#but no this is not only about love and deepspace

[lum1nesc3nce]

Liar?¿

Not proofread! i just think write and post lols. Fluff and gn!reader. I just love nonchalant pathetic men who r losers in love.

Liar. He thinks his actions do not reveal what he is keeping inside him, what he thinks and what is happening to him. Oh he thinks he is being so discreet and nonchalant about but a fool he is, a fool for you.

He lies to himself that he is fine. Fine with your hands brushing when he passes you an object. Fine with the way your shoulders brush against each other when you walk together. Fine with the way your knees touched while sitting. Fine with the way your eye contact lasted a little longer than usual. Fine with the way his eyes accidentally wander to your lips. He keeps lying that everything is fine.

Fuck. He is going insane.

Nothing is fine. He is not fine. Not with the way his eyes always wander to find you. Not with the way his heart always goes faster whenever he is with you. Not with the way his ears turn red when he tries to hide his face from you. Not with the way he starts to fumble his words while he thinks "you're too close" in his head again and again. He is losing his mind and his mind is losing to you.

You're wicked and he is a liar. You're wicked for being so enchanting that he can't help but feel his world spinning around. You're wicked that you don't know the effect you have on him. You're wicked that you don't even know. What you're doing to him.

He is just a helpless fool around you. Will you be a little kinder to his heart? It's about to burst in your hands the way it always belonged to you.

You're definitely wicked, you definitely cast a spell on him to go this insane because of you. But dear gods he is only your fool.

Rafayel and zayne (love and deepspace), GOJO, choso, yuuji, Megumi ( jjk) Childe, neuvillete, wriothesley, Diluc, Wanderer, Al haitham. (Genshin Impact) Mydei, Phainon, Dr Ratio, and Dan heng (honkai starrail).

Anyways Please tell me how you feel? It's my first time writing a fic scenario ig? So advice is appreciated 😝😝😝🙏

Have a great day ♡

[always-just-red]

Super self-indulgent addition to the poly series for my birthday!!! (Works as a standalone fic!) If you see this today you have to reblog, as a gift to me! And this fandom 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ *gets struck by lightning for my hubris*

Breaking Point

L&DS Boys X Reader

(No Caleb yet! I'm not confident in writing him and I wanna make sure I do it right! He'll be joining this series later though, for sure for sure...)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 / ?

Summary: I can't spoil the plot because it's a surprise but just trust me, ok? Look into my eyes! Right here! 👁️👁️ You want to read this. You really do.

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, platonic-ish! poly, some flirting, swearing, all the guys come with health warnings in this because like I said, it's self-indulgent! (I'm giving me everything I want 😌)

| Word count: 4.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You only have one life, and it’s Sylus’s to take.

He’s stalled. Denied himself the pleasure of snuffing it out, like he was always supposed to. You thought it was sentiment: a fondness that saw him shoot you with nothing more deadly than a wink or a smile, not that those weren’t their own, trivial little murder attempts. Now, he wants something permanent. Something that’ll stick.

His gun is pressed into your back, but you can’t resent him for it. If your gun was at his back, you would have already pulled the trigger.

“It isn’t too late to stop this, Sylus,” you mutter quietly, because the sentiment is there— no matter how deep he’s buried it. You’ll show it to him, even with raw hands and dirt under your nails.

You try to turn but the gun presses harder, urging you forwards like every other time you’ve attempted to slow or reason with him. “All’s fair in love and war, sweetie,” he says with a smile in his voice, and you wonder which one it is: that slow, nostalgic one, or the one he saves for his enemies. All teeth. All sharp. “You understand, don’t you?”

This is all your fault.

The dark, narrow corridor you’re being paraded down is coming to an end. It opens up into a larger room with abstract furnishings: block-like pillars and walls, lined with spidery strips of neon lights. They glow a weak purple, some flickering eerily. It’s still dark, and there are shadows everywhere.

Sylus swings you under a faint spotlight in the centre of the space. “I know you’re there,” he announces to the darkness, one hand on your shoulder, possessive.

There’s no response from the void. Can he hear something? A baited breath, somewhere out in the shadows, or a heartbeat, tripping over itself on adrenaline? You can’t hear a thing; the silence is too thick. Perhaps he made a mistake. Perhaps—

“What do you want, Sylus?” a voice calls out from behind a pillar— Zayne. By the time you look over, he’s pressed himself back against cover, out of sight, out of range.

“Let’s talk about this, yeah?” Rafayel, from behind a low wall.

Sylus tugs you closer: wraps you in a heavy arm so his gun is in front of you, angled inwards at your heart. He’s always loved a dramatic irony, even if it’s private— just for the two of you. “A Deepspace Hunter for a Deepspace Hunter,” he bargains. “More than fair, wouldn’t you say?”                                                                      

“You don’t have to do this, Xavier!” you shout.

“Ah, ah,” Sylus tuts, his warm breath tickling your ear: “Don’t be a hero, sweetie.”

More silence follows, but you know your fate is being decided in the dark. Amethyst eyes are pleading with peridot. Fire is trying to thaw ice. You can imagine the artist gesturing wildly, mouthing arguments, and the doctor solemnly shaking his head— ever trying to solve an unsolvable problem.

None of it matters, because Xavier is already stepping into the light. Hands up in surrender, weapon stowed at his side. His face is a storm and the flickering neon betrays it like lightning. Look— it warns. Divine violence.

Sylus’s hand tenses, ever so slightly, on your shoulder. You look at Xavier. He looks back at you.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” he says softly, and you’re in the centre of the storm, where it’s safe and it’s quiet and nothing outside can reach you, let alone hurt you. It won’t last, but it exists. You’re glad it exists.

“It’s okay,” you speak on a whisper.

You know how this has to end. Sylus can’t see it. Rafayel and Zayne— both peeking their heads out of cover— can’t see it either, but you? Of course you do. It’s an instinct: Deepspace Hunter to Deepspace Hunter, like Sylus said. Two edges of the same sword.

When Xavier draws his gun at light speed and shoots you with it, you’re the only one not surprised.

“What?” Sylus gasps as red spills over you.

But Xavier doesn’t stop. An onslaught: he fires relentlessly, aim not letting up for a second. His gun flashes over and over again and the sound is harsh on your ears as he closes in, indifferent.

“Sorry, sweetie,” you hear Sylus murmur, and then you’re shoved forwards— limp and useless— into the arms of your attacker.

Xavier catches you, his gun finally falling silent. The air had gone thick for a moment. Time had slowed. Space had twisted. A few, glistening crow feathers waltz around you, and you glance down at your vest. The lights on it have stayed red.

That was your last, stupid life. The digital counter on your gun is stuck at: ‘000’.

“Thanks,” you say to Xavier anyway, because you wouldn’t have struck the floor quite so gracefully as the feathers.

He’s frowning— staring after Sylus— but your voice brings him back to you. He looks down with a devastatingly handsome smile. “You’re welcome.” Then it’s gone. “And I’m sorry, too.”

“Wha—?” is all you manage to get out before you’re flung into another pair of arms. Xavier is running away; you can hear him. You can see him, in the corner of your eye: a pale shadow, giving chase after Sylus. Slipping into the labyrinth of spaceship-like corridors.

“Cutie?” Rafayel’s calling, and it must be his arms around you, squeezing you.

You want to answer— you’re going to answer— but then he drops to his knees, the fall making your head spin. You feel sick. “Cutie?” he tries again, and oh, him shaking you really isn’t helping.

“Raf, please— please stop.”

He doesn’t. “Stay with me, okay?” he urges, the red lights on your gear reflecting in his desperate eyes. He looks up at an encroaching figure. “Zayne! Do something!”

The doctor strides towards you, casting a nonchalant gaze over your body. When he speaks, it’s a bleak prognosis: “Last life?”

“Yep! Sylus already got me once. And before that, Raf—”

“Shhhh shh shh,” the man cradling you hushes, “don’t speak, cutie. Save your strength.”

“Shot me. He was pretending to be a spy,” you finish.

“I wasn’t!”

You huff. “Really? So I was just imagining you posing every time you rounded a corner? The forward rolls, all the spinning around and stuff— that was all in my head?”

“Guess so,” he shrugs. “It’s not my fault you fantasise about me being some kinda action hero, you freak.”

Your face is dark. “Zayne?”

An electronic gunshot rings out, and the lights on Rafayel’s vest flash red. He gapes down at himself, then glowers at Zayne as they return to their normal, lives-to-spare blue. The doctor shrugs guiltlessly, a slight tug at the corner of his lips.

Footsteps approach and your allies react: Rafayel cradling you tighter (definitely not using you as a human shield) and Zayne levelling his gun at a pitch-black corridor. The weapon drops as Xavier stalks out of it, his pace brisk and his presence commanding. “Status?” he asks, checking his Hunter’s Watch pointlessly. It’s a force of habit. You do it, too.

“We’re one hunter down,” says Zayne, his tone equally pragmatic. “Sylus?”

“Could be anywhere.” Xavier toes a crow feather with what you can only describe as disgust.

Okay… Rafayel’s grip is getting a little much, now. You feebly tap at his hand, but he’s too busy glaring up at your team leader to notice. “How could you?” he mutters under his breath, deliberately loud.

Xavier spares him a glance. Then you, finally. “I did what I had to.”

“What you had to?” Rafayel’s voice is dangerous. “What you had to?”

Just as you’re thinking about how touching his loyalty is, he drops you the rest of the way to the floor. You lie there, stunned, staring up at the ceiling. The artist stands, then— yep! Steps over you completely. “You’ve gone too far this time, Xavier! You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies.”

He’s thrashing about in an uncaring ocean. Xavier’s eyes are calm. “Don’t I?”

You didn’t know challenges could be issued so softly. Rafayel stares in disbelief, then looks to Zayne for back-up: are you seeing this?

The doctor is quiet as he diagnoses the situation, trying to find the path of least resistance. There has to be a middle ground. A way to appease fire without burning his hands.

His hazel eyes fall on you, and you get the feeling you’re the answer. He comes to stand over you. Crouches down beside you, head low in respect as he takes your hand and squeezes it gently, like he’s savouring a warmth that’s ebbing away.

“Zayne…?” you breathe. You don’t quite know what’s happening.

He releases a breath too, for your voice is a memory and he’ll treasure it, always. His spare hand lifts to cup your cheek, and he meets your eyes with unequivocal devotion. It isn’t innocent. It’s dark.

“We will avenge you,” he vows.

…

It’s nice, being dead.

You can meander aimlessly. You can hum to yourself recklessly.

You don’t have to poke your head around each corner, giving signals that the coast is clear or unclear because Xavier decided— worryingly early in the game— that it was you who should always go first. Step into the open, maybe even a firing line. Sylus will hesitate, he’d insisted, his hands on your shoulders and his eyes boring into yours intensely. You’re his weakness. Exploit it.

You’d nodded, wide-eyed, unsure of what else to do with someone gripping you like that.

What would Xavier say now, you wonder, if he saw you— Sylus’s infamous weakness— watching the man with a tender smile? His scarlet gaze is distracted. He hasn’t noticed you yet. Well, he has, but he’s pretending he hasn’t. He’s busy: crouched behind a wall, peering over it cautiously.

You saunter over. “What’s the plan here, Mr Lone Wolf?”

“Quiet.”

“Mr One Man Army. Mr ‘I don’t need a team, sweetie, I could beat you all with my hands tied.���”

Sylus gifts you a sideways smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Come on, Sy—” you perch back on the wall he’s using for cover— “death can’t keep us apart. Y’know what that makes me?”  

“Insufferable.”

“Nope. A ghost,” you correct, and the man smiles more widely. It’s still nowhere near enough attention, so you wiggle your arms at him, adding an “ooooooooh!” for good measure.

“You don’t scare me, sweetie.”

Oh really? You study your nails. “You ever think about how if you’d died before you met me, Luke and Kieran would’ve had full creative control of your funeral?”

Sylus’s smile fades the more that image sinks in. “Fine,” he shrugs, “you scare me a little. Now—” he stands to his full height, giving your head a pat— “off to heaven with you, ghost.”

You’re interfering with his mission, you know.

He strides away purposefully, and you can tell he’s enjoying this. The unfair odds. The chance to show off. At last, some enrichment for the wanted criminal who holds your bags while you’re shopping. (Not that he doesn’t enjoy that, too.)

He’s checking over his gun with a customary glance, and the way he moves is addictive; what he’s wearing doesn’t help. A black compression shirt stresses each muscle of his arms and back— the fabric fighting for its life. If you could buy it a drink for its service, you would. You’d buy it ten.

“Yeah…” you exhale, head sideways, gaze low. “I don’t think heaven’s quite where I’m headed.”

Sylus stops.

He turns with a follow-up question, but it never needs to be asked. You’re still shamelessly staring— explaining yourself with faraway eyes and a bottom lip that’s trapped by your teeth. It’s deliberate, of course. Just like you know that shirt was deliberate.

The man’s head tilts in warning. “Careful, sweetie.”

Were his tone a blade he could pin to your throat, he’d know just the right pressure to make your heart stutter. Not too much. Not too little. But he needs to push harder, these days; you’re awfully comfortable at the edge of that knife, and there’s sin in the way you watch him, like you don’t care if you’ll bleed for it.

It pulls him back to you, tantalisingly slowly. A finger lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to his eyes. “I said, careful,” he repeats, making every word drag.

That gaze sinks low again. An act of defiance; it doesn’t quite reach his body. It stops at his lips.

He leans in closer.

There’s a sound somewhere down the corridor, and a gunshot rings out. Sylus’s arms are around you— a swirl of his Evol stealing you both from reality. You rejoin the world a loud heartbeat later, in a different room, far away from the last. Crow feathers tumble. The scarlet mist dissipates.

Sylus’s vest is flashing red, and he looks at you, betrayed, as it turns back to cobalt.

That’s two lives down, one to go; you’d stolen the first when he’d taken you hostage. “All’s fair in love and war, Sylus,” you smile, untangling yourself from his grasp. “You understand, don’t you?”

You go to leave, but his hand is on your wrist. He pulls you back, and it would be much more threatening if he wasn’t chuckling so fondly. “My team next time?” he asks, kissing the very top of your head.

You sidle away, his hand forced to surrender you. “Maybe,” you grin at him over your shoulder. “I’m in pretty high demand.”

…

“Raf, Raf, Raf!” you chirp, skipping over to the lilac-haired artist.

“Cutie, cutie, cutie!” he chirps back. “Afterlife’s fun, huh?”

“Even more fun now you’re here.” He’s sat on a fallen pillar, arms by his side, legs stretched out. His face is lit by the glow of his vest: a faint but vivid red. Like an ember. “My condolences, fishie.”

He snorts. “Thanks.”

“Gonna tell me what happened?”

