ozalysss

[ozalysss]

Kiss Me

Sylus x fem!Reader

I need to go back to bed ough

Warnings: fluff, light angst, drunkenness, drinking, crying, cuddling, self-esteem issues, self-worth issues

Word Count: 975

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Sylus holds a wine glass in one hand, holding it to the side as you climb onto his lap. Legs on either side of his, body arched to align with his, face ducked down to stay close to his; you truly are a sight to behold.

"Kiss me," you demand. Your hands trace his jaw, feeling his skin, the warmth underneath it.

He grins softly. It's not quite a smirk, though it holds that same smug amusement. His hand holds your hip respectfully. Fingers tug down the hem of your dress to keep you decent.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie."

You frown. "Why not?"

Oh, you sweet thing. Your eyes keep flickering about his face, lingering on his lips, his eyes, his lips again. He takes his sweet time sipping from his glass. A slight tint of red stains his lips, licked away by his tongue. He can see the way your eyes glaze over as you stare.

"You're drunk," he reminds you. "You almost polished off my nice, expensive wine. Did you forget?"

The wine wasn't important. It was expensive, aged to perfection, sitting on the rack waiting for the best occasion - and you had him refill your glass before he even finished his.

He doesn't envy the headache you'll have come morning.

Your thumbs run along the flat of his cheeks, stroking back to his sideburns, before you slip your hands around his neck and into his hair. You scratch so sweetly at his scalp. He should stop it, stop you from so effortlessly turning him into putty under your attention. But he doesn't.

You brush your nose against his. Your breath carries the subtle notes of the wine with it. "'M not that drunk. And you're pretty... Kiss me, please."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Something dark flashes across his eyes. A fleeting shadow. If it were not his lap you were in right now, how quickly would anyone else give in to you, with you so demanding and beautiful? "Because you're drunk," he insists again, softly.

You huff in annoyance. "Is that the only reason you're gonna give me? Told you already, I'm not that drunk."

"It's the fact you've been drinking at all, sweetie." You roll your eyes, turning your head away at the rejection. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing your attention back to him. "I want you to be completely sober for our first kiss. Is that such a bad thing?"

You blink at him dumbly for a moment. "First kiss?"

"Mhm."

A beat, and then those gorgeous lips are curling into a wicked little grin. "'First' implies that there'd be more."

He releases your chin to brush loose strands of hair from your face. "And I want you to be sober enough to remember every single one."

"But if we kissed now..." You lean into his touch like a cat, rubbing your cheek against his hand before he can pull it away. "... we could have another first kiss later."

He chuckles. "You really want this, don't you, kitten?"

You whine with a nod. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you draw yourself into him, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt.

"Sometimes it feels hard to love you," you admit in a whisper. "You have everything. And I have nothing. Nothing to give you to- to make it worthwhile. Cuz that's what you deserve."

His heart aches. He sets his glass aside to hug you in return. Your words become slurred as you continue speaking, slow and messy. But genuine. He wishes he had the will to silence you now, to hear it all when you're of sound mind. But he's weak to this truth and the desire to hear it at your most vulnerable.

"But I want to... I want to love you so bad. And I do. So much... But I have nothing. The only thing I can give you is..." You wave a hand limply at your body. "This mess."

You sigh, hiding your face in his warm neck. He leans his head on yours. You sniffle quietly.

"Would kissing me make you happy?"

He squeezes his arms tighter around you. Readjusts so you're sitting more comfortably across his lap instead of straddling him. He even grabs a blanket with his Evol to wrap it around your shoulders, tucking the corners in so you're protected from the cold in your little black dress that drives him wild.

"Being near you makes me happy," he answers. "Seeing you, hearing you, talking with you - everything about you makes me happy. I don't need your body to be happy. You don't need to throw yourself at me to love me."

You sniffle again. Hot droplets of water fall to his skin. Your voice shakes. "But would kissing me make you happy?"

"When you're sober," he begins slowly, carefully, "and I kiss you for the first time, I'll be the happiest man in the universe."

"Really?"

He gently pulls you from his neck. You've got tears already staining your cheeks. Makeup running, lip trembling. You're so beautiful.

