#l&ds fanfiction

[remireee]

Bliss

/blɪs/ noun perfect happiness; great joy.

˚ʚ zayne x gn! reader

it turned out a little longer than I had imagined but still kinda cute, happy christmas everyone <3

Zayne dressing up as a snowman one time on Christmas Day to surprise the kids staying at the hospital—playing 'santa' and giving them gifts.

The hospital loving it so much that they made it an annual thing with its own little session where in the lobby of the hospital, Zayne would be set up alongside standees and decoration; where kids get to speak of their wishes and play with him.

The festive cheer and laughter slowly dies as evening nears. Zayne, underneath all that cushioned fluff, let out an almost silent sigh; bur just as he was about to take off the head of his costume a familiar voice reaches his ears.

"Mr. Snowman, I liked to share a wish too... is that okay?"

A soft smile spreads on his lips as he lowers his nub-like hands. He nods.

"There's this person... who I like very very much; who spent his whole day today, making other people happy, and neglecting himself. I wish... to make him happy, just as much as he makes me... do you know what can make him happy, Mr. Snowman?"

Rustle, rustle.

Smooth nub hands gently pry the large, round head off of its even rounder body, revealing a Zayne; slightly out of breath, face shimmering underneath the hospital's fluorescent lights.

"...I think I don't..." He gestures you closer, nudging a nubby hand your way to hold in your own.

"...because... just being by your side... makes him the happiest man alive..."

Warmth lips softly presses against yours, savouring the faint sweetness of candy-cane...

[cherimoyatea]

Heyyy, can I request an ff where Sylus and Mc are having their intimate moment but they forgot to close the door so Luke and Kieran accidentally saw them?

Ahhh a request! Hi Annonie!

Thank you so much for trusting me with your request! I actually never saw that coming, so I'm kind of both nervous and excited at the same time!

Life has been busy recently and I didn't have much time to write but your request was spinning in the back of my head! And this was so much fun to write!

I changed my style for a more comedic route this time and kept things lighthearted, hope that's okay!

Love, Cheri 🍒

❧ Sylus - Private Surprise

Pairing: Sylus x You Word Count: 826 Tags: established relationship, comedy, suggestive content (kissing, making out, no smut tho), luke and kieran being adorkable

It's Friday night, and you have eagerly accepted your boyfriend's invitation to spend the weekend at his villa in the N109 Zone.

After a long, challenging week, the chance to spend a few days with him couldn't have come at a better time, and your heart fluttered when he picked you up to have dinner together before driving you both back to his place.

You're standing by the sideboard in his living room, about to pour yourself a drink, when Sylus suddenly appears behind you on silent toes, putting his hands on your hips.

''Mmm, I missed you, Kitten…''

He whispers in your ear, grazing it with the tip of his nose.

Slowly, the silver-haired man moves his head down your neck, gently placing soft kisses there. His touch on your skin sends a tingle through your body, and you can't help but close your eyes and tilt your neck, giving him more space as he moves down to your shoulder.

''S-Sylus… Luke and Kieran will be here anytime soon.''

You stutter nervously while his hands move to the hem of your shirt, slowly sliding beneath the fabric to find the soft skin of your stomach, a smirk forming on his lips. ''Don't worry about the twins, Sweetie. I've sent them off to pick something up for me—they'll be busy for a while.''

Even though your pulse is racing with excitement, you set your glass back on the sideboard and turn around with a teasing smile, crossing your arms to appear nonchalant. ''Oh! So this is the surprise you mentioned earlier? I see…''

''No Kitten…'' Sylus replies with a smug grin, unfazed by your cheeky attitude. Even though you are pretending to be indifferent, your flushed face gives you away. With one swift move, he lifts your hips and places you on the sideboard, stepping between your thighs as he spreads them with his strong hands. ''...the surprise is yet to come.''

The red-eyed man leans closer, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss before hungerily sliding his tongue out, inviting himself into your mouth. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you willingly let him in and wrap your arms around his neck, returning his kiss passionatly.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you don't hear the front door being opened and steps echoing in the hallway, coming closer…

''Boss, the address turned out to be wrong. We-''

You both startle and your heads swivel toward the voice when the door swings open and Luke and Kieran enter the living room, suddenly freezing in their movements as their eyes meet you and Sylus.

Obviously caught in a very intimate moment.

''O-Oh shit!! Boss?! MC??'' Kieran squeaks, while Luke throws his hands over his mask in an attempt to cover his eyes. Shrill screams echo through the huge villa, and Sylus raises an irritated eyebrow, unsure who's louder—the twins or you!

Panicked, the young men try to escape the awkward situation by running off, but Kieran stumbles over a pouf, grabs Luke's arm, and causes both of them to trip and fall to the floor instead.

''Waaah, my eyes, my eeeyes!'' Luke whines, rubbing his hands frantically on his mask, while Kieran tries to gather himself from the floor, still paralyzed by embarrassment.

The twins feel like they just walked into their parents!

''Argh, enough now!'' Sylus snarls and pulls away from you, giving you space to quickly jump off the sideboard and hide behind his large form so you can fix your disheveled state. With a single motion of his hand, the twins are swiftly thrown out of the living room, the door slamming shut behind them with a loud bang.

''N-Noo…!'' You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, feeling the heat flood your cheeks.

Why didn't you lock the damn door?

''I'll never be able to face them again!'' You whine, wishing the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

Sylus lets out an amused huff and gently grips your wrists, pulling it away from your flushed face to look at you. ''I feel like the twins aren't any better, Kitten.''

The next morning, the twins are nowhere to be seen when you and Sylus have breakfast in the dining room. And even for the rest of your stay, there is no sign of them, anywhere.

Once you're back home, you find a small gift basket on your doorstep, filled with your favorite sweets, flowers, and plushies. As you approach, you catch a glimpse of two shadows hiding around the corner of your stairway, watching you closely from afar.

Pretending you didn't see them, you pick up the basket, fish for the note inside, and chuckle as you read it silently:

''Sorry MC! We won't tell anyone! Promise!

xoxo, Luke and Kieran

p.s.: Luke has serious questions about the 'sideboard moment' but don't worry, he's too embarrassed to ask.

p.p.s.: Next time, maybe a 'Do Not Disturb' sign?"

Thank you for reading!

Cheri 🍒

[lunaekalenda]

warnings!: a bit drunk sylus, so mentions of alcohol and consume of it

your hometown seems prettier than ever with sylus walking by your side, with your hand entwined with his, as his voice hums some sweet song while you approach your old house's main entrance. the tall man smiles at you, his red eyes shining tenderly, as he knocks on the door.

all your memories - your childhood, the smell of food, the paintings hanging on the walls - hit you as soon as the door opens. sylus introduces himself to them, to your family, to those tied to you by blood and those that became part of it. he patiently hears the elder's talk about their young days, they way they embarrass you with stories of when you were younger, the way they compliment him and how he looks at you with a playful grin. he kneels to be able to talk with the younger ones, the ones that tell him he looks like a prince, whom ask for a game after lunch. sylus - your present and your future, the man that promised to protect you, the one you want to be with for the rest of your life - and them - your past, the ones that made you became who you are now, who shaped you, who forged your virtues and defects. - merge so well, as if all the pieces that took so long to repair inside of you were finally glued by the sound of their shared laughter.

lunch happens without any incident, apart from the continuous questions to a very confident sylus, and suddenly it's already time for the after lunch. bottles and bottles of exquisite local liquor and other alcohols run through the table while the kids play in the background. even when your man has a really strong alcohol tolerance, you fear maybe they're giving him too many things to try.

"sylus, maybe... that's enough." you see how the next shot -this time, pomace cream- slides into his mouth, with a drop running down his lip, that he's quick to catch with his tongue. he gives you a quick kiss, leaving a sweet flavor on them.

"i'm alright, love. it would be rude to refuse." but their tolerance outpaces your boyfriend's. green liquors, coffee ones, strawberry creams... he tries at least a shot of all of them, and even when he's being polite and rejecting most of the glasses, your family keeps insisting on the most famous ones. the elders pat his shoulders and you stand up quickly, taking your boyfriend's arm and walking towards the upper flat with a poor excuse. "please, forgive us. we're very tired of the trip, and we would like to rest. we'll be in my old room."

going upstairs, sylus walks by your side, tangling his arm on your waist and following you closely. as soon as you arrive, you see the old couch you used to spend so many afternoons in, reading a book, playing a game or watching a show. before being able to arrive to your old room, sylus turns around and, with a smile, he kisses the tip of your nose. seeing this version of him - so blushed, so soft, so tipsy.- makes your heart flutter.

