandwich?”

You glare at him. “I was hungry, okay? It was toasted. And warm. It smelled amazing. I panicked.”

He takes a long, theatrical breath like he’s trying to absorb the full weight of your questionable life choices.

“I left in the middle of an event meeting ,” he says, dramatically pulling a chair up to your bedside. “I might have knocked over a cup of coffee on the way out. I think Thomas yelled for me. I don't remember. My soul left my body the moment they said your name.”

Despite his flair for the dramatic, his hand finds yours — gently, carefully, like he’s trying to check for injuries you haven’t mentioned.

“You’re okay, though?” he asks, suddenly quieter, eyes searching yours. “Really okay?”

You squeeze his hand. “I’m fine. Just a little bruised. Physically and emotionally.”

He exhales, visibly relaxing even though he’s trying to pretend like he was never worried in the first place. “Good. Because I wasn’t emotionally prepared to lose you to an airborne panini.”

You burst out laughing. “Technically, it was a ciabatta.”

“Oh, excuse me,” he says with mock offense, but you catch the tiny tremble of relief in his smile.

He straightens up with a newfound sense of duty. “Right. From now on, I am personally supervising all your lunches. If it has lettuce, it’s getting double security.”

You grin. “Are you volunteering to be my food bodyguard?”

“Silly girl— I’m your boyfriend and your emergency contact. Food security is just a natural extension of my role.”

And with that, he dramatically unwraps a protein bar from his bag, holds it out to you like a solemn offering, and adds, “Now eat this. And next time, let the sandwich go.”

You take the bar, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And yet, somehow, I’m still the most responsible person in this relationship.”

You nudge him playfully with your elbow. “You ran into a hospital yelling.”

“I entered with urgency. There’s a difference.”

Despite everything, you’re smiling. Because if you’re going to end up in a hospital with a sprained ankle and a lost sandwich, there’s no one else you’d rather have panicking beautifully at your side than Rafayel.

SYLUS

You’re lying in a hospital bed, leg elevated, toe wrapped in what must be 400 layers of gauze for a very minor fracture. Your phone’s dead. You’re mildly embarrassed. And the nurse informed you that your emergency contact has been called.

Great.

Not five minutes later, the door opens with an entirely reasonable amount of urgency, and in walks Sylus. He looks calm, of course. Immaculately put-together. The kind of composed that makes everyone else feel like maybe things aren’t on fire.

“Hey,” you say sheepishly. “Before you ask, I’m not dying.”

He walks straight to your bedside, his steps efficient, quiet. His eyes scan you from head to toe like he’s assessing battlefield injuries, even though the only casualty is your dignity and maybe a toe bone.

“Mm,” he hums, setting down a small bag —because of course he brought things. “The nurse said you broke your toe.”

“Just a tiny fracture. More like a dramatic crack. I stubbed it on the coffee table.”

Sylus sits in the chair beside your bed and raises an eyebrow. “With enough force to require X-rays and emergency contact notification?”

“I was chasing a bug.”

He blinks. “You injured yourself in active combat with a housefly.”

“It was huge.”

He nods slowly, lips twitching, almost smiling. “Understandable.”

You watch him as he leans back slightly in the chair, arms crossed, but his eyes don’t leave you. He’s trying to appear relaxed, but you know him. The slight crease between his brows? The way his leg is bouncing, just a little? That’s Sylus-level distress.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

“I’m fine,” he replies smoothly. “You’re the one who got into a full-contact brawl with furniture.”

You grin. “You worried?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Of course.”

“You’re hiding it well.”

“I’m excellent at containment,” he replies, but then — he gently takes your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles with an absent, comforting rhythm.

The silence stretches out, warm and familiar. Finally, you speak.

“You didn’t have to rush over, y’know.”

“I didn’t rush,” he says.

“You’re out of breath.”

“I took the stairs.”

You laugh, and that finally gets him to crack a full smile. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple, brief and grounding.

“Next time,” he says, still soft, “let the bug win.”