Rafayel rolls his head back— a listless sort of stretch. “Xavier shot me. Said I’m a ‘liability’,” he shrugs.  “That I ‘compromised the integrity of the mission.’”

That was a lot of air quotes. “Pretending to be a spy again?” you hazard.

“Nah.”

Ooh! “A gunslinger!”

He’s still staring at the ceiling, but he sighs dreamily, eyes closing. “You know me so well.”

You take a seat next to him, trying not to giggle at the thought of him strutting about in front of Xavier, tipping an invisible hat while the Hunter slowly raised his gun. Gods, how brutal; you hope it was quick. A tiny laugh breaches your lips, and Rafayel opens an eye in suspicion.

You smile innocently. The eye closes again, satisfied. “You’d make a hot cowboy. Or spy.”

“I know,” he breathes out. That was never up for debate. “Which is hotter, though?”

Hmm… You scooch away from him, making a viewfinder with your fingers so you can squint at him through it. His eyes flicker open and he catches on, flashing a smile as he shoots you with a finger gun. “Spy,” you conclude.

“Noted.” His chuckle is warm and wistful.

“So… got any good intel for me, super spy?”

He hums like he has to think about it. “Xavier’s got some big plan to beat Sylus. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, on account of the whole ‘liability’ thing? But yeah, it’s big.”

“How big can it be? It’s laser tag.”

“I think I can shed some light on that matter.”  

It’s a third voice, and the intrusion makes you jump. Rafayel, too, but he’d never admit it. You both glance outwards, to where Zayne is wandering over to you. His walk is relaxed. His gear is red.  

“That line would’ve been way cooler from Xavier,” Rafayel whispers.

“So cool!” you whisper back. Zayne can clearly hear every word, so you’re quick to deflect with a: “Hey, Zayne! What happened to you?”

You know what happened— there’s an obvious, kinda horrifying pattern emerging— but you still need to hear it. Zayne shifts on his feet, looking down at the ground as he finds the right words. “I… was a liability,” he says at last.

“Oh, nice!” Rafayel’s hand shoots out. “Join the club!”

Zayne stares at it blankly, but gives in eventually. His hand meets the artist’s in the least inspiring high-five you’ve ever seen.

“How were you a liability?” you chase up, because it’s harder to picture your stoic doctor prancing around like a secret agent.

Zayne rests his gun back on his shoulder. “I was trying to be a voice of reason.”

There’s a low, sympathetic whistle from Rafayel. “That’ll do it! There’s no reasoning with those levels of crazy.” He looks at you. Interrupts before you can leap to your partner’s defence: “Like, how invested are you in Sylus?”

What the hell’s that supposed to mean? “… A lot?”

Rafayel winces, drawing air through gritted teeth. “Yikes.”

He’s messing with you. He’s messing with you, right? You look up at Zayne— calm, cool, collected Zayne— your anchor in all this insanity. He meets your gaze, and you wait for that smile of reassurance: the one he always manages, even when you’re bleeding out before him, courtesy of a Wanderer you underestimated. Everything will be fine.

He shakes his head discreetly.  

Everything won’t be fine? Oh.

…

“Sylus!”

You sprint down a corridor, your teammates hot at your heels and your breath ragged from running. This place really is a maze, and it’s not like Sylus wants to be found. No— your red-eyed damsel-in-imminent-distress is still marching around out there, oblivious. Avoiding you? Probably.

That’s when you see it. You skid to a stop, Rafayel almost crashing into you.

Perched on a nearby ledge, Mephisto is watching you, head cocked. His mechanical eyes narrow, and there’s no usual caw of greeting. You’re witnessing a professional at work. A crow on a mission, just like his master. You wander over, looking up at him. Then you snatch him down from his pedestal.  

“Listen to me, Mephie,” you conspire as he squawks and wriggles. “Get Sylus, okay? It’s urgent. We have to speak to him.”

You set the bird free, launching him up into the air so he can take forth your message, but he nosedives to the ground, landing in a sorry-looking heap, instead. The little pile of feathers moves. Seems to find its feet, then… keels over sideways with a final squawk. Huh.

“You killed it,” Rafayel observes from behind you.

“I did not!” You crouch down, giving the frozen crow a poke. “C’mon, stop being dramatic! Get up.”

No reaction. Rafayel sings eerily: “Deaaad…”

You scoop Mephisto into your hands and he melts into them. A wing hangs down, and his head hangs backwards, too. You give him a shake. Nothing happens. Standing up, you turn, “Zay—?”

“I’m not a mechanic.” The doctor’s arms are folded.

But you’re looking at him, hope in your eyes and a faint— absolutely not fake— wobble to your lips, so he takes the crow reluctantly. He lifts the fallen wing. Examines the sharp black feathers and plates of metal. “Is there an off switch you might have pressed?” he ponders aloud. “Or…?”

“It’s at the back of his neck,” a voice that isn’t yours answers.

You’re suddenly clutching feathers; Zayne has shoved Mephisto back into your hands. “I don’t—” you try to resist— “no, don’t give him to—!” You try to hand him back, but Zayne is stepping away.

There’s a presence, looming. “Hey, Sy!” You spin around with a smile.

The man you’ve been searching for stares at you, an eyebrow raised. “Killed Mephisto, did you?”

“Uhhhh, no? It was Rafayel.”

A squeak from behind you: “What!?”

Mercifully, Mephisto springs to life— fluttering away so he can perch on Sylus’s shoulder. He coos, leaning in to nuzzle the finger that lifts to stroke at his beak. Then he caws at you, over and over, like a manic sort of laughter. That stupid bird’s been spending too much time with the twins.

Sylus looks between the three of you, his eyes falling on each red vest in turn. He smiles languidly. “Been playing spy again, little artist?”

“Nope.”

“Cowboy,” the older man guesses again.

Rafayel is silent, his arms crossing defensively. Sylus chuckles, and just as you’re about to scold him, he holsters his weapon with… flair? And tips an invisible hat in the artist’s direction. Rafayel smiles. “How might I be of service?” Sylus asks you, still roleplaying.

Adorable. Focus! “We came to warn you, Sy. Xavier’s—”

“Totally lost it,” Rafayel cuts in. You glare at him and his eyes protest: What!? It’s true!

“We should stick together,” Zayne says. “At least until we can figure out what he’s—”

The lights around you go dead.

No more spotlights, no more stripes of neon; you’re submerged into darkness. The only remaining glow is your vests— three red, one blue— all ominously still. Afraid to move. As your eyes adjust, you can just about make out the others’ faces. Rafayel and Sylus are glancing around, wary, but Zayne’s uneasiness is different.

“Phase one,” he mutters gravely.

You don’t like that. “What’s phase two?”

Please know. Please know. He looks at you. Gives another one of those little head shakes.

At the far end of the corridor, a spotlight flickers to life. You all watch, caught in a spell of suspense as it illuminates nothing— an empty space where you half expect some spectre to be. It goes dark a second later. Then the next spotlight lights up, closer. It goes out. The next one lights. Goes out. Lights.

Light. Dark. Light. Dark.

“What the fuck?” Rafayel murmurs, standing closer than before. His hand finds yours, and you’re actually grateful. You hold it, tight.

“Stay behind us,” Zayne directs at Sylus.

A much, much closer spotlight turns on.

Xavier stands beneath it, deathly still. Every bit the spectre you’d imagined: you can’t quite tell if he’s of heaven or hell. He might have walked out of either. He might drag you to either. It’s that look again: the one he wore before he killed you. Inevitability. It lives in his gaze. There’s no running from it. No pleading with or changing it.

“Enough,” Sylus growls, pushing past you, raising his gun. He pulls the trigger, and the sound of the shot rings out. Nothing comes of it, though. The weapon doesn’t flash. Xavier’s vest doesn’t flash.

The Hunter tilts his head— another challenge, soft as sleep.

Sylus presses the trigger a second time, then a third, a fourth, a fifth. Though his weapon looks like a gun— pierces the silence like a gun— it isn’t one, is it? It’s a vessel. For infrared light.

Now you think of it, this game was rigged from the start. It must dawn on Sylus, because he stops. He tears the gun from its cord and lets it skitter across the floor, no more useless there than it was in his hands. Energy crackles around his fingers, thick like sticky, red blood.

“Sylus,” Zayne warns, but there are tentative snowflakes at his fingertips, too.

Xavier steps closer, mirroring Sylus— throwing his gun aside with a crash. A delicate twist of his hands and a blade is unsheathed from the darkness. Pure light, holy and sharp. He spins the sword with a practiced elegance and it’s admittedly mesmerising. You can’t not watch.

Rafayel wriggles his fingers free of yours, then steps in front of you. You’d never tell him, but his hand had started to burn.

You hadn’t missed this— this tension. So full of tempered things, meant to hurt.

White light floods everything, everywhere, and you have to shield your face with your hands. The others are doing the same, groaning, hissing curses; even Xavier is wincing as he stares at the ceiling.

This isn’t his doing. Isn’t his light.

…

“Who needs that place?” Rafayel grumbles, plucking a fry up from Xavier’s plate and poking it past his lips so he can chew on it with his thoughts. “I mean, I’ve got a private island!”

“And I’ve got guns,” Sylus smiles.

You look up. “Laser tag guns?”

He blinks at you. Nods agreeably: “Sure, sweetie.”

“I’m sure we can buy some.” Zayne is stirring a chocolate milkshake, and he stoops to take a sip.

The four of you are huddled around a table outside a fast-food place, conveniently next door to the laser tag place you’ve just been kicked out of. There’s a board in there, now graced with colourful mugshots of you all, and not everyone looks miserable in them. Sylus is smirking in his, an old hand at notoriety. Rafayel is winking, making finger hearts.

Xavier is still inside, arguing your case with the manager— appealing the whole ‘lifetime bans’ thing— and his food is getting cold. You slap away Rafayel’s hand as it goes in for another fry.

“You’ve got your own, Raf!”

“So?” His hand is quicker this time, dodging yours and whisking three fries away from their friends before you can stop him. “They taste better stolen. Everyone knows that.”

Sylus hums in accordance as he steals a fry for himself. Vultures.

They all nibble away at their food— sometimes Xavier’s food— and you know you’re all thinking about the same thing. That corridor, those flickering spotlights, and the Hunter commanding them. You’ve not really talked about it, yet.

“Y’know,” you muse, “I’ve never seen Xavier like that before. Don’t you think it was kinda…?”

Rafayel bonks your head with a rolled-up menu. “Stop.”

Zayne snatches it from him gently. Flattens it out again and sets it neatly down on the table. “He is right though,” he sighs. “Stop.”

You giggle. “Hear me out, though—”

“Ah! There you are!”

Two figures approach your table, and the voice is very familiar. Twenty minutes ago, it was yelling at you.

It’s the manager of the laser tag place, and he stands before you, hands on his hips and a smile on his wizened face. “I’m glad I found you,” he continues, “your friend and I have just been talking. He explained everything. Who’d have thought, huh? An invisible Wanderer, messing with the lights like that! Destroying my equipment! Anyway, it was so kind of you to get rid of it.”

He pats Xavier’s shoulder, praises: “What a nice young man!”

“It was our pleasure, sir.” Xavier tips his head in respect as Sylus sniggers.

The manager’s too enamoured to notice. “Anyway,” he turns to the rest of you, “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. It goes without saying that you are welcome back, anytime! My treat, of course!”

You all glance between each-other as Xavier thanks the man for his kindness, then waves him goodbye with a genuine warmth. The manager trundles away, leaving your little banquet in peace.

Xavier smiles so fondly, his gaze an azure sky. There’s not a cloud in it, just a bright, radiant sun.

Your budding support group is speechless.

“So,” Xavier beams at you all, “who wants to go again?”

[angelnoe9]

Love Beyond Deepspace

Chapter 1 : Crossing the line

It was a normal evening—nothing out of the ordinary. After another exhausting day at work, you finally returned home, tossing your bag onto the couch before collapsing onto your bed. As usual, your fingers instinctively reached for your phone, the familiar comfort of routine guiding you. You tapped on your favorite game, Love and Deepspace, the screen illuminating your dimly lit room.

As the game finished loading, there he was—Xavier. Sitting in a cozy café on the home screen, his silver hair slightly tousled as he rested his head on a small wooden table, dozing off. Dressed in a casual white long-sleeved shirt and black pants, he looked so at ease, a stark contrast to his usual confident and composed self. The soft glow of the café's warm lights bathed his sharp yet peaceful features, highlighting the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. You smiled to yourself. He looked so relaxed, so different from the hunter you knew. Without thinking, you tapped the screen, tracing a finger over his sleeping form. If only you could see him in real life…

Grabbing your bag, you decided to head out for a late-night snack. The streets were quiet, and the air carried a faint chill, but your attention remained fixed on your screen as you walked. You absentmindedly navigated the familiar route, eyes flicking between the game and the empty road ahead.

Not a single car in sight.

Confident that it was safe, you stepped onto the crosswalk, still watching Xavier’s sleeping form on your screen. But just as you took another step forward, the blaring sound of a car horn shattered the silence.

Your breath hitched, the world narrowing to the blinding headlights rushing toward you.

Head snapping up, your heart nearly stopped at the sight of blinding headlights rushing toward you. The car came out of nowhere, too fast, too close. Your fingers tightened around your phone, but your body refused to move. Panic surged through you as you braced for impact, instinctively squeezing your eyes shut.

Any second now.

But the crash never came.

A sharp breeze sliced through the panic, and instead of unforgiving asphalt, your feet met the soft crunch of leaves and damp soil. Slowly, hesitantly, you cracked your eyes open.

You were no longer on the street.

Towering trees surrounded you, their dark silhouettes looming under a vast, moonlit sky. The distant chirping of insects and rustling leaves replaced the hum of city life. Cold air nipped at your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blinked, still in shock from the crash, only to find yourself standing in an unfamiliar forest. The cold air brushed against your face, and an unsettling mix of emotions surged through you. Before you could make sense of it, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

"You’re not supposed to be here."

You turned to see Xavier, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. They locked onto yours, unblinking, as if struggling to process what they were seeing. The intensity in his gaze was palpable—a mixture of shock and confusion that seemed to freeze the moment in time.

"I was just playing the game, and the car—" you stammered. "How—"

"You’re not playing the game anymore," Xavier interrupted. "This is real, and you don’t belong here."

Confusion swirled inside you, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t a glitch. Xavier— the real Xavier—was standing right in front of you.

"Stay close," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "It’s dangerous out here."

You hesitated, uncertainty churning in your mind. The world felt alien, but Xavier’s presence gave you an odd sense of security. Taking a deep breath, you decided to follow his lead, hoping that whatever was happening would start to make sense soon.

Xavier's hand gently wrapped around your arm, pulling you closer to him, his grip strong but reassuring. There was something almost... intimate about the way his fingers curled around your wrist, as if he was silently telling you that, no matter what was happening, you were not alone. His touch sent a flutter through your chest, a warmth that spread from where he held you all the way to the tips of your fingers.