"you're so drunk, sylus. i knew i shouldn't have let you stay for the afterlunch." he laughs and lets all his tall body fall in your couch, way too small for his body. he seems uncomfortable, so you guide him to lie properly. "here. your feet. now your knees, bend them." his movements mimic your orders, and his eyes are focused on you with attention.

"and now?" he asks. his voice sounds sleepy, but he's incredibly attentive to you.

"your hands under your head." he does so, and you kneel near him, his face close to yours. he hums.

"you could just buy a bigger couch." he whispers, glancing at his knees. "you can't fit here with me if my knees are not straight." his faces turns into a pout, before looking back at you. his red, sleepy eyes in contrast with his white, wild hair. he smiles sweetly. "but don't worry, love." he stretches his body, letting his feet hang from the couch, and resting his back against the cushions. "i can sleep with my feet outside the couch, but not without you." his hand moves to your cheek, caressing it, the very most sincere gaze you've seen from him looking directly at you. so full of love, of affection and happiness; of desire, of willing, of sweetness, of devotion. all the feelings he always tries to demonstrate to you, to tell you, to shout to everyone; caged in such a passional red-shade eyes.

his hand caresses your cheek, your jaw, your neck. it follows the pace of the same song he has been humming all day, some local tune he heard on the radio on your drive here. it's slow, pleasant, subtle; and his thick voice, roughened by sleep and alcohol, welcomes you to hear more of it. his hand quickly reaches your arm, pulling you sweetly towards the couch, making room for you in front of his body, facing him. his chest rises and falls with each quiet breath, and your bodies are too close. he sighs.

"are you alright, love? comfortable?" you nod a couple times against his collarbone. he smiles, even when you can't see him. you silently thank fate for bringing him into your life, for the smell of his cologne that feels like being home, for the warmth of his hands on your lower back, for the way you tangle your legs between his.

"forget the bigger couch, i think we should get one this size for our home." his sudden words make you laugh, quickly passing in on to him. his embrace becomes stronger and you close your eyes, face buried on his chest, feeling the laughs and the chats of the floor below. you smile.

maybe he's all you've been searching for.

"sylus." you fear he's asleep, but his low "hm?" reaches your ears.

"i love you."

the room falls silent for what seems to be hours, but you feel how his grip tighten, his body pressing even closer to yours as he takes a deep breath.

"i love you. i love you so much, so much more"

[kykyonthemoon]

Hello! May I request a Caleb fanfic (or for all LnD guys if you would like to), where he accidentally raised his voice towards the reader. The reason might be because he was worried for the reader, or other reason you would like to write.

Maybe for context the reader is a strong person but is sensitive when someone raise their voice at them.

If not it's ok, thank you so much!!

Dear Anon-san,

Thank you so much for requesting. I also apologize that I let you wait for some times.

Here's your request. I hope you have a wonderful day, and that we're getting Caleb as a new ML very soon!

His Special Assistance Force

You went to aid Caleb during an attack on Skyhaven, yet he accidentally raised his voice at you.

ಇ.Caleb x F!Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, kiss and make up, really short fic, established relationship.

ಇ.Word count: 808w

ಇ.Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (closed for the time being)

“Did you just yell at me?”

Your hands were clenched into fists as you glanced up at Caleb.

“You yelled at me just now!”

Caleb’s expression, which had been angry just now, softened a little. You took a step back just as he was ready to speak.

You could not stand it when he raised his voice at you.

Long story short, you rushed to find him after learning that Skyhaven had recently been the scene of a significant attack. You realized, of course, that doing so would put you in danger. You were not even assigned there. But you switched places with Tara in order to be transported to Skyhaven, to be close to him.

Yet when you found Caleb in the ruins of the battlefield, he just pushed you away and shouted:

“LEAVE!”

That brought you such uneasy feelings.

“Why are you here? Linkon confirmed to deploy a support team. You… This isn’t your team’s mission, as I've known."

You could see why Caleb reacted that way the moment he saw you in the middle of the chaos. He did not want you there because he was concerned for you. Even so, he did not have to raise his voice.

“I requested to be transferred here. You have no right to send me back!” You tried to suppress the emotions in your heart. You could handle the Wanderers in a flash without fear, but every time someone raised their voice at you, yet you felt extremely upset each time someone yelled at you. Particularly if it was Caleb. 

Caleb gazed at you for a moment. Helpless. He had a cut from shattered glass on his forehead. Blood was all over his arms and neck. No Wanderer remained in this place, although it was not entirely secure. He drew your hand to conceal both of you behind a recently deserted building, his voice was frantic:

“What were you thinking to request to be here? If it’s because of me… To be honest, I don't feel much safer with you around. Don't let your feelings guide your decisions!"

His voice was low, but furious nonetheless. The hand around your wrist was trembling. Blood from the Wanderers and very likely his own was on Caleb's uniform. The entire city was in chaos. The last thing Caleb wanted was to see you here.

But if you were a coward, you would not have switched missions with Tara and come here. You inhaled deeply. The smoke and the smell of blood rushed straight to your nose. You said to Caleb:

“I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere! You must accept it no matter what! I’m not a child anymore, so you don't have to bear the responsibility of protecting me. I want to fight by your side too!”

With that said, you pushed Caleb aside and walked out.

You then took hold of Caleb's arm.

After that, you grabbed Caleb’s arm.

“It's my duty to take the injured to a safe area. You are included! This time, you have to let me help you!”

Caleb could not stop you. He himself was hurt. All he could do was obey you and allow you to escort him out of the danger area.

By nightfall, things had calmed down in Skyhaven. You were sitting in Caleb's place watching the news after a shower. A moment later, he appeared, dressed neatly and with bandages on his wounds. He collapsed on the sofa beside you.

“Are you going to keep your hair damp? You truly have no idea how to take care of yourself first."

Caleb grumbled, but he began drying your hair after removing the towel from around your neck. You just glared at him without saying anything.

"Are you still upset with me, pip-squeak?" Caleb inquired. He drew you in by sliding his hand behind your neck. "I apologize for shouting at you."

You crossed your arms. “Is that all?”

Caleb gave a quiet smile. “I’m sorry for taking your decision lightly,” he replied. “"All I wanted was for you to be safe, but I overlooked something. My pip-squeak has turned into an outstanding Hunter. You’re my special assistance force. Thank you, for coming to my side.”

You gently touched the wound on Caleb's forehead. He wouldn't have had such a difficult time if you had arrived a bit sooner.You were relieved that everything was alright and that you and Caleb could understand each other more.

"But I won't accept an apology if it's just words." You feigned a gloomy expression. "Your one and only special assistance force is a little hungry now."

Caleb laughed, kissed the tip of your nose lightly, then pulled you into his arms.

"To make up for it, I'm going to prepare a supper that includes all of your favorite dishes. How does that sound, pip-squeak?"

Banner made from screenshot by LittleBunnyCC.

[lunaesmasterlist]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　dryads: love & deepspace　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧ Headcanons ✧ Quick Thoughts

𐦍 Concubine reader? (Thought)

✧ Fics ✧ Drabbles

𐦍 I would treat you better (Sylus)

𐦍 A guy with a gun outside the office!! (Sylus)

𐦍 A little tipsy Sylus

✧ Smut ✧ MDNI under the cut

𐦍 The Heir's Favorite

part one

part two

part three

[loveanddeepthroat]

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts. 

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—” 

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself. 

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. 

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence. 

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.” 

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?” 

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️

[sushiyuzu]

emotional support

warning: fluff + tension — your boobs become soft!sylus’ emotional support 🙈 [ x fem!reader ]

- second acc: @blushpawss

you were relaxing on the bed after a long day, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when you heard the door creak open. without looking, you knew it was sylus. you could tell by the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his steps, the aura he carried everywhere he went.

“hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up at him with a small smile. “everything okay?”

he didn’t respond right away. instead, he just stood at the edge of the bed, his usual stoic expression fixed on his face. crimson eyes locked on you, but there was something softer in them, something vulnerable he rarely showed.

before you could ask again, he moved. in one swift motion, he climbed onto the bed, gently pushing you back until you were lying down. his movements were deliberate, yet there was no urgency—just a quiet need.

