*.ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Happy Birthday 🥳🥳🥳

young, tall, slender, and stupid-in-love simon riley, who’s first mission was to bring you back to the base like a fucking package. the task force had never negotiated with captives on the line, but there’s a first time for everything.

with a sack over your head and your hands tied behind your back, a gruff man yelled out in the rain pouring down above you.

“you’ve got such a perky set for someone so fucking whiny”

“fuck you” you spat, the man wasted no time to grab the sack by his closed fist and yank it clean off your head.

the masked man stared directly into your eyes, his were dark, lit by lust and pure fire. the rain pouring around you did nothing to put a stop to his stare, but as you stared back, his demeanor changed by a singular degree.

“you better watch your fucking mouth,” he grabbed you by the neck and squeezed, causing a raspy squeal to escape your lips, “or i might just have to leave your pretty ass here”

you squirmed underneath the weight of his hand, “be better then going with you.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” simon dragged you by the throat to the ajar car door like a kitten, “just get in the fucking car” he followed behind you, managed to sneak a squeeze from your ass as he hauled in.

simon riley, who makes himself comfortable with you perched on his lap for the duration of the long car ride. your rain-soaked shirt was torn off hours ago, and simon’s lips haven’t managed to get enough of your pretty nipples.

“mmph, such a pretty pup for letting me - fuckk - letting me taste you”

his hands grabbed and squeezed everywhere - your hips, your ass, that pretty belly of yours.

“too bad you’re such a brat”

you grind your hot cunt on his length in retaliation and moaned, “you like it”

simon’s lips crashed onto yours out in an instant, swallowing your breath and any further remarks. you fisted his mask and tore it off completely before threading your fingers through his dirty blonde hair and tugging.

“ungh, fuck you, takin’ off my mask like you own me.”

you snickered into the kiss as his hand snuck under the waistband of your pants.

“want you to own me, pretty.”

Hii can i request lad boys fake being drunk to get a reaction/pampered by reader who is difficult at showing emotions, but got soft after seeing them drunk?

uhhhh honestly i only wanted to write rafayel for this LMAO hes the only one i can see faking being drunk to do this so im only writing him for this sorry :(( not the others bc i just. my brain wont process it :((

Rafayel's eyes stared you at, a little unfocused in a way you were attributing to the alcohol. He knows he's just pretending but he also knows he's damn good at acting, He rests his head on his forearm and stares up at you with a look that's equal parts affectionate and bleary. Perfect.

You don't really say anything but he knows you've fallen for it when you sit up and start replacing his alcohol with water and trying to get him to eat something more than the snacks he was lightly picking at. He didn't even really drink that much but when you pull a blanket off his couch to wrap around his shoulders he can't stop the way his heart races at the soft show of affection.

He'll never tell you that whenever he does this he's fully aware of the fact that you think he's too drunk to remember anything. He doesn't want to abuse the trust you have for him so this will be his dirty little secret. He adores being able to just lean up against you and say nonsense that you actually respond to this time instead of ignoring, not wanting to make him sob dramatically as he did once before when he was wasted.

He only wishes you felt more comfortable showing him this side of yourself when he was sober, but he also is more than happy to let you show him the parts of you slowly over time. He'll wait patiently for that day to come but for now he'll enjoy how you're letting him put his head in your lap as you awkwardly try to show him more physical affection than you're used to.

LADS react to you asking them to set you up with someone else

This was a fun request. I might slip some dynamic duo rivalry here.. hmm.. maybe this is the same universe as loft talk. This is pre relationship prank!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus (Rafayel)

"Hey, Sy. Can you set me up with one of your roommates?" "I don't have roommates." "? What do you mean. You have four roommates. I want the artist!" "No I absolutely do not. What artist?"

Would NEVER let you meet Rafayel, no matter what it takes. Rarely ever bring you back to the loft anymore.

Considered moving out of the loft and everything but stopped once you tell him it's a prank.

Xavier (Jeremiah)

"Xavie, is Jeremiah seeing anyone?" "I don't know a Jerry." "Jeremiah." "I don't know who that is either."