"Stay close," he repeated, his voice a low murmur, and you couldn’t help but obey, feeling both his urgency and his quiet comfort.

You had no idea what was happening, no idea why you were here—whether this was some dream or twisted reality—but the way Xavier’s presence seemed to anchor you to this strange world made everything feel a little less terrifying.

As you followed him through the dense forest, a sudden rustling in the trees caught your attention, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw the gleam of something red watching you from the dark. But unsure of what it was, you decided to let it slip, convincing yourself it was just a trick of the shadows.

Then, before you could process what was happening, a familiar warmth washed over you, and everything around you seemed to blur for a moment. It wasn’t until the sounds of the forest faded that you realized you were no longer surrounded by towering trees.

Instead, you stood before a tall, modern building, its sleek glass windows reflecting the dim moonlight. The soft glow of the streetlights below illuminated the entrance to the building. You looked up at the towering structure, feeling a sense of familiarity as Xavier stepped forward, his hand never leaving your arm.

"Come on," Xavier said, his voice steady, gently pulling you along as he led you toward the building’s elevator. As you stepped inside, he pressed the button for the sixth floor. The elevator’s hum filled the quiet space as it slowly ascended, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a calming ambiance.

When the elevator dinged at the sixth floor, Xavier led you down the hallway, stopping in front of his apartment door. He pulled out a key from his pocket, unlocking the door to his apartment.

Stepping inside, you were met with the soft glow of candlelight flickering on the low table. The standing lamp beside the couch cast long, warm shadows across the room, and the faint hum of a record player filled the space with quiet music. The city lights twinkled beyond the large window, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth inside.

"You must be hungry," Xavier said, already making his way toward the kitchen.

Before you could answer, he was rummaging through the cabinets, the sound of shifting boxes and clattering utensils filling the air. Then—

CLANG.

“…You okay over there?” you asked, peeking over the counter.

Xavier cleared his throat and held up a slightly dented cup of instant noodles like it was some rare treasure. "This is all I have right now."

You stepped closer, glancing at the cup in his hands. The packaging read NOODLE SOUP in bold white letters on a yellow background, with a small, nostalgic image of a steaming bowl.

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s perfect.”

Xavier gave a small nod of approval and filled the electric kettle and switched it on, waiting in comfortable silence as the water heated. The quiet bubbling sound mixed with the low music in the background. Once it was ready, he poured the steaming water into the cup with practiced ease, placing the lid back on to let it steep.

A few minutes later, he slid the cup in front of you on the wooden table beside the flickering candles, along with a pair of chopsticks.

You glanced up at him. "You know, I was expecting something more dramatic."

Xavier smirked, sitting across from you. "What, you thought I'd set something on fire?"

"…Maybe."

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "I can handle instant noodles, at least."

You took a careful sip of the broth, the warmth settling in your chest. It was simple but comforting—much like the atmosphere around you.

Xavier’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, the soft light casting a golden hue over his sharp features. His expression had shifted—less teasing, more thoughtful.

"Are you… alright?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You swallowed, unsure if it was from the warmth of the noodles or the sudden intensity in his gaze.

"I—yeah, I think so," you managed, voice a little unsteady. "I’m just… still trying to figure out what happened."

Xavier nodded, his eyes flickering toward the window for a moment before settling back on you. "I don’t think either of us understands what’s going on," he admitted. "But you’re safe now. That’s what matters."

A silence stretched between you, thick but not uncomfortable. The record player crackled softly in the background, the candlelight flickering between you. Then—

“…I can probably cook something better next time,” Xavier muttered, almost to himself.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

He shot you a playful glare, but the faint pink dusting his ears betrayed him.

You bit back a smile. Some things never change.

The warmth from the noodles still lingered in your chest, but the events of the evening began to take their toll. Xavier had been quiet as he stood up from the table, stretching his arms over his head.

"I’ll take a quick shower and change," he said, his voice returning to its usual calm, steady tone. "It’s getting late."

You nodded absentmindedly, your mind still racing from the surreal turn your night had taken. You watched him disappear down the hallway toward the bathroom, the soft sound of water running soon filling the quiet space.

Alone again, you sat on the couch, your eyes drifting to the window where the city lights shimmered in the distance. The stillness of the apartment seemed to settle over you like a blanket, but your thoughts refused to quiet down.

What was happening? How did you even end up here?

You wondered, in a haze of exhaustion, whether you'd be stuck here forever. The thought of never going back to your life on Earth—the life you knew, your job, your friends—made your chest tighten. The car, the crash... Was that it for you? Were you dead? Was this some kind of afterlife, or were you trapped in another world entirely?

And Xavier... He knew you. But how? Wasn't he just a game character? No—this felt far too real for it to be just a game. You could feel his presence, his warmth. This was beyond anything you'd imagined. Yet, you couldn't escape the crushing weight of questions, unanswered and lingering in the air around you.

But you were so, so tired.

You picked up your phone, hoping for some connection to the outside world. No signal. The game wouldn’t open without an internet connection. Not that it would help anyway—nothing in it could explain why this was happening.

As the weight of the day’s events finally settled on your shoulders, your body betrayed you. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, and the hum of the apartment seemed to lull you into a daze.

Just as you were about to lose the fight against sleep, Xavier returned, stepping out of the bathroom. His hair was damp, slightly messy, and his usual white hoodie and jeans—just like the ones from the home screen of the game—seemed to fit him even better in person. The faint glow of the candles danced across his features, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw, the softness in his eyes, and the unmistakable calm confidence that radiated from him.

He gave you a glance, his eyes assessing. "You want to wash up or change?" he asked gently, as if offering a simple solution to the exhaustion written across your face. "I can lend you something to sleep in."

You shook your head, too tired to even entertain the thought. "No… I think I’ll just sleep now."

Xavier’s expression softened, and there was a warmth in his gaze that made your heart flutter despite the overwhelming fatigue. "You’re welcome to take my bed," he offered quietly, his voice barely a whisper against the soft hum of the apartment. "I’ll sleep on the couch."

You hesitated, guilt settling in your stomach at the thought of him giving up his bed for you. "You don't have to," you mumbled, unsure if you even had the energy to protest. "I... I think we can just sleep together."

There was a brief moment of silence between you, thick with unspoken thoughts, before Xavier nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Alright. Just let me know if you need anything."

You followed him toward the bedroom, your feet dragging as you entered his bedroom. The bedroom is bathed in a warm, intimate glow from the bedside lamp, casting soft shadows around the room. The outside night is visible through the window, dark and quiet, but inside, the atmosphere feels safe and calm. The primary light source, the lamp with its spherical white shade, creates a warm glow that softly illuminates the immediate area around the bed. It adds a comforting warmth to the room, which feels even more inviting after the chaos of the day.

The bed, with light-colored bedding, is the focal point of the room. A dark throw blanket is casually draped across the foot of the bed, adding a touch of comfort. The floating shelves on the wall hold books and small decorative items, while framed artwork adds a touch of personality to the space. A chair rests near the window, and a soft rug lies on the floor, bringing texture and warmth to the space.

He climbed into the bed first, settling against the pillows with a quiet sigh, making space for you. You followed suit, slipping under the blankets and lying on your side. The proximity of his body to yours made your heart race unexpectedly. His presence was like a warm weight beside you, his steady breathing soothing the chaos in your mind.

But despite the exhaustion pulling at you, you couldn't help but be acutely aware of him beside you. The way his body felt against the bed, the way his breath brushed against the cool night air—it was all so real, so present.

As you tried to settle into the bed, your heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears. Xavier’s form lay just inches from you, the faint scent of him—something clean, warm, and comforting—lingering in the air. You closed your eyes, the world around you fading, your body slowly succumbing to the pull of sleep.

But Xavier… Xavier was awake.

He lay still, gazing at you quietly, his eyes watching you as if trying to process the incredible reality of you being here with him, beside him. He couldn’t quite believe it—how could he? After all this time, after everything, you were here, lying next to him.

His gaze lingered, studying every detail of your face in the dim light, as if trying to memorize it, as if waiting for some kind of sign that this wasn’t a dream. He exhaled quietly, his chest rising and falling with each breath, but there was no denying the stillness in the air. He didn’t want to disturb you, but the truth was, he couldn’t tear himself away. Not yet.

Eventually, the quiet of the night, the warmth of the bed, and the steady rhythm of your breathing lulled him to sleep. The last thing he remembered before closing his eyes was the steady beat of your heart, a comforting sound, grounding him in the moment.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Xavier let himself rest—by your side, a place he never thought he'd be.

The sunlight filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your room. You blink, slowly coming to consciousness, the faint hum of the world outside reaching your ears. Something feels off, though.

The scent of your room, the familiar hum of your fan in the corner, and the soft crinkle of your sheets—it all feels so real. You sit up quickly, your heart racing as you glance around.

This… this is your bed. Your room.

For a moment, confusion clouds your thoughts, and you shake your head, as if trying to clear away the fog. Was it a dream? It couldn’t have been. It felt too real, too vivid.

You reach for your phone, almost without thinking, your fingers trembling as you unlock it. The screen comes to life with the familiar wallpaper, and your heart skips a beat when you see the icon for Love and Deepspace. The game.

You hesitantly tap on it, your mind still reeling from the impossible shift.

And there he is. Xavier. His face, so clear on the screen, staring back at you with that usual calm expression. But his eyes—they look different, somehow. More intense. More… concerned?

You breathe in sharply, your thoughts racing. Was this real? Was this happening? Or was it some twisted dream?

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your pulse. If this is real, if you really are back in your world, you can’t help but feel a pang of worry for Xavier. He must have noticed your disappearance. What was he feeling right now?

Without thinking, you speak to the screen, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m back, Xavier. I don’t know how… but I’m back.”

You wait for a response, your eyes locked on his face, but nothing happens. No change. No movement.

Is he hearing you? Is this just a dream? The confusion swirls in your mind, but all you know is that something has changed. You’re no longer in the game, and the world you left behind feels so distant, like a dream you can’t quite remember.

You glance around your room once more, the quiet of the morning pressing in on you. The sunlight is now fully streaming into your room, the day unfolding, and yet all you can think about is him. Is he panicking? Is he okay?

The question hangs in the air, unanswered.

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[chanelrolls]

Love and Deepspace Men pretending to be gay to get closer to you.

pairings: sylus x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, xavier x reader, caleb x reader

A/N: This is a headcanon of how the LIs would pretend to be gay so that you would feel safe and comfortable around their presence. Requests are open. I'll welcome them wholeheartedly.

SYLUS

Sylus doesn’t just pretend to be gay—he turns it into a performance. He commits so flawlessly that no one even questions him. He doesn’t stutter, hesitate, or act out of character. If anything, his arrogance makes people believe him even more.

He carefully crafts his lies to be believable. He drops subtle hints in conversation, never making it obvious, just enough that people draw their own conclusions.

If you ever ask why he never seems interested in women, he just smirks, “Sweetheart, I like my partners just as ruthless as I am. Do you think you could handle that?”

He treats it like a game. He enjoys seeing how long he can keep the charade up before you're able to catch on. He especially loves watching your reactions when you start to get too comfortable with the idea.

He starts making offhanded comments about men, but he never actually compliments them. “At least he knows how to wear a suit properly. I respect that.” It’s just vague enough to keep the illusion.

Despite his act, he still flirts with you constantly—just in ways that sound platonically playful. “If only I was into women, hmm? What a tragedy.”

If you ever try to set him up with another guy, he dodges it smoothly. “Ah, but I have high standards, darling. He wouldn’t last five minutes with me.”

The second another man actually starts showing interest in you, his entire demeanor shifts. He gets subtly possessive, but masks it with amusement. “Him? Really? You could do better."

He lets you get too comfortable before dropping the act. Maybe one day, when you casually lean against him, laughing about how he’s the “perfect gay best friend.” He hums in amusement before leaning in close, voice dropping to a murmur. “Best friend? Hilarious.”

SCENARIO

You and Sylus are sitting at a high-end café, sipping on overpriced espresso. You suddenly begin teasing him about his supposed preferences, and he plays along effortlessly. You ask, “So, if you had to choose a man to date, who would it be?”

Sylus swirls his drink, amused. “Ah, a difficult question. I do appreciate a man with taste. A well-fitted suit. Confidence. Maybe someone who plays chess.”

You grin, “So, a rich, cunning type? That explains a lot.”

He smirks. “If I weren’t already spoken for, perhaps I’d entertain the thought.”

You shoot out a chortle, mirroring his action of twirling his drink. “See? Really, we always have the same likes and tastes, you're the perfect gay best friend."

He imperceptibly huffs, setting his cup down. Then, leaning closer, his voice drops to something softer, almost dangerous. “Who said I was your friend?”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

Sylus only smirks, sipping his coffee like he didn’t just drop a bombshell.

ZAYNE

Zayne’s approach is subtle but convincing. He never outright says he’s gay—he just lets people assume.

If someone asks him about his ideal type, he responds in the most vague, deadpan way possible. "Men."

He doesn’t act any differently than usual. That’s what makes it believable. His usual professionalism, reserved nature, and lack of visible romantic interest in others make it easy for rumors to spread.

When you jokingly asked him about it one day, he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he just tilts his head slightly and says, “Does it matter?”

He finds mild amusement in you being too comfortable around him, thinking he’s completely safe. (he's not.)

He doesn’t really do the whole “pretend to check out men” thing—he thinks it’s unnecessary. Instead, he subtly steers conversations in ways that reinforce the misunderstanding.

If you ever try to ask him about what he seeks in a man, he dodges the question with vague, clinical responses. “Compatibility is determined by more than just surface-level attraction.”

Eventually, you get too comfortable that you starts using him as a fake boyfriend to ward off creeps. He plays along, but secretly enjoys claiming you as his even if it was meant to be a ploy.

When you finally gets suspicious, he doesn’t admit it immediately. Instead, he just looks at you, waiting for you to piece it together.

Once you do realize the truth, he simply nods and says, “So you’ve figured it out.” No apology, no embarrassment—just quiet amusement at how long it took you.

SCENARIO

You're casually sitting with Zayne at a park bench, scrolling through dating profiles. You then sigh dramatically. “You’re so lucky, you know? No dating stress. No dealing with annoying guys. Just living your best life.”

Zayne glances at you. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! I mean, you don’t have to deal with this whole ‘finding the perfect guy’ nonsense. You already know what you want, right?”

Zayne hums in thought before responding simply, “I do.”

You let out a groan. “Ugh, I wish I had it that easy.”

A pause. Zayne looks at you with something unreadable in his expression. Then, after a beat, he says, “Perhaps you do.”

You frown. “…What does that mean?”

He doesn’t answer. Just smirks ever so slightly before returning to his book.