“sylus?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of confusion as he positioned himself on top of you, his head resting squarely between your boobs.

“don’t,” he murmured against your chest, his voice slightly muffled by your shirt. “just... let me.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how soft his voice sounded. usually, sylus was the picture of control, always so serious and composed. but right now, he was melting into you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if you were his lifeline.

“okay,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. “you wanna talk about it?”

he shook his head, his face completely buried in your chest now. “no. just need this,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “need you.”

you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was being. despite his tough exterior, sylus always had this soft, clingy side when it came to you. it was a side he didn’t show to anyone else, a side he only let out when he felt safe in your presence.

“rough day?” you asked, your fingers automatically threading through his silver hair, stroking it gently.

“you have no idea,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your chest. “the meetings, the arguments, the constant surveillance... it’s exhausting.”

you chuckled softly. “and i’m your emotional support pillow now?”

“more like emotional support boobs,” he mumbled, pressing his face even deeper between your breasts, his voice filled with that rare, teasing warmth he only used with you. “they’re soft... and they’re mine.”

“oh, they’re yours, huh?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“absolutely, kitten,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your skin as he spoke. “this is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest at his words, your hands continuing their gentle path through his hair. “well, if it helps, you can stay like this as long as you need.”

he didn’t reply right away, but the way his arms tightened around you spoke volumes. sylus was never the type to openly ask for affection, but you could always tell when he needed it. and when he did, he clung to you like this, as if you were his anchor in a world that constantly demanded his strength.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered after a long moment, his voice low, almost vulnerable.

you frowned, lightly tugging at his hair to get his attention. “hey, don’t say that.”

he finally lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at you with those intense crimson eyes. there was a flicker of something raw in them, something he rarely let anyone see. “i’m serious,” he said quietly. “you’re too good to me. i don’t know how you put up with me.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart ached a little at how sincere he sounded. “because i love you, you idiot,” you said, smiling softly as you cupped his cheek. “and you’re not half as bad as you think.”

his gaze softened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he was memorizing your face. then, without warning, he dropped his head back down, once again burying his face between your boobs.

“whatever,” he muttered, his voice muffled again. “i’m staying here forever.”

you laughed, your chest shaking as you tried to wiggle beneath him. “sylus, you’re heavy!”

“deal with it,” he grumbled, nuzzling further into you. “this is my safe space now.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, though you were smiling the whole time. “you’re ridiculous.”

he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his lips curve into a small smile against your skin. for a man who always had to be serious and strong in front of others, sylus was the clingiest, neediest person when he was with you. and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know,” you said after a moment, “if anyone else saw you like this, they’d never believe it. mr. serious, always-in-control sylus, reduced to a cuddle bug.”

he made a low sound of protest, tightening his hold on you. “don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he mumbled. “this is just for you.”

your heart melted at that. despite all his tough talk, sylus had such a soft spot for you. you were the one person who could break through his walls, the one he trusted with his vulnerable side.

“i’m glad it’s just for me,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “i love this side of you.”

he didn’t say anything, but you felt his fingers gently trace the curve of your waist, his touch light and reverent. for a while, you both just lay there in comfortable silence, his body completely relaxed on top of yours, his face still nestled securely in your chest.

“don’t ever let me go,” he whispered after a long while, his voice soft, almost sleepy.

“never,” you promised, your hands still stroking his hair.

he sighed in contentment, his breathing slowing as he settled more comfortably against you. “good,” he muttered, his voice drowsy now. “i’ll always need you.”

you smiled, feeling a warm glow of happiness spread through you. “and i’ll always be here.”

he nuzzled you one last time before drifting off, completely relaxed and at peace in your arms. and as you held him close, you realized just how much you loved this man—the serious, strong protector everyone else saw, and the soft, affectionate, clingy sylus that only you knew.

[villainbait]

Exclusive Favors

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: PG-13 Tags: who did this to you, hurt, comfort, hurt/comfort, injury, implied violence, brief violence mentions, angst, canon sylus behavior, blood mentions, kissing if you squint Summary: You barely survived a night on your own in the N109 Zone without the watchful gaze of certain Onychinus leader, but at what cost? Word Count: 1.5k

The dull sound of your door closing was like the snap of a final curtain call falling into place and you slumped against it, relieved to be safely in your own apartment. You had survived a night in the N109 Zone on your own, but it had been a near miss. One you wouldn’t be repeating, especially since the intel you wanted had been a bust, anyway. 

You touched your side, your breathing uneven, and you wince. You definitely have a cracked rib. You try to take a deep breath and pain radiates from your chest into your stomach, making you a little nauseous. Okay, maybe two.

You were trying to psych yourself up to move and trudge into your apartment to give yourself much needed medical attention when the reverberating shock of someone's forceful knock bounced you against your door-frame. You consider not answering the insistent caller on the other side, but a muffled, familiar baritone floats through the door.

"Open the door, sweetie."

A sigh left your lips at the demand and you tried to stifle the pathetic, painful whimper that your exasperation cost you. Of all the people on the other side of that door, Sylus was the most unexpected. Or maybe not, considering he boasted that he knew everything that went on in his territory. Maybe that’s why he was here and if it was, he wouldn’t leave until his curiosity was satisfied.

The door cracks open and you stare up at him through the hole you made, reluctant to allow him entrance and to partially block his view of the damage those thugs had caused when they mugged you in the alleyway earlier tonight. However, Sylus’s easy smile is nowhere to be found and the frown lines on his forehead are the deepest you've ever seen them. His large hand wraps around the door-frame so you can’t close it again and he pushes gently against it, but you don’t budge. 

"Who did this to you?" His tone is dangerously low.

You ignore his question, instead poking your head out to look down the deserted hallway of your apartment building. "Why are you here? It's dangerous." It was risky for Sylus to wander around Linkon City normally, even if he claimed many people didn't know what he actually looked like. However, the Hunter’s Association did and your building was crawling with employees at all hours of the day and night.

"You didn't answer your phone, so I got worried."

Oh right, you had forgotten they had taken that too. You sighed again, the pain of having to replace everything beginning to give you a headache. That key charm Zayne had given you for your birthday was perhaps the worst thing to have lost, maybe more than the phone itself.

"Let me in, kitten." Sylus’s voice is gently cajoling and you concede because you're too tired to argue with him tonight. So you open the door and  try to act normal, but your voice is far too lighthearted for how heavy your legs feel as you trudge into the apartment. 

“You know, if you keep frowning like that you’ll get wrinkles and people really will think you’re an old man.” 

He follows you in with a small chuckle, his eyes bouncing around the room as if the perpetrators could be hiding in the shadows. When you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down to tend to your injuries, Sylus was suddenly there, kneeling in front of you. His hands push yours out of the way and he silently takes over the job of nurse, and you think about fighting him as you watch him roll up his shirtsleeves but realize you were just too exhausted to care. 

“What happened?” He asks eventually and you realize you will have to tell him something. Lying won’t work, he’ll find out if he didn’t already know. 

“What often happens when you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time in the N109 Zone, Sylus.” You offer with a single shrug, doing your best to sit still while he cleans the wound on your arm. “You know that better than me.” 

“Were you wearing–” he was referring to the brooch that signified your status as protected. 

“They took that too.” His hands stilled on the bandage he was applying on your forearm. “Did they, now?” he murmured silkily and you saw a muscle in his jaw tick, though his expression was partially obscured by his unruly hair. “After all that trouble I went through, too.” You tried to make a joke to ease the tension which earned you a soft amused twitch of Sylus’s lips. He was too angry to truly smile and you could feel it radiating off of him in waves. Despite that, his hands were painstakingly gentle as he touched what was clearly a blossoming bruise around your wrist. Sylus’s tender touch lingers on your injuries and he checks each one with a thoroughness that feels as if he’s memorizing exactly where you were hurt. 

He orders some of your favorite food, helps you get cleaned up, and tucks you into your bed. He points to the notepad you kept by your bedside table that you sometimes scribble notes on when you took calls. “Make me a list of what they looked like, and then go to bed. I’ll take care of the rest.” Before you could protest, he left the room abruptly. You picked up the notepad and stared at the print of the cute little animals dancing around the top. You’d bought it on a whim after seeing how cute it looked in a stationary shop window near one of your mission sites. It seemed too obscene to write what would virtually be a hit list on such charming paper. 