He gets SOOOO jealous (that's why we like him)

Why would you ask him to set you up with someone else. He's right there. He's perfect for you in every way. 🥺🥺🥺 - Xavier, probably

Rafayel (Sylus)

"Can you set me up with one of your friends?" "I don't have friends." "Yes you do! That fruit guy is breathtaking!" "You know what else is breathtaking? If I were to hold his head underwater." "Sorry?" "I said I am also breathtaking!"

He fish. Fish forgor stuff. Roommate? Who? Sylus? Thomas? Who???? What are you talking about?

Becomes extra mean to Sylus the next day and Sylus was so confused as to why is his bestfriend who is not his bestfriend seems to hate him more than usual!?

Zayne (Greyson)

"Dr. Zayne, can you set me up with Greyson?" "Why?" "Because.. I want to?" "His name is Doctor Greyson, and do you really want to..?" "Yes please! Set me up with Dr. Greyson!" "...." "Zayne?" "If that's what you want."

I don't think he's gonna try to stop you nor does he realize you're testing the waters to see how he feels about you, defeatedly gives Greyson your number, but Greyson was so confused because why would he hit up Zayne's girlfriend???

"She's your girl, Zayne." "She is not." "Yes she is, she's just testing to see how you'd react, dummy. Now go and actually ask her out."

Caleb (Gideon)

Before you start pranking him, you prayed for Gideon's safety.

"Caleb, can you set me up with-" "He's gay." "I haven't even said a name!" "Yeah, everybody around me is gay. I'm their ally." "Caleb!!!"

He'd frown and keep telling you why would you need anybody else when you can have HIM. He's the one who knows you the best! He knows how to make you smile! He's 100% your boyfriend material! 😤

a garden of my love || alucard/reader

This one has been slowly rotating in my brain like a rotisserie chicken for a few months now, so I'm glad it's finally out of my head and actually on a page :D

Pairing: Alucard (Castlevania)/Reader

Warnings: angst, hanahaki, character death, hurt/no comfort

Word count: 3.2k

ao3 link

It was late October. Most leaves had already fallen off the trees; the only surviving ones were desperately clinging to branches, all brown and crumbly with death. The sun was shining, but the breeze made your skin prickle with goosebumps despite the warm cloak you had fastened around your shoulders. You were carrying a basket full of food. It was all still warm — steam was gently puffing from beneath the cloth you covered it all with.

It was Alucard’s birthday. So, just like all the years before, you prepared all of his favorites as a gift. You couldn’t really afford lavish clothes or books, but you had plenty of food; so, you gave him your cooking instead.

You didn’t have much — never had, not really, but that rang especially true after Dracula’s war on humanity. Your house got ransacked by night creatures, leaving you to wander from city to city, collecting scraps or hunting in the forest. One day, you ended up in Gresit.

That’s how you met him.

- - - 

Judging by the stories you’d heard in your youth, Gresit was always ugly. But the recent war took that ugliness and transformed it into a picture of despair. Wherever you turned lay dead bodies, limbs spread-eagle, faces scrunched up in an eternal mask of fear. Even if you’d seen it many times before, it still made your stomach churn.

Ever since you’d lost your home, you kept yourself afloat by hunting — mostly hunting, at least. You wished you could say you’d never stolen in your life, but that would’ve been a lie. At least that wasn’t your primary way of getting food.

Usually, you ate only some of the meat from the animals you killed and sold the rest of the carcass, skin and whatever antlers included. But on that particular day, your hunt ended up a failure — most of your traps were empty and all you managed to get with your arrows were a few rabbits. Enough food for a day or two, but if you were to survive on their meat alone, you’d have to eat them all. All you’d be left with would be pelts. You knew from experience that rabbit pelts sold relatively cheap. The three you’d have left by the end of your meals wouldn’t be enough to buy the next one.

So, unfortunately, you had to settle for eating only one of the rabbits and selling the other two whole instead. Not the ideal solution, but maybe it’d get you enough money for a shitty bed in an even shittier inn. If there were any functioning ones left in this goddamned city.

On your way towards the market, you passed by a group of three strangers; two of them — a red-headed woman and a man in tattered clothes — were passionately arguing. Something about the group gave you pause.

You’d only just arrived in the city, but you’d already overheard your fair share of rumors about the battle that took place yesterday night. Apparently a speaker magician and someone thought to be a Belmont led the city’s forces against the night creatures. One of the strangers was clad in Speaker’s robes, the other one had a Belmont crest on his shirt. At least that part checked out. Who the third stranger was, the one sitting in shadow, you did not know. What you did notice about him, however, was that he was incredibly pretty. Distractingly so, almost.