RAFAYEL

Rafayel fully leans into the performance with zero shame. He has fun with it, exaggerating everything for his own entertainment.

The moment he realizes that acting gay makes you way more comfortable around him, he makes it his new favorite game.

He starts fake-fawning over men, but in a way that’s so extra it almost sounds satirical. “MC, tell me, have you ever seen a man with cheekbones that sharp?! What a gift from the heavens. I may cry.”

He deliberately gets touchy with you, knowing you won’t suspect anything. Resting his chin on your shoulder, hugging you from behind, playing with your hands—it’s all fair game now.

If anyone asks about his type, he sighs dramatically and says something ridiculous like, “My heart belongs to the sea and to men with tragic backstories.”

The second another guy flirts with you, his energy shifts. He crosses his arms, watching with dead eyes. Then, suddenly, he’s clinging onto you like a lifeline. “Oh, darling, rescue me! This is so overwhelming.” (Really, he just wants the guy to leave.)

Whenever you ask him about his “exes,” he completely makes things up. “Ah, yes. Leonardo. He was a poet, you know. Tragic love. Very dramatic.” (He does this purely to mess with you)

He treats it all like a joke until one day, you offhandedly say something like, “You’re my safest friend.” And suddenly, it isn’t as funny anymore.

But he’s awful at keeping up the act. One slip-up and he’s doomed. When you casually rest your hand on his chest one day, his entire body tenses. Or maybe when you flirt back and then he suddenly forgets how to breathe.

Eventually, he just stops pretending. But by the time you realize it, he’s already pinning you against the couch, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oops. Looks like I got a little too close, huh?”

SCENARIO

You and Rafayel are sitting on a pier, legs dangling over the edge. The sun is setting, and the waves crash gently below. You initiate the comversation, “I wish I had a romance as dramatic as yours.”

Rafayel sighs, placing a hand over his heart. “Ah, love. So fleeting. So cruel.”

“You sound like you belong in a soap opera.”

He just smirks, bumping his shoulder against yours. “And yet, you adore me anyway.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I do. You’re the best fake boyfriend I could ask for.”

Rafayel’s smirk falters for just a second. Then, slowly, he leans in. His voice drops to a murmur.

“Fake?”

XAVIER

Xavier’s attempt at pretending to be gay is an absolute trainwreck. He isn’t a liar by nature, so when he does try, it’s painfully obvious. If asked about his type, he panics and blurts out, “Men. I love men.” Dead silence follows.

His reason for pretending to be gay is simple: you said you felt the safest around him, so in a moment of impulse, he blurts out, “That’s because I’m gay.”

Instant regret. His face stays neutral, but internally? Panic. He realizes too late this means he can be close to you without you suspecting a thing.

The problem? He’s naturally affectionate. Xavier isn’t touchy, but he doesn’t move away when you lean on him, holds his hand absentmindedly, or play with his fingers.

You treat him like a safe space, and it drives him insane, telling him, “I love how comfortable I feel around you.” Xavier, staring at your intertwined hands, says: “…Me too.”

His ‘gay act’ is ridiculously bad, but you bought it at first. Until the way he looks at you starts feeling off.

He gets a little too soft around you. You often catch him staring at your lips too long. His voice is too gentle when he says your name, and he remembers everything about your preferences.

The real problem starts when you experimented with his boundaries one day. “Xavier, can I cuddle with you? You’re like my emotional support pillow.”

He freezes. He should say no. He really should. Instead, he clears his throat and mutters, “…If you want.”

SCENARIO

It’s late at night, and both of you are lying on the couch, wrapped in a shared blanket. Your head rests on Xavier’s shoulder, breathing softlt against his skin. He smells too good. You utter, “I’m so glad you’re in my life.”

Xavier stares at the ceiling. He can feel the weight of you against him, the warmth of your body. It’s unbearable.

You add, “I feel the safest around you.”

His throat tightens. He shouldn’t be hearing this. Not when you think he’s—

You shift, pressing closer. “…I wish you weren’t gay.”

His heart stops. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

Xavier swallows hard, forcing himself to stay still. He lifts a hand, hesitating, before gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His voice is barely above a whisper, “…Me too.”

CALEB

Caleb doesn’t just pretend—he weaponizes the misunderstanding. He’s been in your life since forever, so if people assume you're just besties and he happens to be gay, he doesn’t correct them. In fact, he leans into it.

He’ll act as the perfect wingman, making sure every guy you dated somehow ends up hating their time with you. He sabotages without looking like he’s doing it. “Oh, you like him? Huh. I heard he cheated on his last girlfriend. But if you’re sure…” (He made that up.)

Though Caleb absolutely hates doing this, but if it’s the only way to get you close to him, he’ll do it.

He’s good at it. Too good. Because he’s always been selective about women, no one questions it when he claims to have no interest.

It’s a slow burn. He makes himself your most reliable friend, your protector, the one person you never had to worry about.

Whenever you vent about guys, he’s always there to listen, nodding with quiet understanding. But internally, he wants to put the heads of the guys you dated on a stick.

He treats you so gently, and it frustrates him that you don't even see through it.

One day, a guy gets too close to you, and Caleb steps in, voice cold. “I’d back off if I were you.”

You finally realized the truth when he stops playing along and just stares at you with an expectant gaze.

When you finally confront him, he only gives you a knowing look. “You really think I’d let just anyone this close to me?”

SCENARIO

You're venting to Caleb about another failed date. “Why can’t guys be like you?”

Caleb tenses. But he forces a smile. “Yeah. Why can’t they?”

Absentmindedly, your mouth somewhat continued to run faster than your brain. “I wish I could just date you. If only you weren’t—”

A pause.

Caleb tilts his head. “…If I weren’t what?”

You realize the weight of what you said, laughing awkwardly. “You know. If you weren’t—”

His eyes darken. “Say it.”

And that’s when you knew.

[warlocklawyer666]

Thanks for the tag @beginning-writer ^^

Tagging @liliannamira

1) What's the origin of your blog title?

My blog title is a reference to the video game ‘The Witcher 3’, specifically its DLC ‘Blood and Wine’, with the Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery being the place where my (by far) favourite character from the Witcher universe lives, now to my username: I used to play a DnD character that was a warlock and wanted to be a lawyer at the time, 666 was honestly just a fun addition cuz why the fuck not 😊

2) OTP(s) + Their shipname

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto -> Satosugu (love them sm) from JJK

Apollo and Icarus -> don’t think they have an ‘official shipname’, but I’ma call em ‘Fallen Star’ from Greek Mythology

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter + Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger + Blaise Zabini and Ron Weasley -> Drarry + Pansmione + Blairon (technically all are their own ship, but idfc they belong togethaaa) from Harry Potter

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin + Regulus Black and James Potter -> Wolfstar + Jegulus from Harry Potter Marauders Era

Aziraphale and Crowley -> Ineffable Husbands (personally prefer Aziracrow tho) from Good Omens

Elphaba Thropp, Glinda Upland, and Fiyero Tigelaar -> Gliyeraba from Wicked

Honorabel mentions for:

Tamlin, Lucien, and Elain -> Elamlien (no official ship name) from

Miranda, Tax, and Alev -> no fucking idea, but they’re characters from a DnD campaign me and a few friends are playing rn

3) Favourite colour?

Black and (Phthalo) Green 🖤💚

4) Favourite game(s)?

The Witcher 3! I luv this game so fucking much, it should still be on sale in Steam (10€ for full game + all DLCs) ⚔️❤️

Also Love and Deepspace, I adore it 🥰

And Genshin Impact ✨

5) What song is currently stuck in your head?

6) Weirdest habit/trait?

- Skin picking

- I eat only pealed grapes

- I can push my thumb so that it touches my forearm

- I panic when I eat for example onions that have skin cuz I think I feel as if I’m suffocating #arfid

7) Hobbies:

-Drawing/Painting

-Reading

-Listening to music

-Learning Languages

-Baking

-DnD

8) If you work, what's your profession?

No work

9) If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically?

3d and Concept Artist for CD Projekt Red or Historian

10) Something you're good at:

I guess the hobbies I listed… I usually don’t like to keep doing things I personally don’t think I’m good at. Also I just started learning how to play the piano and I guess I’m also not all bad at that, even though generally music definitely isn’t a strong suit of mine. Also like analysing stuff, memorising facts and writing essays for language and history classes

11) Something you're bad at:

-Math (mostly the things that aren’t with numbers)

-Chemistry

-Physics

- Social Stuff

- Remembering actually important things (ie. homework, appointments, etc.)

- Emotions

- Continuously doing things over long periods of time

- Cooking

12) Something you love:

- My pets

- My family

- My friends

- Creating

- Norway (specifically Oslo)

- Horror stuff

- Art

- Fiction(al Characters)

13) Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

The Witcher!!! I love this universe so much ✨

14) Something you hate:

- Homo- & Transphobes

- Right-Wing people (is that what they’re called in english?)

- Syringes

- Having a female body/Being seen as female

- Climate Change

- The sound of loud vacuum cleaners

- Water between my fingers

- Trump

- Not knowing what to do in Social Interactions

- Learning French

15) Something you collect:

- Books

- CDs



16) Something you forget:

- Assignments

- Appointments

- Dates for turning stuff in

17) What's your love language?

I’d say Quality time, but also Physical Touch even though I generally don’t like being touched by most idrk honestly 😅

18) Favourite movie/show:

Movies: JJK 0, Clash of Titans, Howl’s Moving Castle (prefer the book tho), The Lighthouse, The Blair Witch Project, Fight Club

Shows: JJK, My Babysitter’s a Vampire (fully available on YouTube btw), Rick and Morty

For both probably a lot more that I just forgot 😂

19) Favourite food:

Meatballs with Cucumber Salad and Mashed Potatoes, molten butter on top 😋

20) Favourite animal:

Cats 💯💯

21) What were you like as a child?

Kindergarten: Confident, a lot of friends, but also getting bullied

Elementary School: First year no friends, then friends, smart, (now burnt out) gifted kid, bookworm

Middle School: Daydreaming, worsening of social skills, found new friends tho

22) Favourite subject at school?

- Art ✨

- English

- Latin

- Biology

- Technically History, not a fan of current topic tho

23) Least favourite subject:

- French

- Maths

- Physics

- Chemistry

24) What's your best character trait?

I suppose that if I like someone, no matter if platonically, romantically or in whatever way, I will stand with them and do my best to help them if they have any problems: Got in a fight? Call me, I’ll mess that bitch up. Need a shoulder to cry on? I’m rushing over. Etc.

25) What's your worst character trait?

I guess I can sometimes be bad at taking criticism and I’m really unorganised, but like I know what is where and if it ain’t broken don’t fix it.

26) If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

Female body -> Male body

Or at least Hormone Therapy, Surgery, stuff like that

27) If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Two approaches:

Number one: my parents in their youth so I can tell them to invest in Apple, Amazon, etc.

Number two: David Bowie

Get to know your mutuals Game

Oooohh thank you for the tag @holy3cake

No pressure tagging @gwalch-mei @beginning-writer + OPEN TAG FOR ALL to answer these 27 random questions, I'll put a blank version in the comments!

What's the origin of your blog title?

Originally, "OnCrimsonWings" is my Ao3 username, which was a poetic kinda reference to Dante from Devil May Cry because his demon form has red wings. When I made this blog I knew I wanted it to include a reference to Lancelot/The Weeping Monk, so I just added "Lanced" to the Ao3 name.

It works on so many levels- as I also like winged Whumpees as a trope in general, and the name to me brings an image of a winged creature or person pinned by something sharp through the wing. It also works more as a poetic angel metaphor for Lancelot, as he's referred to as a dark/avenging angel in the role he's been molded into by the Church in Cursed, a role which is ultimately his downfall, like a fallen angel with crimson, or bloodied wings...

OTP(s) + Their shipname;

Lancewain; Lancelot (The Weeping Monk) x Gawain (The Green Knight) from Cursed

Melvik; Mel x Viktor from Arcane (also Jayvik; Jayce x Viktor, and Meljayvik; Mel x Jayce x Viktor)

Zaundads/Vanco; Vander x Silco from Arcane

BuckyNat/WinterWidow; Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) x Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) Marvel

Gwaenyra (Gwayne x Rhaenyra; House of the Dragon)

Colonel Everett Young x Dr. Nicholas Rush; Stargate Universe - I actually never really saw a shipname for these guys or I've forgotten it if I did know one

There's a bunch of others but that will do for now lmao

Favourite colour?

Purple!

Favourite game/s?

The Witcher 3, Skyrim, currently enjoying Monster Hunter, though the thing I have most hours in might actually be Fall Guys...

What song is currently stuck in your head?

In Maidjan by Heilung, I'm excited to see them live again soon!

Weirdest habit/trait?

I sit like a goblin in any and all chairs. (Except for when I'm physically tattooing, or in a formal meeting. Otherwise? If there is a chair I will be perched on it like a bisexual ass Goblin 100% of the time).

Uhhh and I can bend the first knuckle (closest to the fingertips) on my fingers whilst keeping the second/middle knuckles perfectly straight/locked.

Hobbies:

Playing piano, making cosplays, making chainmail, listening to music, playing D&D, keeping snakes and also doing Archery, as of late!

If you work, what's your profession?

Tattooing- for the next two weeks anyway. I also volunteer at my local zoo and do commission pet portraits!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically?

Tattooing but at a studio with a working toilet, repaired roof and decent non falling apart floors, where I am NOT the sole member of the studio 😂

Otherwise, doing something arty like making things or running my small buisness full time. Or if all goes well with this insane Uni plan I have, then working with snakes in some way shape or form. Not sure how, yet but. I dunno, it might be cool.

Something you're good at:

I'm a really creative person and I come up with a lot of really cool ideas!

Something you're bad at:

Maths, I mean I just struggle with numbers in general. And telling my left from right 😂

Something you love: 

Daniel Sharman. I mean. Look at him man's stunning

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: 

Snakes! And I did that when I took the snakes in to Scouts and taught them about snakes with not much prep time at all 😂

Something you hate:

People trying to control other people or put their views on them. (Eg. Very religious people that try and force you to believe their religion. Or Antis that hate on a fictional trope or ship or theme and think no one is allowed to read or write it. That sort of thing)

Something you collect: 

Books! I have several hundered, at this point, and that's after having to bin about 300 due to severe damp in a previous house.

Something you forget: 

I dunno. I forgot

What's your love language?

Giving gifts, I think, but I also like touching/leaning on people who I love (only when my skin doesn't feel bruised, which is basically always, and honestly most of the time I'm touch averse lmao). I'm not really sure.