Instead, you scribble all of the reasons you’re grateful for today. Right at the top was that you had survived all on your own in the N109 Zone and you were able to see the infamous Onychinus leader kneeling at your feet. The list grew as you included the tasty food you ate earlier, and the glimpse of a suspiciously familiar crow you saw on your way into work this morning. The page was halfway filled when the pain medication Sylus had convinced you to take started to kick in and you felt your eyelids drooping. 

Drowsily, you snuggle down underneath your covers and clutch the plushie Sylus and you had won at the arcade last weekend. When you hear the distant muffled click of your door opening, you try to rouse yourself but you felt so warm and your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t manage it. That doesn’t stop you from trying until a large hand gently smoothed back your mussed hair, and the sensation of soft knuckles trace the curve of your cheek. “It’s just me,” the familiar voice murmured and you tried to speak but he shushed you. “Sleep, kitten.” 

You swear you felt the ghost of his lips on yours before he was gone, but maybe it was just part of the hazy dream you had of crows, violence, and enchanting sanguine eyes. 

Sylus returns to the N109 Zone and finds himself staring at the “list,” a bemused smile on his face. He shakes his head and tucks the cutesy page into his pocket. You were far too adorable and it made what he was about to do that much more satisfying, sauntering into the abandoned warehouse where your phone had last pinged; deceptively calm. The screams and stench of death shuddered throughout the N109 Zone tonight, serving as a violent and bloody reminder to all that no one should dare to touch what was his lest they face the consequences. 

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, your fingers fumble for your buzzing phone and land on the familiar outline of the brooch, both in their normal places as if yesterday was just a bad dream. Through your sleepy daze, you realize your other hand is occupied–as is your bed. Turning, you’re surprised to find Sylus is fast asleep next to you, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There’s deep circles under his eyes, but his normally furrowed brow is smoothed out in sleep. With a sleepy smile, you curl back up to let him rest a little while longer, tucking your joined hands against your chest, cuddling his arm.

You both doze off together, and you’ve never felt so safe.

[alwaysthefool]

Your turn to be a cat (x Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier)

Warnings: Suggestive, might have minor spoilers for cat companion memories, kinda cringe ngl

Tags: Fluff (literally), MC/Reader, no gendered pronouns for you

Synopsis: This time, you’re the one who gets a cat tail and a second set of ears.

Zayne

“When you said medical emergency, this isn’t what I had in mind.” Zayne looked at your ears, a first aid kid in his hand. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since you texted him, telling him it was something dire and you couldn’t go to the hospital, and there he was, at your door, stifling a smile.

“Don’t laugh!” You scolded him, turning red, the tail you tried to hide inside your hoodie peeking out. You grabbed it immediately, forcing it back in. You pulled him inside, shutting the door to your apartment.

“Don’t fold your tail, it’ll be bad for your back.” Zayne spoke, taking off his shoes and keeping the first aid kit near the entrance. “And besides, it’s very cute.”

The tail made its way back out, and listening to your doctor’s advice, you let it be. “Help me out my hoodie.” You demanded, and Zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, carefully helping you out your hoodie so as to not bother your sensitive ears, one of his hands holding down your t-shirt from riding up.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch, your tail swaying against its will. Zayne made his way next to you, unable to stop himself from touching it. “It’s really soft.” He observed, his large hand stroking it lightly.

“Quit playing around!” You whined, not really wanting him to stop, but being the gentleman he was, he did, not taking revenge for how you treated him when he was a cat. “How do I make it go away?”

“Can I have a closer look at your tail?” Zayne asked, and you hissed, earning a laugh out of him. “Alright, I won’t look, but you shouldn’t be shy around your doctor, especially when you’re the one who called me here.”

“You’re not just my doctor…” You looked up at him a little hopefully, tail swaying again.

Zayne smiled. “You’re right, I suppose I’m your vet now.”

You pouted, walking away from him in feline elegance, taking your place on the adjacent arm chair, lying on it with your tail in the air. “How did you feel when you were a cat?”

“Needy.” Zayne admitted, after some thought.

Like a cat, you wanted something, but you were too proud to admit it. “Then…” You sat up on the chair, gazing at him, tail swaying behind you. “How do you, how do you… how do you think I must be feeling right now?” You shied away immediately, cat ears perking up.

Zayne would take care of you, no matter what, so before you knew it, you were on his lap, his large hands stroking your ears. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

You purred, nuzzling on his chest, holding on to him tightly, as his hands worked on your ears and tail. “You knew.”

“Maybe.” Zayne spoke into your ear. Your heightened senses could listen to his racing heart, and his gushing blood. “But I really wanted to hear you ask.”

Rafayel

Honestly, he’d be EMPATHETHIC loool

You were supposed to accompany him for an event, but as you put on your dress, you felt cold from behind. Looking in the mirror, you saw a tail pulling your dress up, and a pair of ears on your head. You yelped, turning the lights off, and hiding in a corner. This couldn’t be happening.

“Cutie, what was that?” Rafayel called from outside the door. You had the misfortune of being at his house when it happened too. You quietly opened the window, to make it seem like maybe you ran away. You would, too, but you couldn’t be seen in public like that.

“I’m coming in!” Rafayel called upon hearing the sound of the window opening. You quietly hid under his bed.

Rafayel was already in his suit and tie, giving off a certain scent which made him seem oddly delectable.

“Where did you go…” He mumbled, looking at the open window. You could only see his feet now, so you couldn’t tell what he was doing, until your phone buzzed. You scrambled to turn it silent, when Rafayel crouched down, peeking under the bed.

Before you knew it, you scratched him with a hiss.

“Ow!” He stood back up, and you could smell his blood. You didn’t expect yourself to do that, or for the scratch to draw blood.

You crawled out, standing up to look at his hand. “I’m so sorry!” As you realised what you did, you took your hands away from his wounded hand, trying to hide your tail.

“I, uh…” You couldn’t meet Rafayel’s eyes, scared of what he was thinking.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Rafayel sighed. “I thought a cat sneaked in.”

He saw your tail lifting up your dress, and wrapped his coat around your waist. You still turned away from him, looking guilty. “Cutie, look at me.” He called gently. “It was just a scratch, and you didn’t mean it.”

You looked up at him, and his face was gentle, nothing like you expected. “Why did you hide from me?” He asked, his hands on your cheeks.

“I thought you’d be disgusted of me. I’m a cat, after all.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He coaxed you, pulling you into a hug. “I could never be disgusted by you. I told you before, right? I’d love you even if you were a worm.”

You let out a laugh, hugging him back, pulling him down on the bed behind you. He kept holding you, surprised by the sudden affection. “And you’re also the only cute cat in the world.”

Sylus

SUGGESTIVE

This was bad. Sylus would never let you live it down, but you also had no choice but to tell him. Your first thought after being turned into half a cat was volunteering at the cat café, so you’d get to spend time around the kitties, but that isn’t what the OTTO had in mind when giving you that outfit. Now you needed someone to help you out there.

“Are you done?” The OTTO asked, its tone irritated.

You remained dead silent, texting Sylus to ‘smash that devilish robot into pieces’.

You heard commotion outside, then some banging, thinking maybe, finally, Sylus had arrived, leaning your ear against the door.

“Loving the new look, sweetie.” Sylus was somehow behind you, hand already on your tail. You immediately turned around to see him gaze fondly at you, who was sat leaning against the door. “Guess you’ve been affected by the cat evol too.”

You looked away from his strong gaze, suddenly very aware of what OTTO made you wear. A short maid dress, with an opening at the back for your tail, and chiffon gloves with a cat paw stitched on them. Before you could change back, the sinister robot stole your clothes.

“I’m pleased you decided to call me in such a situation.”

“Shut up…” You mumbled.

“That’s no way to speak to the person who saved you, kitten.” This time, that word held a whole new meaning.

“I’m… sorry.” You forced, ears drooping down. You looked up at him with a pout, and he pet you behind the ears. You rubbed your head against his head, until you realised what you were doing, forcing yourself to stop. You cleared your throat.