“Are you saying that because of my toe, or because you’re secretly pro-bug?”

“I’m saying that because you are not replaceable, and coffee tables are surprisingly effective weapons.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re my favorite emergency contact.”

“I better be.” He raises your hand to his lips. “I have a designated bag for this exact situation.”

You blink. “Wait — what’s in the bag?”

He opens it casually: snacks, a charger, a small first aid kit, and — of course — a mini bottle of lotion “in case hospital soap dries out your hands.”

“You’re terrifyingly prepared,” you murmur.

Sylus smiles calmly, brushing hair from your forehead. “And you are accident-prone. It’s a beautiful match.”

And just like that, everything feels a little less embarrassing, a little less dramatic. Because Sylus is here — collected, calm, worried down to his bones, and still managing to make you feel like the most secure clumsy person in the world.

CALEB

You’re sitting on a gurney with an ice pack strapped to your wrist and a very strong desire to sink into the floor and disappear. It’s a mild sprain. Barely a sprain, really. But policy’s policy, and your emergency contact has been notified.

That would be Caleb.

You don't even get a chance to text him before the door bursts open.

There he is — Caleb in full protective, puffed-up mode — hair messy like he sprinted here without stopping to breathe, hoodie half-zipped, eyes scanning the room like he’s ready to file a lawsuit or carry you out in his arms. Possibly both.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, rushing over. “Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you call me? Did someone push you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “It was a slippery hallway.”

Caleb squints. “Slippery like… sabotage? Who waxes a hallway that much?”

“It’s a hospital, babe.”

“Still suspicious.”

He pulls a chair up to the bed with unnecessary force, plops down beside you, and carefully examines your wrist like he’s about to perform surgery himself.

“They gave you an X-ray, right? And ice? Did they check for nerve damage? Do I need to talk to someone?”

You sigh, smiling. “Yes, yes, no, and absolutely not. It’s a minor sprain.”

“Minor?” he repeats like you just called a plane crash a “minor inconvenience.”

You lean back and watch as he starts rifling through the little hospital drawer for reasons unknown. Possibly looking for answers. Possibly snacks.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“You can breathe. I’m okay.”

He finally pauses, sitting back in his chair. “I know you’re okay. I just need to see you being okay for, like, the next three hours before I stop internally screaming.”

You reach over and lace your fingers with his with your uninjured hand.

“I appreciate your overreaction.”

He huffs dramatically. “This isn’t an overreaction. This is called deep, passionate concern.”

“You accused a hallway of foul play.”

“And I stand by that.”

You chuckle, gently tugging his hand. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

“I’m always worried. You’re a walking hazard zone.”

You smirk. “Yet you keep dating me.”

“I like living dangerously,” he says, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. “But next time? Text me. I want to hear about your wrist injury from you, not a very bored nurse who said, and I quote, ‘Your partner’s fine. Bit dramatic, though.’”

“Wow. She really captured your energy.”

He narrows his eyes. “Okay. I’m limiting your sarcasm until your wrist heals.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

#incredible 10/10 🤣🤣🤣#love and deepspace #lads #l&ds

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fractal-library · 1 month ago

Text

So having finally gone through the main story update once, stared at the ceiling, then gone through it immediately again... I am in fucking awe. Speechless. How tf am I supposed to digest this lore drop??? I've been taking notes, gone over screenshots, gotten misty eyed over how much I love SylusMC and just augh... this has rewired the way I view a lot of things in this game.

For example... just how large part Sylus truly plays in the main story. How vital he is. He has been there from the very beginning, pulling strings, moving events along, watching, protecting... he is honestly Everythinglus atp. Universlus. Love and Deepspacelus. I cannot stress how central this man is to MC's story. No wonder he took 5 years to craft. And (loath as I am to say it) ... the gatekeeping of some of his content up 'til now kind of makes sense. His lore is just too closely tied to the main story plot (the lack of communication is still shitty though). I am still kind of shocked by this tbh because it's forced me to do a 180 on my stance re: Paperfold's feelings towards him.