Favourite movie/show: 

Movie; Labyrinth, Lost Boys, Avatar I & Avatar II: the way of water, LOTR Trilogy

Show; Arcane, The Witcher and Cursed

Favourite food:

I really like homemade stew and mash, but I can't make it (thanks fatigue) so I haven't actually had it in years. I love roasties (roasted potatoes) with copious amounts of butter on.

Favourite animal:

Snakes! Specifically I love Dumeril's Boas, Madagascan Ground Boas- and have one of each myself- and I have a soft spot for Boelen's Pythons and European Adders!

What were you like as a child? 

Always daydreaming in my own little world, shy, but also I had anger issues at the age of 4... so a bit of a shitbag lmao.

Favourite subject at school?

Art or Science, though I also liked music!

Least favourite subject: 

Maths. I always used to get yelled at for refusing to do homework, and for drawing in my book and putting my headphones in to listen to music. (It was actually helping me focus, but the fact I had ADHD was completely missed so I just got yelled at for it. I still got a B in my GCSEs though so fuck em!)

What's your best character trait?

I'm incredibly organised (because if I wasn't my life would be an absolute shambles as my memory is shit), and I'm very good at problem solving! If character trait more means "personality" then it would probably be that I am a very caring person.

What's your worst character trait?

I can be very stubborn and headstrong paired with the fact I am a control freak and like things organised, then that tends to frustrate both the people around me and myself...

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

I'd cure my disabilities. Just so I could continue tattooing and take on the studio- or just open my own elsewhere, or I'd go get a career out in the field with snakes and not have to worry about fatigue, collapse, pain or dietary issues wherever I went!

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Chester Bennington, 100%. I miss him. It's one of the biggest regrets of my life that I was meant to go and see him live on that final tour and I couldn't afford the tickets thanks to an unexpected bill. He was, and still is my hero.

[jathun]

At this point I think I might just write a whole ass essay on why self-insert characters never work...

[astracora]

someone's probably pointed this out cause i'm not browsing tags but

Caleb's flower is hydrangea.

Not only a flower that changes colour in differing soil (Caleb is a chameleon or changes who is is depending on the person he's talking to or where he is?)

But the meanings are;

One sided/obsessive love, heartlessness, frigidity/coldness, apology, family and gratitude.

[starmocha]

it was always you [Sylus/Reader ★ 10.6K words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] [part 2 of but if it’s forever, it’s even better] “A baby… A baby. Baby. …you’re pregnant. Pregnant. With my baby.” A/N: I let Tumblr peer pressured me into writing a part two. ❤️ there is also an epilogue-ish part three…that I am still polishing up, so uh, give me another three weeks?????

You had always known Sylus was a man of his words. He had made it known time and time again that he would never flatter you, never betray you, and most certainly never lie to you, so when the man himself promised that he would get you pregnant, he was going to get you pregnant.

“Sylus—ah! I…I might already be preg—ah!”

You bit down into his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clinging to him and clenching tightly as he continued to drive into you mercilessly, showing no sign of stopping or easing until you were both finished. You cried into his shoulder, gasping and moaning needily, as he spread you more, taking you in deeper and just hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

“Ohhh…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to even remember what you were about to say.

“Can’t be too sure,” Sylus said with a wolfish grin, pleased to see you such a quivering mess beneath him, cheeks all flushed red and eyes dazed with complete lust for him. Even though he could hear you protesting feebly, your body was betraying your true feelings, easily and eagerly taking him in.

“Sylus—!”

Sylus covered your mouth with his large hand, muffling the noises, but the feel of him still relentlessly thrusting in and out of you nevertheless had you helplessly moaning into his hand, your eyes looking up at him with tears brimming in the corners.

“Careful, sweetie,” he chided, smirking, “Wouldn’t want your neighbors to know what we’re doing, right?”

You moaned into his hand again, the feeling of him pounding into you had robbed you of all other coherent thoughts or even any feeling of modesty, your only focus in this moment was on him, the way he spoke, and the lewd noises of him fucking you. You whimpered and gasped when he removed his hand, but just as quickly your sounds were swallowed by his mouth as he greedily devoured your cries. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected the two of you. He gazed at you haughtily, completely obsessed by the dazed look you gave him.

He chuckled darkly, his hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing you. “Then again,” he murmured, eyes twinkling mischievously, “I don’t particularly care if anyone hears us.”

He kissed you again. “Going to give me an heir?” he murmured, his tone holding shades of a light tease.

You tried to glare at him, but he laughed it off. “You are insufferable,” you griped, but almost immediately after you said that, he purposefully thrusted in harder, watching with amusement when your eyes rolled to the back of your head again, your pleased moans countering your earlier annoyed tone.

“What was that, sweetie?” he teased.

“Sylus…” you whined and gripped his arm pleadingly, “I can’t take this anymore—how—oh, god—how much longer?”

His eyes darkened, taking in the sight of you shaking with pleasure beneath him. He had been pushing you to your limits, taking you whenever he could, as often as he could. His own breathing grew shakier, his thoughts wandering, his eyes glazing with desire.

Not until it’s confirmed.

Not until…you’re round and heavy with my child…

I need to keep breeding you…until you’re pregnant…

Gonna fill you up, knock you up…

Need to see you swell…make you mine…gonna fuck my child into you—

“Fuck—” The thought of you carrying his baby had him coming quicker than either of you expected, and you whined at the feeling of how full he was making you feel. It was too much, and yet, your own body wanted more, wanted to milk him until he was empty, until his seed flooded your womb completely.

“Sylus…!”

“Fuck, sweetie,” he panted, his large body hovered closely over yours, only held up by his forearms as he stared into your eyes as he emptied himself into you. He kissed you roughly, his frenzied words coming out in between sharp gasps of breath, “You’re going to look so fucking pretty with my baby in you. Won’t be able to keep my hands off of you—gonna feel you up, fuck you again and again—oh, sweetie…”

You whimpered against his kisses, his dizzying words making the blood rushed straight to your head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him tightly as you felt his body relaxing against yours. “Sylus…I feel so…full…”

He groaned as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You felt him nibbling on your skin, felt all of his body heat against yours as you both slowly settled down from your shared euphoria.

For the next few minutes, neither of you spoke, the only sound heard in your bedroom was the two of you steadying your breathing. Then, you heard Sylus speaking up: “Let’s rest for a bit,” he said, pulling out of you and laying facedown next to you, his arms slung protectively over your stomach. He peered at you with a weary smirk, saying, “We’ll continue again later…”

“What? Again?” You startled at his words, eyes widening in shock as you exclaimed, “We’ve already done it three times tonight!”

“Oh, sweetie, you know I have a big appetite—in more ways than one.”

He hungrily kissed you, your small face held in his large hands, his touch gentle, but his kisses were ravenous. He parted, giving you a moment to catch your breath, but his words did nothing to calm your racing heart: “And when it comes to you,” he husked, “my craving is never satisfied.”

“I can never face my neighbors again…”

“Good. You should come live with me in the N109 Zone anyway.”

“You can at least pretend to sympathize with me for one minute.”

“I wouldn’t know how. Being empathetic is not in my nature, sweetie.”

For the next few weeks, you fell into a strange routine. If you weren’t in Sylus’ bed, then he was in yours, and while you would often protest against his enthusiastic advances, eventually you would always succumb to your desires, letting him have his ways with you to his heart’s content.

With so much going on, you didn’t notice the telling signs at first.

Fatigue? Work had been hectic lately.

Nausea? There had been a bug going around the city.

Tender breasts? Perhaps you were about to have your period.

Except…that was when you realized your period never arriving. You went over the dates, checked the calendar three, four times, as you did the calculations in your head.

You were late.

Your heart sped up, hands already resting on your lower abdomen. Your nerves were in bundles, thoughts haywire.

You…might be…

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

With Sylus’ baby.

Several pregnancy tests later, you stared at the row of pregnancy tests on your bathroom counter neatly lined up with identical results: Positive. You were pregnant.

You sat down on the edge of your bathtub, hand once again feeling your flat belly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, so many questions weighing you down. You had, more or less, planned this, but now that it was a reality—now that you were pregnant with Sylus’ baby—you felt nervous.

You couldn’t even pinpoint the reason for your anxiety. It was just a combination of so many different things, and while you could just continue to sit and mull and worry on your own, you knew you would rather go see Sylus as soon as possible. Taking a look at the late time, you decided first thing tomorrow morning, you would head over to the N109 Zone and see Sylus.

For now, you hoped a warm shower could help calm your nerves enough for you to sleep through the night.

The following morning, you woke up early to do a few chores around the apartment before heading outside for a quick walk to clear your head. You walked around the block, silently rehearsing in your head the different ways you could make your announcement. The previous night, you had ended up staying up later than intended, browsing videos and social media posts about how other people had made their pregnancy announcements. While many of them were cute, some even ingenious, you felt they didn’t seem right for you and Sylus.

As you approached your apartment building again, still lost in thoughts, you heard a caw nearby and instantly frowned, mumbling to yourself, “Oh, no…”

After a quick scan of your surroundings, your eyes caught sight of the familiar metallic wings flapping overhead before a certain mechanical crow landed on a nearby tree to perch, his eyes staring straight in your direction. You gritted your teeth in annoyance before you calmed your breathing. You slowly exhaled, forced on a sweet smile, and then called out to the mechanical crow in a sing-song voice, “Oh, Mephie~ who’s a pretty birdie?”

Mephisto gave you an indignant caw, and you feigned hurt, pouting at him. “Oh, don’t be like that, Mephie,” you cooed, “We’re besties, remember?”

Mephisto shuffled on his perch, cocking his head at you in confusion.

“And as besties,” you continued, taking off your rings to dangle in front of the crow, “We should be nice to one another, right? Help each other out, even?”

You could have sworn you saw the gleam of interest in Mephisto’s eyes when he noticed the shiny rings you were waving at him. Gotcha, you thought, pleased that your plan was working out.

“These rings,” you said, holding them out in the palm of your hand, “for your silence on this matter.”

Mephisto looked up at you confused.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” you scolded the crow, folding your hand and gripping the rings tightly. “You are not telling Sylus about my pregnancy before me!”

You opened your hand again, holding up your bribe as offering. “Now, do we have a deal, Mephisto?”

You grinned when Mephisto eagerly and greedily seized the rings, giving you a nod before flying away with his new treasures.

You quickly headed inside to get changed. While Mephisto did seem to agree to your bribe, you still would rather head over to the N109 Zone as soon as possible to share the news with Sylus before any other mishaps could happen.

It was eight in the morning when you finally arrived at Onychinus’ base in the N109 Zone, an area constantly shrouded in darkness and where the entire concept of time felt utterly meaningless. It was also when Sylus would be asleep, seeing as his schedule and yours were polar opposite. Sylus tended to be in foul mood whenever he was woken up during his sleep, so you really should let him sleep for a bit longer. It almost didn’t seem right to wake him up so suddenly and, in according to his schedule, so early.

But then you remembered your recent bouts of morning sickness was all his fault, so you grinned and barged into his home loudly, startling Luke and Kieran who were lounging around in the dining area.

“Miss Hunter! What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Kieran rose from his seat in a chair while Luke remained seated on the table.

“Yeah, Boss is still asleep,” Luke added, “W-wait, where are you going?”

You grinned and ignored the twins who both gotten to their feet to trail after you nervously as you headed in the direction of Sylus’ bedroom.

“W-wait, Boss is going to be pissed if he’s woken up at this time!” Luke grabbed your arm to stop you, and you peered up at him with a startling sweet smile. Even with the mask covering his face, you could sense how nervous he was, whether it was because of the prospect of waking Sylus up or your frighteningly cheerful smile, you weren’t sure.

“It’s alright, you two,” you cooed, voice so saccharine it made them wonder what you were up to. You continued in a chipper voice, “He’s going to be thrilled by what I have to tell him.”

“Well,” Kieran started, scratching his head thoughtfully, “Miss Hunter does have him wrapped around her finger…”

“Right, Boss practically grovels at her feet—wait, don’t tell him I said that!”

By this point, you were already outside Sylus’ bedroom with the twins a good several feet away staring at you with mild horror. You quietly shooed them away and watched with a smile as they slunk back to the dining room while muttering among themselves. You couldn’t be bothered to care about what they could be whispering about.

You exhaled slowly, and then quietly opened the door, peering into the dark room with caution. Your eyes scanned the large bedroom, checking for any distractions, any oddities that could ruin this planned perfect moment.

“Good, Mephie is not in there,” you mumbled to yourself when you noticed the empty bird perch. You made a mental note to find something extra shiny for the mechanical bird for keeping his end of the deal. You continued your quiet surveillance, and when your eyes finally landed on the bed, you found Sylus asleep under the cover, seeing his chest rising and falling steadily.

You grinned.

As you tiptoed into the bedroom, you couldn’t help but noticed a large stray feather of Mephisto was laying on the floor. Your grin widened as you picked it up and made your way over to Sylus’ bed.

He was sound asleep.

He looked so peaceful, almost ethereal, even.

You smiled and leaned closer, using the feather to tickle his face.

Sylus stirred with an annoyed groan.

You quickly suppressed a giggle. Just as you were about to tickle his nose, Sylus opened his eyes and you startled from seeing his red irises so suddenly. Immediately, you let out a shriek when Sylus unexpectedly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into bed with him.

“You shouldn’t have snuck in here like this, sweetie,” he chided, holding you firmly to him.

You struggled in his embrace, but Sylus simply smirked, showing no sign of letting you go any time soon. “Who provoked who first?” he questioned arrogantly, giving your thigh a light smack.

You glared up at him, exclaiming, “Is that any way to treat the woman carrying your baby?”

He paused.

He stared.

And then he spoke—voice so rough, so dry.

“A baby… A baby. Baby. …you’re pregnant. Pregnant. With my baby.”

He had unconsciously let you go, barely noticing when you knelt next to him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. You watched with delight, seeing the normally calm and haughty crime leader having a complete brain malfunction as he attempted to process your news, his eyes darting back and forth from your face and your stomach. Several emotions flashed across Sylus’ eyes ranging from confusion to surprise to shock before finally settling on joy—absolute, complete wholehearted joy.

You gasped when he pulled you into his firm embrace again, your face pressed to his chest as you felt his hands rubbing you up and down. You whined against him and he looked down at you completely delighted. His lips instantly pressed against yours, silencing your cries.

“We’re having a baby,” he murmured again, still not quite registering the words, finding them to sound so foreign on his tongue. “My god, we’re having a baby…”

“How many times are you going to say that?” You looked at him with a pout and he just grinned at you again.

“Until you give birth.”

You instantly blushed. “What are you saying—”

He sat back, leaning against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. You watched as his large hand lay over your still-flat belly curiously. He shook his head in disbelief, huffing quietly, “A baby. There’s a baby in there…”

“Y-Yeah…” you mumbled back, still finding the whole situation surreal as well. It was your body, but even you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that you were now carrying a new life inside you. Your eyes rested on your stomach. It was still so flat. How could a baby be growing in there? How could you get bigger?