“That’s rare coming from you.” He teased, fingers dancing around your jaw. There was a certain scent to them, so you bit him, though not hard enough to draw blood. Sylus winced, pulling back. “There’s the kitten I know.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes like I asked?”

Sylus hummed in response, not really focusing on anything other than playing with your hair and ears, hands trickling down to where your tail was, pulling at the ribbons of the dress, acting more like a cat than you. You leaned in to him, and he placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

Understanding where this was going, you reluctantly held his arm. “Mm, let’s not, I’m super hairy right now.” You said, referring to all the cat fuzz.

“That’s fine.” Sylus whispered into your ear. “I prefer it like that.”

Xavier

“Ugh…” You groaned, still sleepy. You had work pending, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep your eyes open despite having a lot of sleep and a cup of coffee, Knowing Xavier was often in the same predicament, you went to his floor, hoping he had some insanely potent energy drinks on him.

He opened the door, also groggy, but straightening up when he saw you. “Hey.” You greeted, intending to yawn but letting out a ‘meow’ instead.

“That was strange.” You tried to laugh it off. Xavier let you inside, and you explained that you were uncharacteristically sleepy the whole day.

“How do you manage to stay up?” You were sat on his fuzzy carpet, pulling at it.

Xavier smiled, sitting down next to you. “I think there might be another reason you’re so sleepy today.” He opened his phone’s front camera, facing it towards you.

“W-what’s that?” You cried, hands going towards the ears on your head and tail behind you.

“Cats might need up to 16 hours of sleep a day.” Xavier put his phone down, leaning his elbow on the coffee table, his other hand gently touching your ear. “If you have work, I’ll do it for you.”

“Really?” Your tail moved in excitement.

Xavier nodded, as he went downstairs to get your laptop. You prowled around his house, trying to fall asleep on his bed, then looking in his fridge for something to eat, restless and impatient, irritated that you were unable to fall asleep despite being sleepy. You looked for several spots, but nothing was snug enough.

That was until you saw Xavier typing your mission reports on his laptop. You crawled over to him on all fours, setting your head down on his lap. He gave your head a few scratches, helping you fall asleep.

Despite not being a cat anymore, Xavier couldn’t help feel sleepy seeing you safely under him. Perhaps cats could sense people’s feelings, because you spoke, half asleep “Put that aside Xavi, come cuddle with me.”

Eventually, the work was discarded, and Xavier held you on his couch, legs intertwined, head buried in his chest, his arms around you protectively, pretty dreams and soft feelings warm enough for you to get through whatever your supervisors would have to say.

[bluefunkybeats]

PAPA SYLUS WITH HIS DAUGHTER

SYLUS WAKES UP TO YOU NOT IN BED WITH HIM. With a slight hunched tension on his back and spine, Sylus does a gruff and puff as he adjusts his silk black robe, to take off and come get you back to bed.

He turns to sit up properly on the bed, hands pressed firm on the mattress either side of his body to backstretch and to let his feet meet the floor. Yet funnily enough he places his feet down to be met with the most frigid cold floor (which grants him a distasteful expression); and he can’t feel for his slippers.

He treads to the kitchen with shivering numbness on the soles of his feet, but that irksome bother is quickly forgotten once he actually gets a glimpse of the scene in the kitchen from the doorframe.

Sylus’s face turns from disgruntled to wholesomely entertained to the sight of his little one sat perched sideways on the island stool facing her biggest teddy bear, whom was sporting her papa’s artisan-crafted suede slippers.

His smiley amusement only grows on his face as he meets your equally cheekily amused one, rumbly delighted chuckles fluttering out of him that you meet with your own giggles.

He approaches the pair of you and bows down to be close to eye-level with his little angel’s face.

“Can I have them back, sweetie?”

“Or is teddy’s feet too cold?” you brazenly chime in.

He can only meet your audacious smile with fake, light-hearted frustration (which to you is always a really bad act, since he can’t help snickering and the corners of his mouth turn upward), along with mock groans and crossed arms, all designed to make you laugh.

She’ll be the judge on who’s getting the slippers.

SYLUS WHO FINDS HIS LITTLE PRINCESS ASLEEP ON THE COUCH, limbs branched out comically whilst her stuffed animals stay splayed on the floor, presumably struck down by her little arms and legs (which move like cats on hot bricks when she’s asleep- a kicker for sure).

Papa Sylus begins on bending down and picking up her soft toys and placing them on the sofa with her. As he does, a few get lay down with cotton-filled flabby arms covering their beady eyes and having starfish legs, all in purpose to mimic the sleeping position of your daughter. The others get lined up around her like waiting for her to wake up and watch TV or play with them again (don’t worry- they’re placed a radius far enough so she won’t kick them down again, hopefully.)

Once done with his antics, Sylus turns from his view the of the couch and catches glimpse of you behind the glass sliding-door of the balcony.

Carefully and slowly sliding the door open and closed as to not make too much noise for your sleeping angel, he joins your leaning figure of elbows on the railing, watching the view outside the apartment.

He grabs your waist letting his arm and hand rest across the entirety of it, and kisses the top of your head.

“She’s fast asleep.”

[sunsets-and-crows]

Claws

Thinking about how excited Syus will be when he meets you in his human life, one where he doesn't have claws.

If Sylus’ claws were anything like the talons of other animals, sharp, tough and made from keratin, they’d probably lack the sensitivity of human skin right? Claws are built for strength and precision, not for fine-tuned sensations. In his dragon form: he could touch, sure, but never really feel. Everything would be dulled, fleeting, like wearing gloves or pressing your fingers against glass to touch a hand on the other side. Softness, heat, the delicate texture of skin - it would all be a vague pressure, a constant reminder that he could never hold anything delicate without ruining it.

But now, in his human life, it was as if the gods had handed him salvation wrapped in smooth skin and scarred knuckles. His hands - alive, real - were suddenly made for touch. Where his claws had been brutal precision, his fingers were reverence incarnate. The man is experiencing true touch for the first time, he's suddenly hyperaware of everything. The softness of your cheek? Heavenly. The silkiness of your hair? A revelation. The curve of your body beneath his hands? Enough to make him lose his damn mind., turning him feral.

And let’s not forget - this man would be obsessed with the contrast. Where his claws once tore through flesh and scales, his human hands now worship your body. He’d be almost weeping at how tenderly he can hold you, feeling the pulse beneath your skin, the heat radiating from you. Every little shiver, every sigh, every slight twitch beneath his touch would make his breath catch.

Sylus wouldn’t just touch you - he’d memorise you. Because after a lifetime of dull sensation, feeling you would be a kind of salvation. A reminder that he’s human now. That you’re real. And that, for the first time, he’s capable of experiencing you the way he’s always longed to. Like I'm sure he misses being a dragon right? That's his true form. But now he can touch you so much more intimately.

Sylus couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you - human hands, strong and scarred, yes, but without the claws that once kept him a world away. It was as if the universe were apologising, granting him this form and, with it, the ability to feel you. To touch without hesitation, without fear of breaking something so precious. And gods, you were precious.

When he first brushed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, he nearly lost himself, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears prickling his eyes. His breath stilled in his chest, his throat dry as he traced the curve of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. He marveled at the way his hands could experience you, so different from the sensation in his past life. Your skin gave beneath his touch as though you’d been made of the finest silk, warm and pliant. His hands shook - this creature of power, reduced to something tender, vulnerable. The lump in his throat swelled as he traced the curve of your jaw, every nerve in his body alight with disbelief.

“You’re real,” he murmured, his voice frayed and raw. His crimson eyes wide with something vulnerable. For so long, he had dreamed of holding you without the fear of tearing you apart. And now here you were, soft and impossibly human, letting him touch you. He didn’t have to pull away, didn’t have to fear shredding you apart with an errant motion.

You stared at him, confusion flickering across your features as his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, lingering like he was committing you to memory. There was something in his eyes - softness, longing, love - that didn’t make sense. Not to you.

To Sylus, it was everything. Each motion of his fingers poured out a devotion you couldn’t recognise, couldn’t return. It wasn’t your fault; the memories that should have connected you to him - moments of fire and flight, lifetimes of love and loss - were lost, swallowed up by time or fate.

She doesn’t remember.

The realization tore at him every time you looked at him like this - like he was a stranger. A stranger with hands that shook as he touched you, as though afraid you might slip through his grasp. You were here, now, yet still out of reach. It didn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him.

