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lovin' him is burning red

Summary:

a collection of one shot/headcanon/ramblings about dating sylus. some dirty, some precious...some angsty. we'll roll the dice here and see what we get

Chapter 1: if you go, i'm going too

Summary:

in which sylus saves you from a injury in the no-hunt zone ... small little one-shot where sylus chides you for not taking him with you into battle.

Chapter Text

You didn't want to call for backup. But with the blood oozing from your shoulder, and the way you didn't know where the hell in the No-Hunt Zone you were, it was past the time you should. With a grunt, you make a few taps on your hunter watch. Before you know it, it's ringing and you're waiting for Sylus to pick up.

It rings exactly twice before he answers. He sounds incredibly bored as he say, "Hello?" You're almost sure he didn't look at the caller ID before answering.

"Ah -- I may have done something stupid."

There's a brief pause. You hear tapping on his end. Then miraculously, you hear it: a cawing nearby. "I'll be there soon. Until then, Mephisto will start first-aid. Don't move, and don't attract anything to you." The line goes dead.

You grit your teeth when Mephisto starts to treat you just like Sylus said he would. He's got gauze in his beak, and presses it firm against my shoulder to slow the bleeding.

"Thanks," you murmur to him. "Sorry for yelling at you the other day."

The bird gives a simple caw before continuing the aid. It takes less than five minutes for Sylus to arrive, appearing in a swirl of black and red mist. He's quick and efficent.

"Oh kitten," he says, picking you up. He minds your cries, shifting you so he doesn't jostle you too much. "Coming out here by yourself is foolish, not brave." He mutters.

You groan, your head falling against his chest. "I didn't -- I didn't have time to call for back-up!"

"You never do," he says with a shake of his head. "Hold on to me. We'll get you a doctor as soon as we get back to the N109 zone. I know all of them personally, and they'll make sure you get the top care."

It sounds almost like a threat to the doctors, so you snort, even through the pain. But he shoots you a genuine glare, and you quiet back down.

Finally you offer: "I'm sorry."

You almost think he won't respond. Instead, you feel his lips press to your forehead. "I will never keep you from battle, kitten. Just take me with you."

It's unspoken. Take him with you, because if you go, he's going too.