You tilted your head a little, your questioning thoughts starting to drift to a new direction. You wondered when you would start showing. When would you start to feel the little kicks and movements? How big were you going to get? Were you having a boy or a girl? Would Sylus truly love you like this—

You teared up. Sylus immediately noticed and looked startled.

You started crying.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Sweetie, why are you crying? Why are you upset?”

You were immediately pulled into his embrace, his hand automatically rubbing the back of your head gently to soothe you as you cried against his chest. You heaved and sobbed against him as he mumbled comforting words, hoping they would calm you down.

“Did I do something?” he questioned softly, feeling helpless when he felt you shaking in his arms, unable to calm down or speak clearly.

You shook your head.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

“N-no…” you mumbled feebly against his chest.

“Then why are you crying? Sweetie, talk to me…”

“I-I don’t know…”

Sylus peered down at your head and smiled gently. “I think a certain kitten is fibbing.”

“Quit it…”

“I will if she tells me why she’s crying.”

You grumbled against his chest, protesting quietly when he pulled you back to look at your reddened face and puffy eyes. He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your fresh tears as he shushed you gently. You sniffed.

“I’m going to get fat…”

Sylus looked confused.

And then he laughed.

“Ah, so is that why you are crying?” He chuckled, “Sweetheart, you are not going to get fat.”

“I’m going to gain weight!”

“For our baby,” he emphasized. “The baby is going to be growing inside you.”

“You’ll stop loving me…”

Sylus immediately frowned; his earlier mirth disappeared in that instance. His eyes narrowed in anger as he spoke coldly, “What did you say?”

You clammed up, unprepared for his entire demeanor change. You let out a shaky breath when Sylus grabbed your chin, gentle but firm, and held your gaze to him. His thumb brushed over your trembling lips as he spoke, his tone leaving no room for arguments, “I won’t ever stop loving you.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but the way he said those words so evenly, so softly and resolutely, they rang loud in the large room. Your heart pounded in your chest, his icy gaze on you rendered you speechless, making you forget about your earlier insecurities. He leaned his face closer to you, his lips just a breath away from yours. “If anything,” he continued, voice dropping lower, “I’ll love you even more.”

You whimpered when he captured your lips, his sweet kiss a binding seal for his ardent words. When he parted, he pressed his forehead to yours, his voice still breathless and unyielding, “Don’t ever question my love for you again.”

Your eyes lowered, embarrassed by your earlier outburst. You nodded obediently.

The room was quiet as you and Sylus remained still, him waiting patiently for you to calm yourself. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks reddening as you replayed the last few minutes in your mind, your embarrassment growing stronger as you realized how silly and ridiculous you were being.

“Sylus?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m having mood swings already…”

“No kidding…”

“What did you say?!”

“My kitten,” he answered, kissing your forehead. He lay back down in bed, pulling you on top of him gently. Your head lifted, your protests dying instantly when you caught sight of his sweet expression, eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face. Your heart instantly melted, any residual doubts lingering in your mind disappeared the moment you heard him sighing blissfully: “We’re having a baby…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let people know Onychinus’ leader is your baby daddy?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure-sure, or pregnancy-brain-I-might-change-my-mind-again-sure?”

“Sure-sure.”

“Positive?”

“Positive!”

“Really—”

“Sylus! Absolutely, positively, undoubtedly 100% sure!”

“Mood swing?”

“I will melt your vinyl collection.”

For the longest time, it seemed your belly continued to remain flat as a board, making even you yourself doubtful about whether or not you were truly pregnant. If it weren’t for that first ultrasound you got at your prenatal visit, you probably would have dismissed the whole thing as a false positive.

However, the moment you saw that small speck on the ultrasound photo, the moment you caught Sylus’ own surprised expression, you both knew that this was real. Your lives were changing in the most astoundingly beautiful way possible, and no matter how much you both may prep for the arrival of your bundle of joy, you knew nothing would ever be like before.

How wonderful, you thought.

One morning, early in your second trimester, you noticed a slight rounding in your middle after waking up. You cautiously touched it, startled by the feeling of the curve. You could have sworn that just eight hours earlier, you still had your flat stomach, but right now you could definitely see a distinct difference, see the way it was beginning to shape and fill out. You touched it more firmly, still unused to the surrealism of this moment.

“It’s…happening…” you muttered to yourself, still trying to come to terms with this reality. You startled again when you heard your phone ringing.

It was Sylus, wanting to video chat. You answered immediately.

“Good morning!” you greeted him.

“Morning,” he yawned back, and you realized it was probably his “night” time now. “I just wanted to check in on you before you went to work. How are you feeling?”

“Good!” you responded brightly. Possibly a little too brightly, because Sylus immediately raised a questioning brow.

“‘Good?’” he repeated, crossing his arms in confusion. “How’s your morning sickness?”

“Haven’t had any—yet,” you answered cautiously. Then you smiled brightly and adjusted the phone to show your midriff. You lifted your pajamas top excitedly, exclaiming, “But look! I’m starting to show!”

You had expected Sylus to be excited, but his expression and entire demeanor was a far cry from what you had anticipated the notorious Onychinus leader to have. He seemed upset, and you frowned, slowly pulling your top back down. “Why aren’t you excited?”

“Huh?” He didn’t seem to realize his expression was upsetting you. He sighed, and apologized immediately. “I am excited,” he clarified, though his tone suggested otherwise, “It’s just…”

“Just what?” you demanded, feeling hurt that his behavior was not like what you had expected.

“I want you here with me.”

Your face softened. “What?”

“You’re starting to show,” he continued, “and it made me realize I don’t want to miss another second of your pregnancy. I’m just…upset that I am not by your side right now, seeing your belly grow, feeling it, taking care of you…”

You could feel your cheeks warming because of his words.

“Come live with me?”

“But—”

Sylus sighed, already expecting the usual excuses: your job, your life, everything you loved was in bright, sunny Linkon City. Not the dark and dreary N109 Zone.

“But my plushies…”

Sylus blinked, confused.

“Sweetie, I have more than enough room here for your belongings.”

“My job—”

“Didn’t you say your captain was putting you on desk duty?” he interrupted you, smirking, “Surely the Hunters Association allows their employees—especially ones in their…delicate condition—the option to work remotely?”

“…”

“No more excuses?”

“Not at the moment…Give me a sec.”

Sylus chuckled. “I’ll have Luke and Kieran make arrangements for your move.”

You gawked at him. “I never said yes!”

“Not explicitly,” he agreed and then tilted his head a little, smirking, “So explain to me why your eyes shined so brightly when I made my offer?”

You slumped in bed and stared at the phone—at Sylus’ insufferable smirk.

“Sweetheart…”

“I want you next to me, too,” you confessed as you looked down at the small bump forming. You tentatively touched it. “I want you with us.”

You looked up at the phone screen just in time to see Sylus had a quick intake of breath, his eyes had widened a fraction, easily missed by those with untrained eyes. Then, he shook his head, almost as if in disbelief by what he had heard. He chuckled to himself. “Sweetheart, I’ll see you in an hour.”

You looked confused. “I thought you were going to bed now?”

“How can I sleep after hearing you say something so adorable?”

You blushed, and tried to keep your voice and expression neutral. “Go to bed,” you said as sternly as possible in spite of Sylus’ amused smirk at your transparent attempt. “I’m getting ready to go to work.”

“Call out,” he demanded.

“No—”

“Fine,” he said, interrupting you to your confusion, “I’ll just show up to your workplace at the end of your work day.”

You stared at the phone, mouth agape. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you just make a threat?”

He shook his head, feigning hurt. “I am merely concerned for my pregnant girlfriend.”

“No,” you repeated firmly. “Do. Not. Come. To. My. Work. Place.”

“How mean,” he cooed mockingly, “You won’t allow me to see you, you won’t let people know I fathered your baby—”

“About that—”

He looked at you suspiciously. “What?”

“People kind of know…”

“I don’t understand,” he said, frowning. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. “You said you didn’t want people to know the leader of Onychinus knocked you up.”

“Well, yes—and they still don’t know that.” You bit your bottom lip nervously, flinching a little when Sylus questioned you again impatiently. “I couldn’t just not give them a name—Tara was so excited about the news and well—”

“Well, what?”

“I said Skye fathered my baby.”

“Who’s Skye—you did what?” Sylus paused, remembering. And then he laughed. “I see, so ‘Skye’ is your baby daddy then.”

The minute Sylus started smiling, you felt an uncomfortable feeling growing in the pit of your belly. You knew it wasn’t your morning sickness making you feel queasy in that moment. The knot worsened when Sylus started chuckling. You flustered and asked, mildly annoyed, “Why are you laughing?”

“No particular reason,” he answered affably, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I can be okay with this. In fact—”

Sylus’ smile widened. “I won’t come see you after work today after all.”

You breathed out in relief, but that brief moment of serenity disappeared just as quickly the moment Sylus finished his thought:

“‘Skye’ will pick you up today after work.”

“You are absolutely insufferable.”

“See you at five, sweetheart,” Sylus responded, smirking as he ended the call and you were left staring at your bewildered reflection in the darkened phone screen.

“Well, Baby,” You started, staring down at your small bump. You gently placed a hand over it, giving it a tentative rub. “Your daddy can be an ass sometimes…”

“You actually brought your plushies.”

“You said you have room for them.”

“I do, but—”

“But what?”

“I don’t remember getting Bunbun, Artsy Birb, or Happy Snowman with you…”

“…don’t worry about them.”

Before you knew it, you began calling Onychinus’ base your home. Not a second home, not a temporary home, but home. There were days you would wake up feeling disoriented, still not quite used to the N109 Zone’s seemingly eternal darkness. There were also many mornings you would find yourself missing and yearning for the sunlight in Linkon City, but those feelings of longing disappeared the moment you felt Sylus’ arm wrapped around your waist, feeling your growing belly and hearing his soft breathing so close to you.

Your eyes fluttered opened one particular day—or, perhaps, it was night, you weren’t quite sure yet—and you felt a familiar warmth behind you. You looked down and saw a large hand covering your growing bump.

You smiled.

Your belly had grown steadily these past few weeks, becoming more and more prominent each day, and while it seemed big to you, it still looked quite small when Sylus touched it. You stared at his large hand nearly covering your entire middle, and you swallowed nervously, realizing you still had several more months of your pregnancy. Plenty of time for your baby to grow bigger.

Much bigger.

You felt nervous.

And scared.

You started to cry.

Sylus immediately woke up when he sensed the sudden shift in your emotions.

“Sweetie?” He was immediately alert, sitting up and pulling you closer to him as he examined you all over looking for anything that could be causing you discomfort or distress. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“How am I supposed to have your big babies?!”

Sylus looked floored.

“…excuse me?”

You continued crying hysterically. “How am I supposed to push out your big babies?!”

Sylus blinked, still not quite following your train of thought. He knew your hormones had been fluctuating all over the place, but even that did not prepare him for this conversation. He rubbed his forehead, half-wondering if he was still asleep and dreaming this whole ridiculous situation. He sighed when you continued to hysterically ramble:

“What was I thinking letting you knock me up with your big babies? Fuck, I wasn’t thinking—I was just a horny little slut! And now I have your big baby inside me! How am I expected to push out a baby that size? Oh, god, what if I can’t—Sylus, stop laughing at me!”

Sylus was leaning against the headboard, his whole body shaking in amusement as he watched you spiral. He chuckled when you attempted to punch his shoulder, but his quick reflex easily allowed him to grab your wrist gently before pulling you into his embrace. He hummed happily when he felt your small bump pressed against his stomach.

“Sweetheart, you are worrying over nothing…”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not gonna be pushing something out of your—"

He kissed your lips, silencing you immediately. “It will be fine,” he reassured you, “Your body was made for this.”

“…for average sized baby…not what you’ve given me…”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, half-amused, half-confused. “I might regret asking this,” he said, giving your cheek a teasing pinch to your annoyance, “but what makes you so certain the baby is going to be abnormally big?”

“Look at you!”

He shrugged, still not quite following your train of thought.

“Sylus!”

“Look,” he started while stroking your head soothingly, his voice gentle, “The doctor said you are meeting all of the expected weight gain on time. Not under, and not over.”

You continued to sulk.

“The baby is growing at a perfectly normal rate.”

“But what if—"

He sighed. “I know all of this is scary right now—” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “And I—I can’t truly fathom your anxiety. You’re scared and I wish I can make you feel better—”

You looked up curiously.

He smiled and rubbed your cheek where he had previously pinched tenderly. “I am so bad at this…”

You stared at Sylus’ helpless smile and you felt a warmth spreading in your chest. This big intimidating man with such an imposing aura, such unfathomable confidence and charisma was rendered helpless and lost by you. You felt oddly touched by this. Your smaller hands grabbed his, holding it close to your cheek and you smiled at Sylus, surprising him.

“I might have overreacted,” you admitted sheepishly, adding, “I’m feeling better now, Sylus…”

He furrowed his brows. “Are you sure?”

You nodded and kissed his palm, your hand caressing his. “I’m still nervous,” you admitted, and Sylus’ expression softened, “But…I feel safe with you…”

He smiled and gathered you into his lap, holding you securely to him. He nuzzled his cheek against your head. “I wish I could take away all of your worries,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to lie to you or make promises I can’t keep…”

He kissed you sweetly, his voice still soft and gentle, “I can only promise that I will stay by your side for as long as you’ll have me…”

His hand lowered, feeling your belly, feeling the life the two of you had made together. “As long as you’ll both have me.”

You smiled at him, eyes brimming with tears.

He wiped the corners of your eyes, tsking softly. “Now,” he continued, his tone lightening, “Any other worries I need to quell tonight?”

You stilled, looking deep in thought. Sylus was only teasing, but he grew concerned when you seemed to ponder his inquiry seriously. He tilted your chin up, your gaze meeting his. He asked, “What is it?”

“Do…do you think I’m still…pretty?”

He blinked, and then he shook his head, amused. “Is that even a question?”

You looked at him sullenly. “Don’t patronize me…I’m serious.”

“Very pretty,” he murmured, grabbing your face, his lips pressed roughly against yours. You gasped and panted, not expecting the fierce kisses from him. His hand rested behind your head, your hair roughly tangled in between his long, slender fingers as he spoke deeply, a faint growl heard in the back of his throat, “So fucking pretty.”

You whined against his lips, and Sylus chuckled as he continued to mumble in between his relentless kisses, “My pretty, knocked up hunter, all round and swollen with my baby, so cute and needy—fuck, I can’t get enough of you…”

“Sylus…” You panted, feeling your body warming up as you listened to his voice, hearing that sinful rasp full of desire for you. You unconsciously rubbed yourself against his thigh and Sylus hissed, grabbing your hips.

“Sweetie…what are you doing?”