He traced your face with reverence, his voice low, almost broken. “I’ll remind you,” he whispered, as if making a promise to himself. “Even if it takes a lifetime.”

The first time he braided your hair was seared into his memory with the same intensity as the sun scorching the horizon on the plains. He’d always admired your hair - how it shimmered like liquid in the light - but feeling it slip between his fingers was an entirely new kind of pleasure. It was silk spun into strands, each section gliding so smoothly that he paused often, distracted by the sensation. His large hands, which had once been tipped with razor-sharp talons, now worked with gentle precision, twisting and weaving each section of hair into something beautiful. It shimmered between them, the strands gliding so effortlessly that he forgot what he was doing half the time. His fingers lingered, threading and unthreading, so gentle you might’ve thought him afraid. He whispered things to himself as he worked - praises, almost prayers. Perfect.

But for all those soft touches, Sylus craved more. He had always been a creature of need, a being meant to hoard and devour desire and you were his most dangerous indulgence. And when he finally had you beneath him, bare and trembling, he felt that dangerous edge of hunger blur into a new kind of worship.

His hands explored you like they’d been made for it, each touch deliberate, almost reverent. His thick fingers dragged slowly over the slopes of your body, mapping every dip and curve, every inch of skin that drew a gasp from you. The sensation of your softness giving way to him was intoxicating - a pliant warmth he could lose himself in.

And when he pressed his fingers into you for the first time, he nearly groaned aloud at how you welcomed him. His breath hitched, a groan slipping unbidden from his lips as your body welcomed him. You were wet, silken, warm - a sensation so profound he swore his vision blurred. He flexed his thick fingers, feeling you pulse and cling to him as though you’d been made for this.

“Perfect,” he rasped, voice rough as gravel. He pressed his other palm flat against your hips, holding you still when you squirmed. His crimson gaze burned as he watched the way your body responded, the flush spreading down your chest, the gasps spilling from your lips. “I could do this forever,” he murmured, curling his fingers until he found that spot that had you arching beneath him. “Watch you come apart on my hands alone.”

Each moan and gasp he pulled from you ignited his own desire until he was no better than the humans he used to devour for the same crime. This was humanity, this was what feeling truly was.

His mind spun with the contrast - once, those hands had been weapons, tools for destruction. But now, they coaxed pleasure from you with an ease that made his heart race. It drove him mad, the privilege of it. How you let him hold you, mark you, ruin you - and yet, there you were, looking at him like he’d placed the stars in the sky. Sylus gripped you tighter, palms sliding possessively over your thighs, your hips, the curves that had been haunting him since that first, fateful touch.

In this life, Sylus didn’t need his claws to leave you ruined. He had you, undone and gasping, by the sheer force of his hands alone. He curled his fingers inside you, finding the spot that had you throwing your head back and bucking up to press his fingers deeper inside you. As he drank in the sound of your whimpers and the flush blooming across your chest, Sylus finally understood the truth:

You were his treasure - one he could touch, hold, and break apart as many times as he liked. And gods, he planned to.

➽──────────────────────────────────❥

One day, I might be able to write something about a different LI. Today is not that day. This started as pure horny thoughts about Sylus' hands and now I don't know how to behave.

[cherimoyatea]

The LaDs Men healing your inner child...

...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.

❧ Part III - Zayne - Healing Hearts

Pairing: Zayne x You Synopsis: You pretend to be fine when Zayne is called back to work on his day off. Word count: 901 Tags: workaholic zayne, disappointment, neglect, romance, fluff, comfort Side notes: Wow, are we already at Part III? Zayne's story is actually the reason why I created a mini-series instead of posting all four stories at once. It simply got too long, and I had to rewrite the other stories to match their length. In this part, we address the theme of rejection and neglect, but luckily, we have Zayne to help us realize that our feelings matter. Part I - Xavier ❧ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part IV Sylus

Beep-Beeeep.

A sharp sound cuts through the peaceful moment as you lie on the couch with Zayne. Still exhausted from yesterday's mission, your head rests on his lap, and you're about to fall asleep halfway through the movie while his fingers softly stroke your hair.

He carefully leans forward to reach for his pager on the coffee table while you rub your sleepy eyes. Noticing Zayne's serious expression you slowly sit up next to him. ''What's wrong? An emergency at the hospital?''

Zayne nods as he stares at the pager, reading the message from Akso Hospital. Today was his day off, and he promised to spend it with you. He takes a deep breath and sighs, sliding the pager into his pocket while he shifts his worried gaze to you. He hates himself for asking you this. ''MC, do you mind if we reschedule our movie date?''

You swallow as your heart drops at his words. You saw that coming.

More people are falling ill since the days grow shorter and the nights become colder. Even doctors and nurses aren't spared, which leads to a shortage at the hospital. Zayne had already told you that he was on call, but you had hoped he wouldn't be needed.

''No, it's fine. I think I'm too tired for a movie marathon anyway.'' You reply with a forced smile, even though you feel like crying. You haven't had time for each other in weeks, but you know how important his patients are to him. Putting your needs aside is something you're used to, and you don't want to be a burden by asking him to stay. Instead, you nod heavily as you stand up from the couch, pretending to be alright. ''Let's go, Zayne.''

The young doctor watches you intently for a moment before responding, his eyes following your movements as you walk over to the coat rack to grab your jacket. He knows you too well and can clearly see the disappointment behind your feigned bright expression.

He wishes he could silence the pager and dismiss it, but the oath he's sworn holds him to his duty. So he clears his throat and keeps a straight face, even though it’s breaking him inside to walk away from you.

''Alright. I’ll drop you off on the way.''

Zayne's attentive eyes are focused on your profile while the motor of his vehicle purrs softly. It's been the only sound since you left his apartment and your silence couldn't be louder to him.

When the signal turns green again, he reluctantly takes his gaze back to the road, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he tries to figure out how to get to you.

Beep-Beeeep.

The sigh that escapes your lips as his Pager goes off for the second time today is not missed by him.

''I apologize that we have to postpone our date. I didn't expect it to end like this.'' You hear Zayne's calm voice as he tries to reach you, hoping for a response. You shift in the passenger seat, staring out the window, not really focusing on anything. Another faint smile appears on your face as you turn to him, wondering whether you should tell him the truth: That you feel rejected and disappointed. That you miss him and want to be with him.

But there is this numbing feeling that you might come off as too needy, as someone who clings and is just too much to handle. ''It's okay; don't worry too much about it, Doctor Zayne. We can always meet again on your next free day.'' You say as you stop in front of your apartment building.

Without waiting for his response, you get out of Zayne's car and close the door a bit harder than you intended. You know it's not his fault and that he didn't intentionally let you down. Yet a crippling feeling of neglect washes over you as you retreat from his sight. Completely unaware of his longing gaze upon you as the engine starts again.

Later that day, you have already resigned yourself to spending the evening alone when you suddenly hear your phone vibrate on your desk. Your heart skips a beat as you see Zayne's name on the display:

''I'm taking the day off tomorrow to compensate for today and bought two tickets for a movie tonight. Would you like to accompany me? I'm waiting downstairs.''

You rush out of your apartment as fast as you can, still in disbelief that he is actually here. Zayne is leaning against his car, and a smile spreads across his handsome face as he sees you running towards him, jumping straight into the arms of your beloved. He chuckles softly as you bury your face in his chest before looking up at him.

''Zayne, about earlier... I'm so sorry for how I acted I-'' Your words are interrupted as gentle, green eyes stare back at you while he slowly shakes his head. ''No. You don't have to act strong all the time.''

You feel his arms loosen around you, and just as you start to panic, his warm hands gently wrap around your trembling fingers. ''It's alright to feel disappointed when things don't go your way. All you have to do is tell me how you feel and promise to be honest. I will accept you, no matter which side you show.''

Thank you for reading! Cherry 🍒 Updated Nov. 20th: Added links to the other parts + fixed formatting.

[salemrph]

Show me (Sylus x MC)

Summary: Sylus is driving you wild, and no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to ease the heat building inside you. After playing blackjack, you find yourself trapped in his control, where the line between teasing and desire disappears.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: explicit sexual content, provocative, soft

Pet names: Kitten, Sweetie, Love

Word count: 5,189 | Reading Time: 20 min |

WARNINGS: mdni, fingering, biting, masturbation

This is my first explicit story. Hope you enjoy it.