He leans in. Your breath hitches in your throat, though he can't tell if it's from excitement or to fight back another sob. His lips brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, squeezing out tears that gather on his lips. They linger there for several seconds, before he finally pulls away. His hand comes up to hold your other cheek, wiping away the evidence of your overwhelming emotions.

"If you can remember that, you can cash it in for the real deal," he says, teasing and light, but with the weight of genuine care and concern. "Alright?"

You nod. "Alright."

He draws you back into him. "Now get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @leiakitty @loliesaregreat

[ozalysss]

Miraculous Ladybug Season 1 Episode 5: Marinette designs a pigeon themed hat for a design contest.

Miraculous Ladybug Season 6 Episode 5: Nathalie wins Adriens custody battle against his estranged grandparents.

[ozalysss]

When the yummy makes the aesthetics.

[ozalysss]

ID credit: monaixiao on 小红书

(please like, reblog and give proper credit if you use any of my gifs!)

[ozalysss]

Watashi no Shiawase na Kekkon 2 | Ep9 | Miyo. I want to tell you something so I won’t regret it. “No… I don’t want to hear it.” I love you. I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry it took me so long… to say it.

[ozalysss]

2.09, Queen of Hearts 6.20, The Song in Your Heart

[ozalysss]

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, his voice calm and coaxing, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

[ozalysss]

My Happy Marriage

[ozalysss]

shoutout to my brother for setting me up for this

[ozalysss]

logo of the game for a reason😌

[ozalysss]

A Surprise For Him

After more than a month of training and being apart, you unexpectedly returned to Linkon without notice to surprise him.

୨ৎ. Rafayel x Reader (MC)

୨ৎ. Tags: just pure fluff, cute and sweet, phone calls, no y/n as always

୨ৎ. Word count: ~800w

୨ৎ. Requested by Yuki

୨ৎ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (read more for current status)

Rafayel went home with the beautiful moonlight overhead. The antique camera was slung around his neck. He gripped it in one hand while hastily searching his pocket for his phone. 

The first name that flashed on the screen was undoubtedly the girl he adored the most. He tapped the call button. One beep, two beeps, then three… He waited forever but you didn’t pick up. Rafayel regarded the phone in his fingers with a serious gaze.

You must be busy. With the new training program, the Hunters Association had sent you to another city for two months. Sixty days may not seem like much when compared to the lengthy life of a Lemurian like him, but it did not help the time pass any faster.

Rafayel missed you. He did not even try to hide it. The hour-long calls every night, the emails of encouragement every day, the pictures he took of the beautiful but empty landscape without you… He poured all his heart into them. When you get accustomed to someone's presence in your life, their absence creates an even greater void.

Putting the phone back in his pocket, Rafayel sighed and kept strolling along the lonely street. He fiddled with the camera in his palm, thinking about the photos he had taken at the festival and how he wanted to show you when you returned home. Then his phone rang. 

Rafayel picked up almost immediately.

“Where have you been, my Miss Bodyguard? It’s ten past three. What if something happened to me in those three minutes? Like… I could trip over my paintbrush and fall. Or a thief could steal those precious pictures I wanted you to see, along with my camera…”

“Rafayel!” You giggled on the other end of the phone. “I haven’t forgotten our nightly ten o’clock call.”

“Then what did you do in those three minutes?”

“I… just had some work to do.”

If you were here, you would have seen the sullen look on Rafayel’s face. But he just replied:

“No matter how much work you have, you have to rest on time.”

“I understand. Don't worry.”

You happily told him about your day. Then it was his turn to talk about the festival on the other side of the beach that he had just attended.

“…I took a lot of pictures. I should mail them to you.”

“You don't have to do that.”

Rafayel had just entered the little road leading to his studio. He was a little saddened when he heard that. You quickly added:

“Actually, I want to see the pictures with you by my side.”

"Huh? You mentioned that the facility where you were training was really secure, and I wasn't even permitted to see you," Rafayel recounted what you had said the day you had departed.

“That’s true.”

"So I have to wait another two weeks to see the photos with you?"