Against your better judgment and possibly all kinds of common sense known to man, you walked towards them. After all, who’d want to get involved in Belmont business? Everyone knew how that ended for those unfortunate bastards; you weren’t exactly keen on getting killed by some overly religious fella with a sword like they had been.

Still, you walked on. Something in your gut told you this was the right thing to do. That maybe it was fate that led you to them that day, as ridiculous as that sounded.

‘What do you want?’ the Belmont barked in your general direction, side-eyeing you from his spot by the wall.

‘I’m not sure I know myself,’ you replied, shrugging.

‘Then be so kind and fuck off.’

‘Trevor!’ yelled the Speaker. If looks could kill, the man would’ve fallen dead on the spot.

‘What? We’re all thinking it.’

‘You’re just as charming as you look, then,’ you said. The dead rabbits you’d holstered to your belt were bleeding all over the side of your thigh. It got uncomfortable quickly in the cold breeze.

‘Could say the same thing about you.’ Trevor didn’t even bother to look up this time. He chose to marvel at all the empty bottles around them instead.

‘He does have a point though,’ said the Speaker. ‘Why did you approach us?’

‘Let’s just say I’m listening to my gut for once.’ You gestured to the bow hanging from your back. ‘You need an archer?’

- - -

After the dust settled and Trevor and Sypha left to chase adventure, you decided to stay with Alucard. Partly for your own sake — you didn’t exactly fancy the drifter lifestyle; plus, sleeping in a warm bed every night did sound really good — and partly for his. You’d been entertaining the idea of staying somewhere around Alucard ever since your little group got to Belmont Hold. But all it took for you to make that final choice was one look at his defeated expression; you’d never seen someone look as lost as he did, watching his father’s burning corpse.

So you stayed.

- - -

You gave him some space after Trevor and Sypha left. You weren’t strangers per say, but you weren’t friends either. You didn’t want to intrude. He deserved at least a few hours to himself.

Instead, you decided to forage in the nearby forest for some dinner. You’d run out of arrows during the battle, so you couldn’t hunt for now, as much as you’d like to. You managed to find some wild onions and herbs — wasn’t exactly dinner material, but if the castle had some dried meat in there somewhere, you could make something out of it.

You were about to turn back when you stumbled upon a whole bunch of beautiful apple trees. You figured they didn’t really belong to anyone, being in the middle of a forest and all. And, even if they did, the owner wouldn’t mind losing one or two apples. Or ten.

You filled up your bag with the fresh fruit; what you couldn’t fit there you carried in your shirt instead. You did drop a few of the apples on your way back to the castle, but you had enough to last relatively long. There was no point in turning back for just a couple of them.

By the time you came back, the sun was setting. You hoped those few hours of alone time did Alucard some good; and that he was ready to talk again. At least to talk long enough to make some food. You had no idea where what was in that huge castle. Let alone something like a pantry. Or a kitchen,

You circled the entire first floor looking for Alucard — no sign of him at all. The second floor, same thing. You gave up on yelling his name eventually; you didn’t want to ruin your throat.

‘I swear, if he’s huddled up somewhere in the basement, I will…’ you stopped mid-sentence when you saw light dancing beneath one of the closed doors. You sighed in relief. ‘Finally.’ You opened the door with your shoulder. ‘Hey, I went looking for some food and I found quite a few…’ you stopped again. But this time, it was for a different reason entirely.

His face was all swollen and his eyes were red-rimmed. Drying tears shone against his skin in the muted light of the fire. When he saw you come in, he tried to quickly wipe them away, but by the time he did, fresh ones started falling.

‘Oh,’ you managed to say. How eloquent of me, you thought. ‘Do you… do you want me to leave?’ you said, shoulders drooping slightly. You knew the death of his father would hit him hard — hell, you’d lost your own! — but you didn’t expect it to hit him this hard.

Then again, you hadn’t had to kill your father, so you didn’t have that much insight into his situation.

He swallowed with difficulty, snot blocking his throat. He moved to wipe the tears away again, but he stopped himself mid-way through. ‘I… I don’t know,’ he whispered, voice breaking.