You blushed. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

He looked at you knowingly. He gripped your hips tighter, smirking. “You’re really testing my restraint right now…”

You looked at him expectantly, biting your bottom lip. He groaned at the sight.

“Sweetie, my self-control can only go so far…”

“What if…” you looked at him, eyes glazing with desire. “I say…I want you right now?”

“What?” Sylus looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to repeat your words. You felt your cheeks warming up under his intense gaze, but more than that, you also felt a burning inside you as you realize how much you missed and ached for his touch.

“What is this lewd expression you are giving me,” he murmured, tipping your chin up. He leaned down and planted kisses along your neck, nipping and sucking as his hands roamed down your body. You shivered against him as he spoke, “Are you…giving me permission, sweetie?”

“…Yes.”

That was all Sylus needed to hear.

His lips crashed upon yours again, hands fumbling with clothes, making quick work to discard them. Your needy gasps and moans mingled with his own impatient grunts and groans as you both gave in to the pleasure you had both abstained from these past few weeks.

“Sy—ohhh…”

Sylus had you on your side, your leg held up by him as he slid in slowly, his movements more careful than normal as he gauged your reaction, making sure to prioritize your comfort and wellbeing first. He placed a hand over your belly, cradling it possessively. “Who put this baby in you?” he demanded, the rasp in his voice noticeable, making you throbbed inside.

“Y-you, Sylus!”

He kissed your neck. “That’s right,” he murmured, nipping at your skin and leaving his marks, “It’s my child growing inside you, my child in your womb.”

You shivered against him.

“Sylus…more…please…”

“Are you sure—”

“Yes!”

He smirked at your eager, impatient response. His face buried into your neck, his voice husky with desire, “It looks like it’s going to be a long night…”

“I can’t be around Luke and Kieran anymore.”

“Are they bullying you, sweetie? Just bully them right back, you have my permission.”

“That’s not what I meant—never mind. I just…feel like they know what we did…”

“Did they say something?”

“No, it’s the way they looked at me…”

“…they wear masks all the time. How can you tell?”

“I just know.”

“Sweetie…”

“Don’t you dare say I am being hormonal again!”

“…”

Ping!

“Sylus, what the hell?! Did you just text an emoji to me?!”

“I did as you said. I did not say you were hormonal.”

“You texted me the ‘pondering’ Grumpy Crow emoji!”

“It could mean anything.”

Ping!

“…Really, sweetie? The ‘annoyed’ Grumpy Crow emoji?”

“It could mean anything.”

You should have known that Sylus would be prepared for your pregnancy cravings, although, you couldn’t help but felt that he had taken things too far.

“Um…” Luke opened the fridge and stared inside for a moment before closing the door. He turned and stared at you from behind his mask. “Is Miss Hunter craving yogurt?”

“What?” You paused in your work and looked up from your laptop confused. “What are you talking about—”

Luke opened the fridge door again, giving you a grand view of the assorted brands and flavors of yogurt that filled the fridge in every conceivable spot possible.

“I—” you stared, mouth agape, “I simply said yesterday, ‘yogurt sounds tasty right now’!”

Kieran strolled over and opened the freezer door and you all stared awkwardly at the containers after containers of frozen yogurt that also lined the shelves.

“At least he is attentive,” Kieran responded pleasantly while you sat there unsure if you should feel happy or exasperated by Sylus’ gesture.

“Let’s see,” Luke started, pointing at each container as he listed the different types, “You have the regular yogurt, Greek yogurt, French-style, organic, dairy-free, low-fat, probiotic—”

“You also have plain yogurt,” Kieran cheerfully chimed in, adding, “Vanilla, strawberry, peach, raspberry, cherry, mango, coconut, pomegranate…”

“Key lime pie, strawberry-banana, chocolate, cookies ‘n’ cream, mixed berry, orange crème…”

“It’s the salad dressing incident all over again…” you bemoaned, earning absolutely no empathy from the two men in the room, who seemed to be delighted by this odd situation.

“Maybe next time you should be more specific,” Luke said unhelpfully, earning instantly a glare from you. He held up his hands in defense and shrugged. “Say, Miss Hunter, can I have one of the—”

“Be my guest,” you said, sighing when Luke happened to grab the vanilla yogurt that came with crushed chocolate cookies to sprinkle on top.

“Wait, does Miss Hunter even have any cravings right now?” Kieran pondered aloud.

Sex, your mind unhelpfully answered for you before you shooed that traitorous thought away. You forced a pleasant smile on your face and shook your head as you rubbed your growing belly. “Not really. This little one doesn’t seem to mind what I eat.”

“Huh,” Luke said as he stirred the cookies into his yogurt. “No wonder Boss is desperate to find anything to buy for you…”

Kieran nodded in agreement with his brother, adding, “He must really want the whole pregnancy experience with you…”

“Is that so?” You couldn’t help but feel touched by Sylus’ gesture now.

“Maybe you should make something up,” Luke suggested.

You rolled your eyes. “Be for real, you two. I am not going to make up some cravings when I don’t have any just so Sylus can—”

“How about pickles and hot chili-lime tortilla chips?” Kieran suggested, looking up from his phone.

“What are you—actually, that does sound good…”

“What sounds good?” Sylus walked into the kitchen, interrupting your conversation. You glared at Luke and Kieran into keeping their silence, and the two nodded reluctantly.

“Never mind that,” you said, standing up with Sylus’ help, “Are you ready to go to Linkon City?”

Sylus sighed. “The doctors in the N109 Zone are just as good. Hell, I can even get you your own personal doctors to come to our home—”

“Sylus, I want to go to Linkon City. Please?”

One look at your pouting lips had Sylus yielding to you immediately. He sighed again and shook his head in defeat, “Fine, fine, whatever you like, sweetie.”

As you and Sylus started to leave the kitchen, Luke piped up, “Hey, Boss, do we have any yogurt around here?”

You shot Luke the dirtiest look you could muster, making a mental note to get back at him again for his comment.

It was a girl.

It was going to be a girl.

Any worries that Sylus would be disappointed in the gender immediately left your brain the moment you caught sight of his awestruck stare as he gazed at the monitor where you both watched the baby make little movements.

The doctor left the two of you alone to gather your thoughts, to bask in this private joyous moment. The moment the door closed and you two were truly left alone, you both let out the breath you were holding in.

Sylus was the first to speak, his voice more surprised than you had ever heard from the usual confidant man: “We’re having a girl…”

Your heart skipped a beat. It seemed each day, everything felt more real than the last. You knew you were having a baby, of course, but now that you knew it was going to be a girl…you felt so many conflicting emotions coursing through yourself: joy, worry, fear, doubts.

But when you looked upon Sylus, any insecurities you felt disappeared instantly, because you knew he would never leave you to handle things alone. If anything, you knew he would shoulder all of the hardship if he could just so you would never have to suffer for a second in your life.

“Sweetie…”

You gazed into his crimson eyes the moment you felt his hand on your cheek.

“Thank you…”

You blinked in confusion, but he never elaborated further. Instead, you felt his lips on yours, his touch more tender, more protective. As you parted, you saw his eyes drifted from the monitor to your belly, his expression was so tender and heartfelt.

You smiled when you realized you were no longer the only girl in Sylus’ heart.

Bright red eyes. Long, straight nose. Full lips.

“Are you not hungry tonight, sweetie?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes,” Sylus said, frowning, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Uh, no…” you responded, blushing in embarrassment.

“Then what’s wrong? Is the food not to your liking? Do you want to order something else?”

“N-no,” you answered, stopping Sylus from calling the waiter over. Your blush seemed to deepen even more, embarrassed for so many different reasons now. “It’s fine. The food is yummy. Look, I’m eating!”

You took a bite of the roasted chicken on your plate to prove a point. Sylus didn’t look satisfied, so you sighed in defeat and placed your fork and knife down. You breathed in slowly, preparing yourself for your little confession. “Alright…just…don’t laugh at me…”

He huffed in amusement at your preface.

“I just said don’t laugh at me!” you looked up, glaring at him.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded good-naturedly, “So what’s wrong?”

“I was…imagining…”

“Imagining?”

You blushed.

“Imagining what?” Sylus questioned, furrowing his brows as he leaned forward, reaching across the table to grab your chin, turning you to face him. “Answer me.”

“Just…what…the baby will look like…with your features…”

He blinked in surprise, letting go of your chin. He leaned back in his seat, chuckling in amusement.

“You’re laughing at me again!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he objected. He leaned forward again, his left elbow propped on the table, his chin cradled in his hand as he smiled smugly at you. “You’re just so cute.”

If it was possible, your blush probably deepened to another shade. You tried to focus on your dinner, but this time you could feel Sylus’ eyes watching you intensely. You could practically feel your heart pumping fast and hard in your chest. You startled when you heard him speaking again:

“But shouldn’t the baby also have your features as well, sweetie?”

“Well…probably,” you answered.

“I think she’ll look much prettier if she looks like her mommy.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t flatter me.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s factual,” he countered with a grin. “And her mommy is very pretty.”

You quietly ate your dinner, pretending you didn’t hear him, though inside you felt delighted by his praises. Sylus continued to watch you eat, amused by your transparent act. He could practically see you brimming with joy at his compliments.

“Shall I order dessert?” he asked, already calling the waiter over. He didn’t even look at the menu, saying, “One of everything.”

You gaped. “We couldn’t possibly finish all of that!”

He shrugged. “We’ll take them to go then.”

“That—that’s not what I—” Your eyes widened as Sylus ignored your protests and gave the revised order to the waiter. “Sylus, that’s too much!”

He chuckled again. “Sweetie, you deserve to be pampered,” he said, “Let me lavish and spoil you during this special time.”

He reached across the table again, wiping your lips with his thumb. You heart skipped a beat as you watched him licked his thumb clean. “Besides,” he started, gazing at you fondly, “You’re already giving me the greatest gift ever.”

“I still think you ordered too much.”

“Complain all you want you, sweetie, but when it’s 2 AM and you are craving a lemon-raspberry cheesecake, you will thank me.”

“But I haven’t had that many cravings during this pregnancy! I’m actually a little disappointed…”

“Shall we play the guessing game then?”

“No alcohol.”

“I obviously wasn’t going to suggest—stop glaring at me.”

Another wet dream.

Some women were exhausted. (You were exhausted.)

Some have weird food cravings. (You had a different craving.)

Some may even be emotional. (You were very, very emotional.)

But you.

Well…you…were having wet dreams and an out-of-control sex drive. (Fuck.)

You woke up one morning groaning in annoyance. You remembered bits and pieces of the lewd dream, enough that you were squirming now that you were awake, feeling frustrated in parts because one: you couldn’t finish the dream, and two: you really needed to finish…

You suddenly noticed Sylus was asleep in bed next to you. You briefly wondered why you didn’t notice him getting into bed earlier, but the thought quickly dashed away when your sex-crazed brain suddenly noted appreciatively that he had fallen asleep in his bathrobe again, the belt barely tied around his waist, exposing his toned torso to you.

A book was lying next to him, and his reading glasses were tilted on his face. You surmised he must have fallen asleep while reading earlier. A mischievous thought found its way into your head, and for a brief second, you contemplated, questioning your own motives.

Well, you were only going to help him take his glasses off. You didn’t want them to break. You were just being thoughtful. Truly.

You hauled yourself up, groaning at the increasing difficulty with each day that your belly grew. You steadied your hand over your bump, giving it a gentle rub before you crawled over and climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

Sylus was still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly.

You held back a moan when you realized he hadn’t put on any undergarment after his shower. What a sneaky bastard.

You leaned forward, touching the frame of his glasses. You hissed when you felt your round stomach pressed forward, touching his toned abdomen. The crisp scent of his body wash wafted in the air so close to your nose, making you just want to lean forward and inhale deeply.

You shook your head, chiding yourself silently before you quickly took his glasses off and placed them on the nightstand.

As you were about to climb off of him, you felt yourself brushing against him—against his bulge. You swallowed slowly, feeling a warmth spread in your core. You could practically feel yourself throbbing and aching inside.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

Maybe you could be quick and…

You were just going to…

Sylus’ eyes shot opened when he felt a new weight on top of him. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of you on top of him, shamelessly grinding against him. His brain quickly caught up with the situation and he laughed, as he reached out to grab your hips, pulling you into his embrace.

“Well, good morning to you, too, sweetie,” he laughed, kissing your lips, “Is this how you’re going to wake me up from now on? Because I like it.”

You blushed in embarrassment. “I—I can explain.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Grinning, Sylus reached under your nightgown, cupping your sex and rubbing his hand against the fabric of your soaked panties, making you gasped and moaned loudly, the feel of him touching you was a welcoming friction. “Really?” he questioned, his voice dropping an octave lower, “You can explain why you’re so wet right now?”

“Sy-Sylus…” you practically whimpered his name, looking at him pleadingly. You were already suffering from your out-of-control hormones, and right now, that delightfully sinful and sultry voice of his was only making things worse.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he cooed, “Need to get yourself off on my cock?”

You really did whimper this time.

He looked amused as he undid the belt of his robe. You followed Sylus’ every movement, watching with rapt attention as he wrapped his hand around his magnificent cock and began stroking himself leisurely. His own eyes remained locked on you, relishing in the way you were reacting to him. You swallowed, feeling your insides pulsing, needing to be filled by him.

“Ride me,” he ordered. You shuddered at his tone, but you were also more than ready and willing to listen to him. He smirked as he helped you removed your drenched panties, amused by the needy state you were already in this early in the morning. He helped steadied you on top of him, helped you aligned yourself to him, and then in one fluid motion—

“Fuck…” Sylus threw his head back, groaning, as you eagerly sank down on his fat cock. He looked back at you, grinning at the sight of your aroused face taking him in so deeply. “If I’d known being pregnant would make you this insatiable, I would have knocked you up sooner, sweetie.”

You mewled happily when his large hand touched your round belly, rubbing it in slow circles.

“Look at you,” he crooned, leaning up and leading your lips to his. He nibbled on your bottom lip, his voice a soft murmur, “So sweet for me.”

You gasped as he reached out and pulled down the strap of your nightgown, exposing your breast. They had grown considerably throughout your pregnancy, the areolas had darkened, and your breasts felt very heavy with milk for the baby still in your womb. As you rode him, your breasts bounced heavily, the sight turning him on more and more.

You moaned as his hands groped you, his voice heavy with arousal, “Gonna keep you like this…”

You let out a shuddering gasp when he thrusted up, your hands instantly steadying yourself on his chest. You looked into his eyes as he rubbed your belly again.

“Sylus—”

You closed your eyes, gasping and panting as his mouth took in your sensitive nipple. A lick, a tease, and you could already feel it firming up as he sucked eagerly while his hands roamed your body, every touch of his making your skin burned hot. As the morning wore on, you couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be when your milk would come in and he would have a taste as well.