A few seconds of silence elapsed. You, like Rafayel, must have sensed that time was moving way too slow. Then, on the other end of the line, you spoke:

“We don’t have to wait that long. We can see them now.”

Rafayel was astonished. He asked: “How? I might not be able to find a seagull that can fly that fast to your side.”

His Miss Hunter chuckled.

"Just open the gate."

Rafayel didn't understand what you meant. However, he was already in front of the studio gate. He recalled locking it before leaving, but a little push revealed that it was wide open. While he was standing there, he heard your voice calling his name.

"Rafayel!"

He heard your call, loud and clear as if you were present and not on the phone. Then, your figure rushed forward from nowhere and your arms were thrown around his neck.

It was you. It was really you.

“Am I in a dream?” Rafayel’s lips moved. He held you tightly, spinning you around with your feet dangling a few inches off the ground. When he put you down, you said, smiling:

“My training wrapped up early. Sorry for not telling you sooner. I wanted to see this surprised face of yours so much.”

You lifted your hands and softly pinched Rafayel's cheeks. As soon as you arrived at the airport, you rushed right to his studio. You were in such a haste that your hair was a mess. Rafayel gently brushed it with his hand, then grinned.

 “Now I'd want to see how frantic you were when you raced here. That would be a sight. Let's go inside. I’ll cook something for you while you take a look at my pictures, okay?”

[ozalysss]

♱⋅── angst. just rafayel completely breaking down the first time you tell him you love him (aka the fifty-third time he hears those words from you for the first time, and the fifty-third time he's asked you to marry him)

The first time you tell Rafayel, he doesn’t believe you.

“Do you really mean it?”

His voice cracks, just a little, and when he looks at you like that something aches deep inside your chest. He’s tense, almost frozen, and you realize he’s bracing himself, waiting for the wave to crash. Waiting to wake up alone again.

“Rafayel, my love, my silly fishie,” you coo, your voice soft and steady as you pull him closer, cupping his face ever so gently between your palms. “I love you.”

For a moment, he just stares up at you, a flicker of disbelief before his resolve shatters. A sob slips past his lips, broken and raw, and he’s leaning into your touch like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. He’s curling himself closer,  hands finding the curve of your hips like they were always meant to be there, clutching tightly as he almost falls into your embrace. Even then, his gaze never leaves yours, doe-eyed and pleading, as though he can’t quite believe this is real.

“I love your eyes,” you whisper, brushing your thumbs along his tear-streaked cheeks. “The way they hold all the depth of the ocean and all the love in the world.” You lean in, pressing a delicate kiss to each eyelid as they flutter shut under the warm caress of your touch.

“I love your nose,” you continue, your lips ghosting over his skin. “Even if it is prettier than mine.”

Rafayel laughs at that, something choked and almost breathless, his lips curving into a smile even as tears continue to fall. You pepper kisses around his nose bridge, a special, dramatic one at the very tip, and his laughter softens into a shaky sigh.

“I love the way you laugh,” you giggle back. “The way you smile.” You give him a chaste peck on the lips, pulling back just enough to see his face. He chases after your lips, a desperate, instinctual movement, and you give him a lopsided smile. “I love the way your voice sounds. I could listen to you talk for hours, you know that?”

“You already do.”

“Mhm,” you nod, already leaning back in for more. “I do.”

You barely finish the words “I do” before Rafayel closes the distance, his mouth crashing into yours. There’s no patience in his kiss, no restraint—just a deep, aching need. Like he’s terrified you’ll disappear between his fingers. You comfort him the only way you know how, letting him take as much as he wants, responding with equal fervor, your hands tangling into his hair as you pull him closer. 

Your tongue sweeps across his plush bottom lip before you nip it, tugging between your teeth, just enough to have him groan and let you in. Rafayel immediately pulls you up onto his thighs, close and closer still, and soon the slick, wet sounds of the kiss are covered only by your breathing and moans.

“I,” you begin between kisses, laughing when Rafayel groans in protest and drags you back to his mouth. “Also love,” another kiss. “Your— ah, Rafayel, let me finish.” You’re gasping out, half for the chance to talk and half simply for air, Rafayel kissing you like the need for breathing is secondary to his need for you. It might as well be, for him. 