You nodded and put away the apples; some of them rolled all the way to the other side of the room. ‘Okay.’ You cleared your throat. ‘How about we just… sit together for a while? And then you decide if you’d like me to go or to stay, or if you’d want to talk, we can do just that, okay? Or, well, I can do just that. The leaving part, anyway.’

He chuckled; the sound was unusually wet. ‘You’re awful at this.’

You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. ‘I know. Part of my charm, I suppose,’ you said, and sat on the floor next to him, with your back to the wall.

He smiled a sad, gentle smile. ‘I suppose so too.’

- - -

Years had passed since. And, in the meantime, the birthday feast became a tradition. It was your idea — he hadn’t even thought about celebrating his birthday since his parents’ deaths; something told you that had it not been for you, he’d probably never celebrate it again.

So, every year, without fail, you presented him with a tablefull of delicious treats. In the second year of you living together, Trevor and Sypha visited and stayed long enough to take part in this little celebration. In the third year, the two of you stumbled upon two lost hunters creeping in the forest. What happened after became a taboo, an unspeakable secret worn on Alucard’s skin. In year three, you realized that your devotion to him might be a lot more than you’d like it to be.

In year four, he met Greta.

She was wonderful in every sense of the word. Strong, brave, smart, funny. She made a great friend to both him and you, and a great leader to her people. One of your sweetest memories was sitting with her in the kitchen late at night, a pint of beer in your hands and laughter on your lips. The other one was helping her and the villagers built their new homes around the castle.

You’d be stupid not to notice the way he looked at her.

Ever since you’d realized what your feelings for him were, you decided to push them all down. After everything he’d been through your… attraction would only bring him pain. And that was the last thing you wanted for him. Besides, being someone close enough to him to be called his friend was an honor, you told yourself. Lover or not, he was the most important person in your life and you’d never risk ruining all of that over a stupid crush. It would pass, like they all always had.

So, you let time run its course. You watched Alucard and Greta get close and, despite the dull pang in your chest, you were genuinely happy for them.

After all, they were perfect for each other.

In year five, they finally got engaged. That’s when it all went to hell.

The whole village celebrated the news. All the hunters went out to the forest and all brought something back — yourself included. There was a huge bonfire and enough meat to feed everyone and then some. There was dancing, singing, music. Alcohol poured out of every corner. Everyone was giddy with laughter. Especially the freshly engaged couple — both of them with crowns of freshly picked flowers on their heads. You helped the children make them as gifts.

Everything was perfect. So, so perfect. You got drunk enough to get nauseous. You managed to stumble your way to a nearby bush to puke. You were too out of it to notice the petals swimming in the putrid liquid.

- - -

By the next day, the cough started. You chalked it up to a bad cold and moved on. Alucard was a bit worried when he noticed how pale you were, but you quickly dismissed him, telling him to go back to Greta. You were fine, a little cough wasn’t going to kill you.

Was it now?

A few weeks passed by, but the cough wasn’t getting any better. Quite the opposite, actually. Eventually it got to the point where you had to take a breather after walking up to your castle room. Luckily enough, no one noticed. You were sure it would pass if you just gave it enough time.

Then, the pain came. Sometimes it felt like something stabbing itself into the inside of your chest, sometimes it felt more like a pressure, rising until you could barely catch a breath.

That’s when Alucard decided that enough was enough. He forcibly got you to bed and ordered you to stay put until he figured out what was wrong with you.

Like hell you were gonna do that. Not after the petals you coughed up into your hand.

You ended up sneaking into the great, expansive library of the castle. After all, if you were to find an answer anywhere, it would be there. Or in the Belmont Hold, but that was plan B because of all the walking.

Night after night, you poured over books in hopes of finding an answer. The sleepless nights were starting to get to you. You tried to sleep as much as you could during the day, but your illness — whatever it was — wasn’t exactly helping with your tiredness.

‘What the hell do you do at night, exactly?’ asked Alucard, after changing the cold compress on your forehead.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t play dumb with me. You’re tired as all hell. And you shouldn’t be, if you really were sleeping both at night and during the day.’

‘I’m sick…!’ you protested weakly; judging by his expression, that excuse didn’t work.