A moan felt from your lips, is feels so good. Your body is heating up, you arch your back on the bed. Your hand is buried in the sheets. It's intoxicating—his scent lingers everywhere. In the silence of your room, your sighs fill the air. You can feel how wet your are. You hear his voice in your ear, resonating like an echo throughout your body.

You need more, more then what you're feeling now. One more finger slips inside you making you moan his name. You're sweating, you ajuste your position, flipping around, burying your nose in his shirt laying on your pillow. Again. There is the sweet spot.

"Please... Sylus" Only a thread of voice comes out of you, a prayer, begging.

His hands tracing imaginary patterns across your skin, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You hear his voice, low and seductive, in your mind, his breath hot against your skin.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. I want you to moan my name until you can't take it any longer."

You can imagine how he would look at you, his eyes darkened with lust, his lips curling up in a knowing smirk. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he guides your movements. The idea of his words sends a shivers down your spine.

How would his finger feels pressing inside of you, the weight of him bearing down on you, holding your nipple? His mouth on your skin, his lips against yours, his teeth scrapping across your skin, marking you as his.

You take your vibrator between your legs, you don't need the vibration tonight, the sensation of having something hard in you is enough. You started with a slow pace but you're so wet, so hungry for him that you quickly change to violent thrust, hitting you g-spot. How would his cock feel, pulsing, twitching? God... is he also so big as your toy or more?

"Kitten" His voice would sound, guttural and rough, as he would moan your name in pleasure.

Everything tight up, your mouth goes dry, your nipple harder than ever, you feel the orgasm reach the pick and you let the pleasure wash over you in release.

"Sylus..." you whisper one more time. The toys, your hand and sheet are cover in your fluids. "Fuck..."

How many time have you fuck yourself thinking about this man? Coming undone with your hands or your vibrator, leaving a mess in your bed—and in your heart. The scent of his shirt, stolen from his closet, clings to you like a guilty pleasure, making you feel like a stalker. When did you become this needy?

You want to get closer to him, but you can’t bring yourself to take the game beyond playful flirting. Whenever it feels like too much, you deflect, change the subject, or find an excuse to pull away. But it’s getting harder to resist. Night after night, he’s all you can think about.

You search for your panties, tossed somewhere on the bed in the haze of release. Still catching your breath, you rise and head to the bathroom, half-naked, to clean up the mess.

You step into the shower, hoping the warm water will help you settle down. The steam wraps around you as you stand under the stream, letting it run over your skin. Your body wants more. It craves something real, something that no amount of teasing thoughts or fantasies can satisfy. You lean your forehead against the cool tiles, trying to clear your mind, but it’s useless. Every time you close your eyes, it’s him—his voice, his touch, the way he’d look at you just before… You swallow hard, shaking your head, but the heat rising in your chest doesn’t fade.

Your body feels restless, it’s begging for more, and nothing you do is enough. The ache is real, almost frustrating. You feel ridiculous, standing here, wanting him like this, but the thought of him is all you can hold onto. And it’s driving you crazy.

The worst part? You’re staying at his place. Not just any place—his place. And you didn’t even have the decency to keep your restless thoughts in check. Instead, you gave in, right here in the guest room. You brought the vibrator just in case, but you didn't think you were going to use it.

Now, standing in the shower, the reality of what you’ve done crashes over you. The thought of being just a few doors away from him while you… God, what if he knew? What if he heard? You feel a flush creep up your neck, but it’s not from the hot water

What have I done? He would never come into my room without asking permission, would he?

No. Sylus was many things, but someone who crossed boundaries without permission? That... yeah, it his style. But still… you can’t shake the nagging doubt.

The image of his smirk flashes in your mind, and your stomach twists. If he knew, he wouldn’t just ignore it—he’d use it against you. Not cruelly, but in that way he has, turning everything into a game, making you stumble just to see if you’ll catch yourself.

You press your hands to your face, letting the water run over your fingertips. Stop overthinking. But it’s impossible when you’re in his space, surrounded by his presence, his scent, his everything.

You step out of the shower, the steam clinging to your skin as you wrap yourself in a towel. Padding softly to your bag, you pull out a fresh pair of everything—underwear, shorts, a loose t-shirt—and slip them on, the cool fabric a small comfort against your overheated thoughts.

The evidence of your restless night—the shirt you shamelessly swiped from his closet and the vibrator you couldn’t resist using—gets shoved deep into your bag. Out of sight, out of mind... or so you tell yourself.

You glance at the clock: 3 a.m. Perfect. Just enough time to stew in your self-inflicted insomnia.

Climbing back into bed, the sheets feel colder, the silence louder. Your mind refuses to settle, replaying every moment, every sound from earlier. You shift restlessly, willing sleep to take over, but it’s no use. Now you’re stuck, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking of him. Of course.

You toss and turn, the sheets twisting uncomfortably around you. Frustration bubbles up as sleep evades you entirely. With a sigh, you sit up, grab a sweater from the back of a chair, and pull it on.

The house is creepily silent, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, pressing against your ears. You pause for a moment, listening for any signs of life. Has Sylus left? Is he in his room? You don’t hear a thing, and it doesn’t matter. Right now, you just need a breath of fresh air to clear your restless mind.

You wander aimlessly through the quiet hallways, the cool floor beneath your bare feet grounding you slightly. The thought of stepping outside without shoes makes you hesitate, so you continue pacing, hoping to find some semblance of calm.

The silence wraps around you like a blanket, but it’s quickly broken by a faint fluttering sound behind you. You freeze mid-step, a familiar presence prickling at the edge of your senses.

Not even two minutes have passed, and the crow is already following you. You turn your head slightly, catching the unmistakable glint of black feathers in the dim light. The bird perches silently on your shoulder.

"Really?" you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms. "Can’t a girl have a moment alone?"

Mephisto caw, of course, but you swear its head tilts just slightly, as if mocking your question.

"Fine..." You continue your way down the hall, the sense of restlessness grows within you, pushing you toward the one place that always offers some semblance of peace: the music room.

You reach the door, its heavy wood standing like a barrier between the silence of the house and the world you’re trying to escape. You push it open, stepping inside. The air is thick with the smell of aged wood and leather. The room feels different from the rest of the mansion—more alive, somehow. It’s Sylus’s private music library, a sanctuary filled with vintage records, all arranged with meticulous care.

The world slows down here, and you can breathe without the weight of questions pressing on your chest. You move closer to the shelves, your fingers grazing the edges of the records. Maybe you can find something to ease the tension, something to distract you from the chaos inside your heart.

Mephisto has perched himself on the arm of the chair nearby, you pull a record off the shelf at random. The cover is pretty without thinking too much, you slip the record onto the turntable, setting the needle in place. The faint crackle of the vinyl fills the air before smooth, cozy jazz begins to play, its mellow tones weaving a subtle warmth around the room. The sound wraps around you like a gentle hug.

You sink into the sofa, letting the smooth jazz fill the room and take the edge off your restless thoughts. The soft rhythm seeps into your chest, steady and comforting, grounding you in the moment. The warm glow of the room feels smaller, cozier, like a little bubble away from the world. For a second, it works. For a second, you let yourself breathe. But then your mind wanders, and the peace slips through your fingers.

How may moments you had with Sylus, where the tension between was unbearable? His finger moving softly under your chin forcing you to meet that piercing gaze of his. The other hand moving from your hip to your back.

The memory is enough to send a shiver through you, the same tightness blooming in your chest, the heat rising again. You whisper his name into the quiet, barely a sound, but it still feels too loud. Curling up on the couch, you press your knees to your chest, as if it’ll somehow contain the ache that’s spreading through you.

"I hope my name is the only one you pronounce like that, kitten."

You freeze at the sound of his voice, low and teasing, cutting through the music like a blade. Slowly, you look up, your pulse hammering in your chest. Sylus leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his smirk sharper than ever. You sit up.

You feel your face heat up instantly. How long had he been standing there?

"I didn’t—" you start, but the words falter. What could you even say? Deny it? Explain it away?

Sylus steps into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Relax," he says, his tone light but laced with that unmistakable edge. "I don’t mind being in your little head... especially if I’m keeping you awake."