His eyes are glazed and bleary with unshed tears when he finally pulls back, his lips swollen and red, his chest heaving. He looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful, like he’s scared to even blink. The sight of him, lovedrunk and adoring, has you smile like an idiot once again, your hand coming back up to cup his jaw, wiping at a tear falling from his right eye. 

“I love your heart, Rafayel,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair. “The way it never seems to have a limit on its love. The way you feel so wholly, so unashamedly, so fiercely.”

A broken sob escapes him, and he’s crumbling, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as his body shakes. You loop your arms around his neck, tracing gentle circles and hearts into his back, his ribs, holding him close as his tears soak through your shirt.

He cries like he’s finally letting go of centuries of grief, of lifetimes spent loving and losing you. You hold him through it all, pressing soft kisses to his temple, across his face all over again, whispering sweet promises as his tears flow freely.

When his voice finally stops shaking, Rafayel lifts his head, his eyes red and swollen, skin streaked with tears. Yet, beneath it all, buried beneath centuries of pain, there’s that same strength that’s made you fall for him in every lifetime. This strength to feel such pain, such loss, and still choose to hope. Still choose to love. 

Rafayel’s voice is hoarse, words trembling as he finally speaks again, saying,  “Marry me.” 

Your heart skips a beat. But Rafayel is already there to catch you, his hands shaking as they cradle your face, eyes searching yours like he’s waiting for the world to fall apart again. “Please... marry me.”

Again, there’s that pang in your chest. You lean in, brushing your lips against his in the softest, most tender kiss you’ve ever given him.

“Yes,” you promise. “Again and again, in every lifetime.”

Rafayel’s face crumples, and then he’s kissing you again, his tears mixing with yours as you lose yourself in his arms. And this time, when you say “I love you,” you feel the weight of every past life, every goodbye, every vow broken by time.

This time, you promise forever. And this time, Rafayel believes you.

♱⋅── Fun fact, I cried writing this and I cried re-reading this-- please don't perceive me. This was also written to Wiege by VIVINOS and Wildflower by Billie playing in the background on repeat, which only made it hurt so much more.

[ozalysss]

[07:23 am] — rafayel x reader

a soft morning with Rafayel - inspired by the "before sunrise" 5 star memory - wc; 387

The faint call of your name stirs you from your slumber, a warm hand inches along the side of your body and settles on your jaw as your eyes flutter open and attempt to focus on the blurry figure in front of you. You instinctively nuzzle your face against the palm that cradles you, a small hum leaving your lips as you do so.

���Hi, baby.” You whisper, your voice still thick with sleep—similar to how the clouds on the horizon continue to cling to the sea just beyond your bedroom window. “Did you just get into bed? I thought you said you'd only be an hour or two?”

Your attempt to chastise Rafayel's actions pairs poorly with how utterly adorable he thinks you look right now, with sleep still etched into your eyes and the absentminded way you're pressing yourself against his hand there isn't much you could say or do that would wipe the lovesick look from his face.

“Don't worry about it, angel.” He leans closer to you, his hand dropping from your face to your waist, and he plants a delicate kiss onto your forehead before speaking quietly. “I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry.”

You hum, your eyes are already droopy, and Rafayel knows that in a few minutes you'll be fast asleep again. Only this time he'll be by your side.

“M’kay.” You sigh dreamily, “as long as you're coming to bed now…”

He answers your unasked question by lying his head down next to yours and slipping one arm beneath your neck—he places the other firmly across your upper back, enveloping your sleepy frame completely. When he pulls you flush against his body the smell of paint and cologne washes over you and the last remaining wakefulness drains from your features as you breathe in his scent.

“I'll show you everything I was working on later, all right cutie?” Rafayel whispers against your head, before pressing another soft kiss to your forehead. “Sweet dreams, you.”

Rafayel's eyes flutter closed as your head nuzzles further against his neck. He feels your lips leave a gentle kiss just below his ear, and the tips of his ears redden surprisingly quickly. The sound of waves crashing against the shore fills the room, the perfect white noise to lull the artist to sleep.

divider by @/saradika

[ozalysss]

Thinking about Tamino!Rafayel and how much he and Enforcer!MC relied on each other. They are both fiercely independent and couldn’t care less if the world ended tomorrow. They both don’t have anything really to live for at the beginning.