‘Sure.’ He cocked a brow. ‘If you don’t want to tell me now, don’t. But don’t expect me to just let you do whatever when you’re this ill. You’re not just my friend, you’re my patient as well.’ He took the basin of cold water from the dresser and rested it on his hip. ‘I won’t let you run yourself into the ground because of whatever it is you do at night.’

You huffed a breath. When he realized you weren’t going to answer him, he sighed through his nose.

‘I mean it. Take care of yourself, please. We’re all worried about you.’

‘I know,’ you said, voice hoarse. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Nothing to be sorry for. Just, please, actually sleep at night.’

- - -

The night after that, you finally found your answer. Sitting on the ground, skimming a very old, very tattered book. The writing was so worn it was barely readable in the candlelight.

What you were suffering from was a kind of curse. At least according to the book. It befell those who were unhappily in love. You frowned at that. Love was a bit of a strong word, wasn’t it? Sure, you were fond of Alucard, but love? A bit of a stretch. Right?

‘There you are,’ said Alucard. His sudden appearance made you jump; the books around you fell onto the ground with a thud.

‘Don’t scare me like that!’ You hadn’t even heard him approach.

‘Oh, please.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I’m losing sleep at night because you keep getting worse no matter what I do, and you’re sneaking into the library?’

You swallowed the petals threatening to spill out of your throat. ‘I’m looking for answers.’

‘Answers to what, exactly?’

‘To what’s wrong with me.’ You sighed and closed the book, hoping to whatever god was up there that he hadn't seen the page you were on. ‘No medicine is working, so I thought I’d do some… research myself.’

‘And did you find anything?’

You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. Eventually, you settled on an answer. ‘No, not really.’

‘Then please, go back to bed and leave the research to me, okay?’ he said, kneeling on the floor next to you. ‘No need to push yourself like that.’

‘You’re right,’ you replied with a sigh, putting the book away.

One line burned itself into your mind; no cure.

- - -

And now, nearly half a year later, you were slowly trekking from the castle to Alucard and Greta’s new ‘office’; at least that’s what they called it. Initially, it was supposed to be the village’s control center, but, with time, it turned into their second house. They were spending more time there than in their castle chambers these days.

You expected Alucard to yell at you for doing all that cooking. You could hear him already. ‘You shouldn’t have done that’ and ‘Think of your health!’, and ‘You’re already weak as it is, what if something happened to you?’. To be perfectly honest, you found the way he worried about you so much quite endearing. It made you glad that, despite him being happily married, you still held an important spot in his heart.

You couldn’t say the same about some of your before-the-war friends, may the earth be light for them.

The basket was getting quite heavy though. As much as you wanted to deny it, it dug into your skin more and more with every step. The golden honeysuckles threatening to burst out of your chest certainly didn’t make anything easier.

Apparently they meant ‘devoted affection’ in the language of flowers. Well, at least that much was true when it came to your feelings for Alucard. Although you weren’t entirely sure if the kind of flowers really meant anything in the case of your curse. Maybe adding meaning to it all simply made your illness a bit easier to stomach for you. Maybe not.

The spot where the basket handle dug into your arm was starting to really hurt. Before this curse, your arms were something you were proud of — strong and reliable, the arms of a true archer. Now that all of your glory had been eaten away by the curse, all that remained of your previous profession were the calluses on your hands; eternal proof of what you used to be.

You started choking on your breath. Your legs dragged across the dirt road, leaving deep trenches in the fresh mud. Still, you pressed on. You were that much closer to Alucard and Greta’s new house. You weren’t going to give up now. Not when this could be the last birthday feast you’d ever throw for him.

Sweat dripped down your face. Some of it got into your eyes; the stinging blinded you for a moment. As you moved to wipe the sweat away, you lost footing on the slippery mud. You fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the side of your head colliding with a rock.

Blood pooled around you, drenching the warm food that spilled out of the basket you were cradling in your arms. And beside it all was a single, dirtied petal of honeysuckle.

The wind blew. The petal flew with it.

Check out my dragon masterlist for more delicious stuff 🖤

press start! — pop off shoyo (20/22)

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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Zayne is fairly misunderstood.

…and he uses it to his advantage.

Bless your heart, really, you’ve not only misunderstood his intentions — but severely underestimated him as well.