This main story update is just mind blowing in different ways, sort of like Beyond Cloudfall and how that changed everything. I'll be obsessing over it for the rest of the week, at least.

Anyway, idc that it's too early in the morning for this I need to get my initial thoughts out of my system and what better way to do so than a long ass tumblr post. So yeah just gonna go ahead and wordvomit/theorize share some screenshots/details that blew my mind all the way to sunday, and also attempt a timeline b/c my autistic brain demands that of me.

(Be warned, it's long and kind of all over the place. I don't blame anyone that won't bother with it lol).

(Spoilers, obviously)

Can we talk about the SOULMATISM between SylusMC and how that is actually canon to the main story??? They reference the 10.5 grams of soul... Sylus says this

They are pretty much confirmed to still be destined archnemeses in their current timeline – they were meant to kill each other as kids/teens. But like in the myth – and honestly like always – they decided to give fate the middle finger and chose their own path together. Then they got separated but found each other again. Twice. And they always will keep finding each other. No matter which "soil" they find themselves in. They have always been soulmates. But not by fate. But by CHOICE.

I have tried to make a timeline of their relationship from what was revealed here, that I kind of think makes sense?

First, Beyond Cloudfall. Dragon!Sylus and later Dragon!MC dies, and are then reborn on the same planet. Note, that this is not earth but possibly Philos.

They are expected to fight each other to the death in the Arena. But instead they succesfully run off together. And perhaps go on to commit crimes... I am speculating this to maybe be the case because of the "even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit" line but also because of the potential scenario I mention in point 3.

At some point in time, they are separated by the Deepspace Tunnel. Either before or after the separation, Sylus is thrown into Tartarus. If it happened before, then it's possible that MC was somehow responsible for it (remember, as a child she threatens to throw Sylus into Tartarus. Which could be foreshadowing of some kind).

In whichever case, while Sylus is in Tartarus, MC has been taken to Earth – more specifically to the Gaia Research Center in the N109 Zone – where she has either regressed to or been reborn as a tiny child, and is experimented on by EVER who are after eternal life and want to use her powers to achieve it.

Sylus breaks out of jail and goes in search for MC, eventually pinpointing her location using the eye of Aether and landing in the N109 Zone in 2034 (this according to the Timelock Key). At this time, the Chronorift Catastrophe is happening and Dimitri – blaming MC for it and for the Wanderers – tries to kill her by putting her in the Deepspace Collision Chamber. But before she can succumb to it, Sylus arrives and breaks her out. He makes a deal with Dimitri to bring MC back to him in the future.

Sylus leaves MC to be raised by Josephine, and for the next 14 years he keeps watch over her from a distance (remember the giant red eye? And mephie ofc), while founding Onychinus and taking over the N109 Zone, and working on taking down EVER. He creates a special menu just for MC at Elysium, in the hopes that she will one day come there, order it, and find him.

LAR. They reunite again, but MC remembers nothing. Not their Dragon myth, nor their childhood, nor Sylus' rescue of her. Instead, she sees him as a monster and despises him.

Present time.

Now, there are some things I want to point out here re: this.

One – I was wrong about Sylus' being resurrected or reassembled. Clearly, he was reborn... but unlike MC with his past life memories intact. I also still see him as a Dragon for the same reasons I've stated before. And also because I want him to be lol. I definitely don't think he's human. Nor is MC.

Two – I still think that Sylus is older than what his profile states. Why? Because we know now that he came to earth in 2034. Fourteen years prior to LAR. Which would – if his profile age is to be taken as truth – have made him 14 at that time. Now, dgmw Sylus is crazy powerful and honestly probably could have won a gang war and perhaps even conquered a planet etc at that age. However... it does not at all line up with the descriptions nor with the visuals we have of him at that time. In the Tangible Shackles video, he is in no way shape or form a 14 year old boy. Same goes for the Anecdote – he is described there as "a tall man" and having a "deep male voice" and "striking features". That's as far as the physical descriptions go. Nowhere in the text is there a single allusion to his being a kid, but rather the opposite. And I do believe that the text would have drawn attention to him being well below legal drinking age in a story like that.