But MC sees her chance in wrangling this Praedator and maybe finally getting some renown. Finally being able to make something happen for herself in this horrible city.

Rafayel is so intrigued by this woman who is haggling with him in the face of death. Here is this person talking to him, engaging him for the first time ever- he has never had human interaction as far as he can remember that was not directly antagonistic. So he saves her.

When she tells him to go make money to help out around here (she’s blushing too hard and can’t think so she just snaps at him) he does. It’s as simple as breathing. If doing the experiments and hunting down other Praedators is what keeps him in her presence fine. Hell that’s easy.

When she takes him to the opera, when he finds himself in the role of the main lead. Well it keeps him important to her. She looks at him with stars in her eyes but he doesn’t know what to do with that. He doesn’t know what to do with anything.

Enforcer!MC who thinks he must understand what she’s doing. That she’s devoted to him- that she wants him safe no matter what. She’s wrong in her gamble. He doesn’t know anything but cruelty and her. So when she becomes cruel well it just is what is bound to happen.

But he can’t stand leaving her. So he makes himself important- puts himself in a place that can protect her (even if he swears that’s not what he’s doing. But he knows he doesn’t care. He has no pride in Linkon, he hated the Praedators almost as fiercely as the humans)

So when he sees her. Hurt. He flashes back to a year ago when she needed him. Although she relied on his presence for so long he doesn’t know that.

So when he lets her go and she traps him again- the betrayal he feels stings. Here is this woman- the only person he’s ever viewed in even a mildly amiable way making him feel like an animal again.

But it’s over so quickly. The violence, the sting, the cruelty. And he’s free. There will be no trace of him and not a whisper of her

Tamino!Rafayel and Enforcer! MC are the definitions of the world could be burning and I have the answer but I’ll never risk you. Never.

It’s crazy how a different setting changes EVERYTHING

Rafayel will always be hopelessly selflessly devoted to MC and you can’t convince me otherwise

[ozalysss]

hello ! Could you do lad boys reaction to reader having a nightmare about them dying? Thank you!

You wake up clinging to him so tightly he makes a sharp noise of pain before finally seeing the look in your eyes. His hand reaches behind you to turn on a soft light, highlighting the glassy sheen on your eyes with tears that are sliding down your face.

He soothes you, holding you against his chest and gently cooing at you. He asks if you're alright, wanting to know what you saw in your dream that upset you so awfully. It doesn't matter how long it takes you to talk to him - he'll just hold you and comfort you as much as he can before figuring out what the problem is. When you confess that you had a nightmare about him dying he feels even worse, knowing that this anxiety has to be based in fear from his job or something that happened to him at some point.

He promises you that he's not going to leave you. He loves you and he does everything he can to come home to you. Rafayel and Zayne don't have as dangerous a job on the surface but he's not going to brush off your fear by telling you that you're overreacting and he's safe. He's going to validate your emotions, telling you that he promises he's okay.

Sylus and Xavier fall silent as he processes, knowing that he is honestly in a lot of danger. Rafayel too - even if you don't know the true extent of it. He'll hold you tighter, promising that he does everything he can to come home to you - nothing matters if he can't hold you in his arms at night. He swears it to you time and time again, and will do so every day before he leaves for work. He'll stop saying bye and instead say something along the lines of see you later, trying to soothe your fears by reminding you he never breaks his promises.

[ozalysss]

Despite having all the money in the world, Sylus prefers to make bouquets for you rather than buying them. He can afford the most extravagant floral arrangements yet he enjoys the process of creating something beautiful for his beloved. He takes the time to craft each bouquet himself and he's meticulous about it. He carefully picks the flowers, ensuring that the colors and their meanings align with his feelings for you. His hands, accustomed to guns and violence, arrange the petals with utmost care. He removes any thorns, if there are any, because he knows that seeing your smile when you receive the bouquet will be worth it.

[ozalysss]

Mushroom Embroidery Necklace - Foxglove & Holly