Zayne, your sweet, stoic, not all that affectionate Zayne.

You respect his boundaries — Akso hospital’s pride and joy chief cardiac surgeon had a reputation to uphold. And even if it killed him, you never tried to cross any lines. He couldn’t be seen smothering you with his kisses, pushing you up against his office wall with one hand squeezing your pretty tit, his thigh shoved between your legs and—

Cheeks flushed and ears burning red, Zayne adjusts his glasses as you continue to ramble through the typical physical checkup questions.

You’d been too tired to catch the doctor daydreaming — or fantasizing might be a better word for his train of thought.

“Have you been taking time to perform self care?” Ambiguous, sure. Suggestive? Maybe. Zayne would do anything to keep that pretty mouth of yours going. Let him get lost in thought for a little longer and—

“What kind of self care?”

Several ideas flash through his mind and he has to clear his throat before looking away. Whatever shreds of self composure he could find, he needed to tie together and try and make it through the next ten minutes.

“Well…” but it was too damn late.

Such a pervert. Zayne’s head is full of some of the most impure, immoral, scandalous thoughts his touch starved mind could conjure. He’s suddenly all too thankful his desk has a panel in the front, hiding his lower half from sight.

He doesn’t mean to. He respects you wholeheartedly, would never make sleazy comments towards you or so much as make a crude joke with his dry humor.

But — gods above — he craves you so desperately.

Sometimes his mind gets the better of him, like right now, when he’s been so frustrated with work he hasn’t even found a moment of peace to himself to even consider unwinding in any way possible.

“…have you ever tried facials?”

Banner from @cafekitsune <3

suna rintarou as your bsf that lowk wants you BAD

tags/warning : segsual jokes (as always) , lowk fanon suna but like i’m obsessed

the people asked for more and i shall deliver 😞🙏

part1/part2/part3/part4/part5

Premise : you’ve been best friends with suna since high school and you both knew that the other doesn’t like commitment. you still want each other tho.

“Daddy sing!”

Youe three year old daughter squeals, standing on her tippy toes as she grabs the end of the couch as a support to stand up. Bouncing on her feet as she approaches her daddy. Requesting him to sing and you awkwardly cough, suppressing the laugh threatening to spill from your lips.

Knowing your daughter who takes after her father. It wasn't any good and you're here to witness that moment. “You want daddy to sing?” You asked your toddler. Your daughter enthusiastically nods as you take her hand to assist her in standing, there's a wobble on her steps but manages to balance on her own before letting her go to walk towards her daddy.

Her soft, fluffy white hair moves in sync with her actions. Her red eyes gleaming with mischief, although innocent and she still have not quite grasp what her actions is, it was obvious that she takes after her father.

“Daddy sing!” Your daughter demanded again and who is Sylus to deny what his daughter wanted.

It is known that Sylus, your husband have many talents but singing isn't one of them. His singing voice can be described as unique but to his daughter, his spoiled little princess finds it beautiful or rather entertaining.

Sylus picks up his daughter and placed her on his lap. The same blood ruby colored eyes stares at his own. Sylus gaze softens at his little princess and then he began to sing.

It didn't take long before his daughter bursts in fits of laughter. Her infectious cute giggles filling the room. “You're making fun of your daddy's voice, princess.”

“Nuh uh.” You daughter shakes her head in denial but her body vibrates with laughter. “Sing again, daddy!” Sylus obediently complies with her daughter's request.

As he sang, he glances at the mother of his children. You were laughing too while you rock the baby to sleep cradled in your arms. At least, he was entertaining both of his princesses. The little one in your arms is yet to join the moment. For now it is enjoying the luxury of sleep.

It is said that his singing voice is enough to make babies cry but to his daughter, it made her laugh. Similar to her mother who literally cried during your pregnancy with your daughter if he doesn't sing. He guesses his daughter must have gotten used to it as he sang in your round, pregnant belly.

Well, you love it. Sylus sings lullabies to you when you can't fall asleep and before you knew it, you wanted to hear him sing to you every night and your daughter wanted it too.

Sylus, the fearsome leader of the N109 Zone and runs the underground world is a father and husband who sings lullabies whenever her daughter wanted. It's hard to imagine he does that but you'll never find out. You'll be carrying it to the grave.