And then there is ofc the Approaching Dusk image as well as this one of him breaking MC out of the Deepspace Collision Chamber (it destroys me btw).

Just compare MC who is roughly 8-9 here to Sylus. The size difference is massive. So no, that is not a 14 year old. They are not that huge, not even a Burj Khalifa on legs like Sylus.

Anyway, what we learned re: SylusMC's lore for sure puts both of these scenes in a different light

We all thought he was talking about their Beyond Cloudfall past here.

But no.

He is more than likely talking about their childhood etc here... "you were quietly moved to another garden in a foreign land" ie their separation in the Deepspace Tunnel, when they had earlier been two flowers growing up together in the same soil and who were supposed to keep growing together and ＿|￣|●💔 yeah. Thanks for breaking my heart again with the same scenes but with new context, game...

And on this note... fuck, man, do I feel even worse for poor Sylus now. Not only did MC forget him once, but twice. While he remembers everything – Beyond Cloudfall, the Gladiator Arena, being separated from her... and also knows just what she went through with EVER. He knows in what ways the love of his life suffered at the hands of evil people.

How the fuck has this man not crashed out yet. He is as mentally and emotionally strong as he is physically powerful imo.

And then there is just his sheer love for her. All the things he did for her: Running away together. (Possibly) being imprisoned. Searching the galaxy. Rescuing her from Dimitri, and giving her a chance to have autonomy and a normal childhood for the first time in her life. Devoting his own life to taking down the organization that hurt her.

And waiting for her. Always.

But even after everything still being ready to let her go. In spite of everything.

HE LOVES HER SO MUCH SOBSADFHUJHJ

I thought I loved Sylus before this update but I swear it has made me appreciate his character even more. What sorcery is that??? You can really tell how much thought and care his team has put into crafting him and his story.

And the same goes for MC. She got fleshed out here in all the best ways and I admire her immensely. I think that line she has about hoping that she made the Gaia Researchers even for a moment see her as the child she was rather than as an object or experiment says so heartbreakingly much about her and who she is.

The two together have so many fantastic moments in this story that had me giggling and kicking my feet. I honestly think it's more romantic/hot than some of the memory/date cards. But I won't talk about it more here or now because this is already way too long lol. Will probably just make individual posts for them.

Anyway, I do want to share some screenshots I took that made me lose my shit

I noticed the patterns on the bell when I was going to take another screenshot from LAR and omfg do you guys see it too????? Tell me I'm not reaching or deluding myself????? Ouuuu Sylus team you always gag me

STAYRUS MY LOVE YOU'RE BACK

I think it's pretty funny how chill MC is about Sylus having wings like she really don't care she just rolls with it (as she does with a lot of huge revelations tbh). Unbothered Queen.

This is one of my very favorite parts of the Kindled. Look how tenderly Sylus holds her here... shielding and protecting her the way he has all these 14 years, but physically this time. And you can see how MC genuinely feels safe in his arms. Oh, how far they've come since LAR...

Anyway, I'm gonna finally leave off here with a prediction for Sylus' future myth. I have an inkling it will take place before and after they escape from the Arena and up until Sylus gets imprisoned. That makes most sense to me. We need to know what they were up to in between and what led to Sylus' imprisonment. In other words I feel like I can taste the Gladiator & the space pirate lore. If I am wrong though, I'm betting it will be a Hades & Persephone inspired one. There have been quite a few references to greek mythology after all. Gaia. Charon. The River Styx. Tartarus. Not to mention the Pomegranate imagery and references. And probably more I can't think of rn.

Oh and I'd love to hear if any of you guys have any theories or things you noticed in this update! I would not be surprised if I've missed important details.

#lads spoilers #sylus x mc #sylusmc #Sylus

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