You couldn’t wait.

“For the last time, Sylus, we are not buying everything in the catalog!”

“Why not? I can afford it.”

“I know you can afford it, but I don’t need all of these items. The baby doesn’t need all of these items!”

“Sweetie, I am only making sure you and my daughter will want for nothing.”

“Thoughtful, if not ill-conceived.”

“How heartless. You do not appreciate my generosity enough.”

“I will once you explain the crow-themed nursery you had Luke and Kieran planning.”

“A compromise since you will not allow me to make a mechanical crow for her.”

“Incorrigible.”

Sylus had always loved spoiling you, be it with material items, praises, or his affections. It was his sole belief that you deserved to be lavished, to be gifted and spoiled with the luxuries of the world, and within the bedroom, he made sure you were worshiped in other ways. Your every whim was his to answer, and he did so willingly, devotedly, and ardently.

The bedroom lights dimmed, and a record played soft, sensual music in the room.

You found yourself standing bent over his bed, large belly hanging low as he approached you from behind. Large calloused hands held your widened hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh and already drawing out your fluttering gasps as you trembled with anticipation, already shamelessly imagining that deliciously large, thick cock of his penetrating you so deeply, in ways no other man could ever compare.

He lifted your right leg, holding it higher at hip level to give him an even better access to your soaked pussy.

“You’re so beautiful…and all mine…”

You moaned into the mattress as you felt him easing in.

“Doing alright?” he questioned, showing a moment of hesitancy as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“Yes…yes…Sylus…more…”

He smirked and continued, filling you just the way you wanted.

“I just want to keep you like this…” he murmured, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than you.

Heavy with my child…

Want to keep you bred.

Knock you up over and over and over again…

“Oh, Sylus, you’re being so rough!”

He startled, snapping out of his thoughts. He slowed his movements before bending over and kissing your shoulder apologetically. “I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“I want you…please?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek. “How can I resist my dear hunter’s sweet request?”

As he began moving again, your fingers curled around the bedsheets, little moans escaped. Unwittingly, you mumbled into the sheets, your words reaching his ears, “More…want…to give you more…”

“What?”

You whined when he stilled. “Sylus…please…”

“What were you…saying?”

Your hand reached around your large belly, rubbing it provocatively. Sylus felt like he had stopped breathing. The very suggestion, the mere idea that you were already hinting that you would let him impregnate you again made him more aroused than he already was.

Sylus breathed in sharply, fingers pressing deeper into your hips.

He smirked.

He drove into you, fast and unforgiving, panting hard with a pleased grin on his face as you buried your face into the mattress, fingers gripping the bedsheets tighter as you cried out his name again and again.

“Are you going to let me fuck you like this again?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“Gonna let me put another baby in you after this one?”

“Yes, Sylus, yes!”

He groaned and buried himself deep inside you, his body loomed over yours, his sinfully deep voice close to your ear now. You shivered as he whispered into your ear, “Do you like being pregnant with my baby, sweetie?”

You moaned when his hand felt your large belly, rubbing it all over possessively.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes…I love being pregnant with your baby!” you cried out, voice growing more desperate to his delight as you found yourself unable to stop the words from leaving your lips. “I want to have more of your babies, Sylus! Want to give you as many babies as you want—”

You screamed into the mattress as he picked up his pace again, taking you harder than before. Your tantalizing words seemed to only have spurred him on, his crimson eyes gleaming brightly while a smug smile graced his handsome face. You gasped and moaned, whimpering to him, “Ohhh…Sylus…! Gonna cum…ah…gonna cum, Sylus…!”

He groaned as he felt your walls tightened around him. He panted, his hands rubbing your hips soothingly as he husked, his own breathing uneven as he felt he was close to finishing as well, “C-cum for me, sweetie. Cum on my cock—”

He stilled, his head thrown back with a deep groan as he felt you coming undone, your euphoric cries music to his ears. With a few more hard, deep thrusts, his own climax came, and you felt him filling you with ropes after ropes of his cum. You felt so full.

He leaned over you, his body heavy on yours. You felt his warm kisses along your neck, his divinely rich voice so close to your ear. “You love being pregnant with my baby…you want more of my babies…”

“Uh huh…” you answered back breathlessly with a smile.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groaned at the sight of your suggestive, mischievous smile. “I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

He smirked and grabbed your chin, guiding your sweet lips to his. “When did I become so lucky?”

He pulled out with a groan, chuckling at the lewd sight of his cum dripping obscenely out of you and down your legs. He gathered you into his arms, smiling as you snuggled closer to him, tired but also immensely satisfied. You felt him laying you down in bed, settling in next to you and holding you close to his own body. Sylus watched over you as you rested next to him, his eyes fixated fondly on your sleepy face while his hand rubbed your belly soothingly to calm your restless baby in your womb.

“She’s moving so much tonight,” he murmured, bemused.

“Can you blame her?” you answered, eyes still closed, but your hand rested over Sylus’, guiding him to where you felt the most movements.

He chuckled. “Fair point,” he conceded. He leaned down and kissed your belly, whispering sweet words to your daughter, his voice holding so much love and devotion for the baby you two made together.

You opened your eyes, smiling at the sight of him caressing your belly adoringly. You had never thought there would be a moment like this in your life, never dared to dream of a love as sweet and pure as this. You wondered if you had traded all of the good luck in your lifetime for this man and the life you were both embarking on together.

“Do…do you want more?” you asked suddenly, voice tentative, almost fearful.

Sylus seemed to stop breathing for a moment.

“More…children,” you clarified.

He exhaled, and laughed. He settled more comfortably in bed, pulling you into his embrace, his hand already stroking your hair gently, already easing your worries. You relaxed under his tender ministration, eyes closing as you listened to his voice:

“Hearing the pitter-patters of little feet in this large house…why, that might be my new dream…”

You hummed in agreement before a yawn escaped. Sylus smiled.

“Shall I tell you a story, sweetie?”

“Mmhmm…”

“There once was a lonely old crow,” he began, gentle eyes gazing down at your sleepy face, “He lived only for himself…until he found a kitten…”

“A kitten?” you mumbled drowsily; eyes still closed. You yawned again and snuggled closer to Sylus. You sighed contentedly when you felt his hand stroking your head. His presence was so warm, so protective and loving, you felt like you could sleep and dream forever in his arms.

“A kitten,” Sylus repeated, continuing, “A kitten…he wanted to protect…and love…”

Sylus paused, hearing soft snoring. He looked down and saw that you had already fallen asleep. He stroked your hair, wrapping strands around his finger.

“They’ll live happily ever after together,” he promised.

Sylus had never cared for sunlight.

He had traversed in darkness and made himself ruler of a city shrouded in never-ending darkness. He lived within the shadows and only knew of this isolating world—of this existence.

Until he met you.

He had crossed over to your world, stepped into the light, into the warmth of the sun. Even though he still found the light unpleasant, he was willing to bear it all just to be near you. To see the joy on your face as you walked under the sun again after so long was a sight to see.

You always did make the sun more bearable, he thought, feeling your hand slipping out of his. You walked on unaware while Sylus fell behind, admiring the beauty in front of him.

Bathed in daylight, Sylus saw a blinding vision, a bright future with you in his life, by his side steadfastly. He knew he had stolen a piece of Heaven, already prepared and willing to pay the heavy price to keep what he had coveted.

“Will you be my wife?” he asked suddenly and you paused in your steps, realizing he had fallen behind. You turned and looked at him, cheeks tinged a pretty shade of pink, unsure if you had misheard him or not. “What did you say?”

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement at your coy look. He walked toward you slowly, but his long legs easily closed the distance between the two of you in no time. “Make an honest man out of me,” he said. Gentle crimson eyes peered down at you full of resolve and love. His hand caressed your cheek lightly, his voice soft and sultry, “Be my bride?”

“But…I’m pregnant,” you reminded him feebly, not noticing his confused look. You lowered your eyes to the ground, but truly all you could see was your large, round belly. It had been a while since you last saw your feet. You were all too aware of Sylus’ eyes on you, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you replayed his earnest words in your mind. You continued meekly, “I’ll look fat in a wedding gown…”

He laughed. Sylus leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’re not fat,” he said sternly, “You’d look gorgeous even with this belly—why, I might enjoy it even more.”

You huffed doubtfully. You continued to avert gazes with him, but you could still feel the warmth of where his lips were on your cheek. Your heart continued to race and you could feel the baby in your belly growing more active, possibly sensing your tumultuous emotions. You unconsciously cradled your belly, rubbing soothing circles.

Sylus noticed and he smirked, tilting his head in amusement. He tipped your chin up, his lips mere centimeters from yours. “I want everyone to know that you and this baby are mine.”

“Sylus…”

“Sweetheart, it was always you,” he said, “There is no one else.”

He pecked your lips, so light and fleeting, you yearned for more. Your eyes rested on Sylus, his entire being engraved into your memories, into your heart, into your soul. When you looked into his beautiful eyes, you could see forever. There was only one answer you could give him.

“How about it?” he murmured, his deep voice was like honey to your ears, so sweet and sensual in the way he uttered just those three simple words. “Marry me?”

You smiled. “Guess this is forever…”

In mere seconds, you were enveloped in his warmth, his eyes seeing only you, only the life that was about to unfold.

“When did my luck change?” Sylus wondered aloud, stealing kisses after kisses from you.

When indeed…

The pieces of your lives fell into place, this picture of paradise becoming clearer with each passing moment. It was yours to keep, yours to hold.

How divine.

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[ryllen]

Older Sylus as actual dad 😭👌✨

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

"If you were also an art piece, then whoever created you... must have loved you dearly."

The way Sylus always effortlessly drops the most beautiful lines of poetry...

My loverboy. My shaylaaa 💘

These lines are reminiscent of a scene in Grassland Romance. More specifically the one where Sylus says "Ta-da. My Magnum Opus" after he's braided MC's hair... just like in this new 5 star basically declaring MC as his masterpiece

I love the way his writers always tie his new cards back to the old ones... as a sappy sentimentalist I truly appreciate it ❤️

[dawnbreakersgaze]

The fact that Dr Zayne is saving people who want to live

And Dawnbreaker Zayne is mercy killing people who want to die

And both are obsessed/disturbed with each other across space and time

Really has me fucked up in a lot of ways and I'm not okay about any of this

[voidsylus]

sylus is my endgame

sometimes it shocks me how all it took was sylus leaks on my fyp in tiktok to land me in this rabbit hole of my devotion to sylus

sylus has my entire heart, no matter how many Li infold plans to make, he will always be my endgame, my beloved, my soulmate, my dragon

infold or really sylus production team really cooked when crafting him—his unyielding loyalty, deeply emotional, vulnerable side that he never hides from us.

you can feel the weight of his choices in our current timeline that connects to our dragon days past from beyond cloudfall (his myth). how he always makes efforts to make up for the lost time since it was us who cursed him to live forever and be tied to us [we are so real for that]

sylus worships the ground that we walk on. he’s always there to encourage us to think of ourselves, speak our mind without being in fear, be comfortable and confident in our own skin and never shames us. we don’t have to be the cute delicate flower (there’s nothing wrong with that) but it’s nice that we can be our flirty seductive self around him and honestly vice versa. we are each others safe haven

he’s is the kind of man who sacrifices without hesitation, loves without boundaries, and protect us without question even at the multiple cost of his life [as evident in all of his cards but particularly in searing touch and our dragon slaying arc event].

he’s not just a love interest, he’s the love interest, a man irreplaceable, unforgettable and lovable

sylus is the odyssey to my penelope, i’ll gladly wait an eternity if it means having him

[xinyuehui]

# RADIANT BRILLIANCE

[solifloris]

約束する生きてても死んでても二度と離さない。

I promise—for as long as I'm alive, and even if I die... I will never let you go, ever again.

aka, another attempt at explaining the nuance in this dialogue that made me cry (it did 😭 it really did 😭)

im saying a disclaimer again that im not a native speaker, i really just study japanese sometimes 😭 so like. again. this is based off of the knowledge i do have, but by no means is it complete knowledge either? SO !!! REALLY if anyone out there esp native speakers see something wrong please correct me 🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

BUT this statement i feel just really has A LOT OF WEIGHT????

preface; the translation to english again has nothing wrong with it! for reference, "then it's a promise—in life, or in death, we will never be apart." <- which, you can see, is fine on its own!!!!!!!! it already hits really hard!!!!!

but it kinda hits different kind of hard in japanese, bc there's just a tiny bit of nuance that means something more than how we'd read it in english.

to note:

"ても" (temo) — a conditional indicator, used to imply that certain things will stay the same regardless of the given condition. i.e.; "even when (condition happens), still, (action/situation that remains the same)". in this sentence, it's used with the verbs for "to live" and "to die": "ikitetemo" and "shindetemo" respectively. so it forms "even if (i) live" and "even if (i) die", therefore stating "to live" and "to die" as the conditions.

BUT. because "temo" means that something stays constant despite the given conditions... if living and dying are the conditions, then what stays constant? 二度と離さない。(nidoto hanasanai).

specifically;

二度と (nidoto) — for context "nido" literally means "twice" (二 <- i believe is the chinese character for 'two', and is also japanese for 'two' (ni)!!!), and can generally be taken as like,,, "again" or "for the second time". but "nidoto" as a word is always accompanied by a negative form of a verb, so it ends up meaning things like "(verb) will not happen again" or more succinctly, "never again" or "from hereon out, never again".

離さない (hanasanai) — from "hanasu" meaning "let go/release", but negative form because of "nai". effectively this means "to not let go"!

in other words....

二度と離さない。(nidoto hanasanai) — following "(not doing a verb) again"... so, "to not let go again". in other words, "(i) will never let you go ever again." there's a sense of finality in the phrase, but also two things— (1) it's implied that it has already happened once before, and (2) there's a conviction that despite that, it won't happen a second time.

under the conditions of living and dying—whether i'm alive or whether i'm dead—what remains the same is that i will never let you go ever again.

or;

I promise—for as long as I'm alive, and even if I die... I will never let you go, ever again.

you kinda see why it hits hard, right? 😭

it's a more active, action-oriented statement on caleb's part. he's the one saying—and this is before he kisses her—i don't care, the universe can do all the shit it wants but i will never let you go.

he's promising her what he will do. that maybe it's happened before, but this time things are different. because he's going to act.

he's not going to let her go. not anymore. not ever, ever again.

it is a very constant fact, something that will remain, a promise that will remain, whether caleb is alive or not.

so it kinda feels like it has a little more weight in its nuance than "we will never be apart", at least, that's what i think...

ahfjsjf the dialogues caleb has in japanese are so eloquently worded somehow 😭

[rafayelsbelovedbride]

I apologize for the person I'll become once I get this hair and pose (゜ー゜)(。_。)