Your heart skips as he stops a few steps away, looking down at you with that infuriating, unreadable expression.

"I... wasn't thinking about you" you mumble, your voice barely audible over the music.

"If you say so" he replies, his smirk deepening as he tilts his head.

Sylus closes the distance between you. He stops in front of you, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. The touch is light, almost gentle, but it sends a jolt through your entire body.

"You look awfully tense," he murmurs, his voice dipping into a velvety softness. His fingers trail down, tracing the line of your jaw before lifting your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The intensity in his gaze steals your breath, every teasing word now layered with something much heavier, much darker. He leans down, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth of his breath against your lips.

"Tell me, kitten," he whispers, his tone impossibly smooth, "what exactly were you thinking about when you said my name like that?"

Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. His other hand moves, settling on the armrest of the couch, caging you in without ever touching you fully. The air between you is thick, charged with an electric tension that has you struggling to find your voice.

"I..." The words catch in your throat. Sylus doesn’t wait. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk.

"How about we play a little game?" he says, sitting down next to you.

You look at him, confused. "If you win, you can ask me to do whatever you want..."

A shiver runs down your spine. Your mind wanders to what that "whatever" could mean, and the thought of his lips on yours or his hands roaming your body makes your cheeks flush and you panties wet. Fuck. Playing games with Sylus is dangerous. It’s like making a deal with the devil. He looks at you intently, his gaze unwavering, and you swallow hard. Curiosity killed the cat, but despite knowing better, you ask anyway.

"What if I lose?"

Sylus chuckles softly, his voice laced with amusement.

"Then you do whatever I want, sweetie" he replies, his smirk widening. You tense for a moment. "Like going to bed so you can finally get some sleep." Your eyes dart around the room, trying to decide if this is a good idea.

"What game?" you ask finally, your curiosity winning out.

"I let you choose" he says, his tone casual but his expression far from innocent. It doesn’t guarantee victory, but at least it’s a starting point.

"And...?"

"Deal"

Well, you just sold your soul. Now you need to pick something that gives you even a shred of a chance. Sylus is good at nearly everything. You don't feel like playing Kitty Cards right now. You sigh, racking your brain for options. Luck might be your best bet. If you can’t outskill him, maybe you can outplay him. You need to play dirty at this, if you want to win.

"Black Jack" you declare, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Sylus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your choice.

"As you wish," he says smoothly. Then, with an almost imperceptible glint in his eye, he adds, "I’ll call Luke and Kieran to deal for us."

It doesn’t take long before the table is set and the twins are in position, ready to play their role. Sylus, ever the gentleman when it suits him, guides you to your seat with a hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

You glance nervously at the cards and then at Sylus, who’s already settled in across from you, exuding his usual confidence. His eyes meet yours, and that devilish smirk reappears. "Ready, sweetie? Or are you already regretting this?"

"I've been born ready" you declare, exuding confidence as you sit down.

The rules are set: five rounds, with three wins needed to claim the prize. It feels fair, or at least as fair as any deal with Sylus could be.

The game begins, and each round feels like an eternity. Cards are dealt, your mind races, and every decision is accompanied by a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. Sylus, of course, looks completely unbothered, his smirk never faltering.

Despite your efforts—despite every ounce of strategy, luck, and sheer will—you lose.

Sylus leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression smug. "Well, kitten, I think we both know what that means."

As Sylus looks at the twins, they vanish without a word, leaving the room in eerie silence. He strides over to you with purpose, and before you can react, his hand grabs your arm.

"Wait—" you start, but the protest dies in your throat as Sylus effortlessly hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. You squirming against his hold.

He laughs, the sound deep and infuriatingly smug. He carries you through the halls, ignoring your attempts to wriggle free, until he reaches his room. The door shuts behind him with a soft click locking the room, he sets you down gently in the center of his bed.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice shaky. Sylus smirks as he steps back, his hands moving to his shirt.

"It is not obvious? Claiming my prize" Your eyes widen as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs. No matter how many times you've seen them, the sight still makes your brain short-circuit. You try to look away, your face heating. A moment later, the bed shifts as Sylus lies down beside you. You turn onto your side, giving him your back, putting distance. You can´t look at him, not right now, when you feel that your whole body is burning in desire.

"Why are you hiding, kitten?"

"I- I'm not" you stammer, your voice betraying you. Sylus chuckles, pulling you closer until your back is pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and secure, and he buries his nose in the curve of your neck.

"Yes, you are" he murmurs, his voice vibrating through you.

You swallow hard, your pulse thundering in your ears. "J-Just tell me what I need to do," you manage, barely above a whisper.

"I want you to show me something" Sylus says, his voice low and dripping with intent.

You blink, confused, your mind racing to catch up. But before you can ask what he means, you feel it—his nose brushing along, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. Then comes the slow, deliberate drag of his tongue, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I think" his tone laced with amusement and far darker, "a naughty kitten was calling for me during her... private session."

His words are a sharp contrast to the gentle press of his lips against your pulse, and it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Your entire body tenses, heat flooding your face as realization slams into you like a tidal wave. Oh god! He heard you. Of course, he did. You made a terrible mistake, letting yourself get lost in your desires, thinking you were alone.

"I don’t know what you mean" you stammer, your voice shaky, unconvincing even to your own ears.

Sylus laughs softly, the sound more dangerous than comforting. "You don’t? Maybe I can help you replay how you sounded..."

Before you can respond, his teeth graze your neck, sharp and deliberate, before biting down just enough to make you gasp. The sharp sensation sparks through your body, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Trapped in his hold, you feel completely at his mercy, and yet, every nerve in your body screams for more.

Sylus hums against your neck, the sound deep, amused, and entirely unhurried. "It’s still not enough" he murmured, his tone wickedly smooth, as if coaxing a confession from you.

You squirm in his grip. His teeth scrape against your skin, his grip tightening around you just enough to make your breath hitch. Your body betrays you, responding to the intoxicating mix of dominance and teasing. Before you can stop it, a small, high whimper escapes your lips.

Sylus stills for a moment, and then you feel his smirk against your neck. "There it is" he says softly, the satisfaction in his voice unmistakable. "Now... a deal is a deal. Show me what were you doing earlier." He press himself against you, you feel it. That's definitely not his phone.

Your face burns as you twist to look at him. "Were you spying on me?"

His smirk deepens, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh no, kitten. I’d never do such a thing." He leans closer. "I just wanted to make sure you were asleep and... I heard it through the door."

"How?" you demand, your embarrassment threatening to consume you.

He grins, sharp and taunting. "I have good hearing." he says, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus shifts with deliberate ease, he maneuvers you onto your back, his body following closely. His arms cage you in, his legs bracketing yours, trapping you beneath him. Your jaw tightens as you glare at him, but it only seems to amuse him more. Sylus tilts his head, studying you like a predator does its prey.

"Don’t look so embarrassed" he says, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "You sounded... exquisite." You cover your face with your hands, groaning.

Sylus chuckles, his hand sliding down your arm to gently pull your hands away. His grip is firm but not forceful, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he brings your face back into view. He counters smoothly, leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Now, kitten... show me." He nips lightly at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His other hand slides up your leg.

You mind is spinning, you've been wanting this for a long time, every night, every day you spend with him. And now that he's noticed you, that he's created the perfect scenario. You click your tongue, frustrated with yourself, hating the cowardice you feel.

"I'll... do it" Sylus moves away, he looks a bit surprised over the words, but then his smiles returns and his expression change to a mix lust and possessiveness.

"Mmm, good girl," he purrs. He kneels back, giving you space.

You move to the top of the bed, positioning yourself against the pillows, your body halfway between sitting and lying down. Sylus watches your every move intently. His eyes follow the curve of your body, taking in the sight of you slowly, unhurriedly, getting comfortable.

Your hands disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts, out of his view, you fix your eyes on him, meeting his gaze, your own filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire. He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as your hand moves slowly. You never thought your first time with him would be like this—a voyeuristic experience. This wasn’t just about him seeing you—it was about you letting him see. And the power in that, the sheer intimacy of it, made your pulse race even faster.

Fuck it! I'm giving him the show of his life.

His breathing is heavier, deeper, as he watches your facial expressions, as he sees the pleasure cross your features. You moan, your breath becoming heavier, send a jolt straight through him. His intense gaze flickers to your other hand as it disappears beneath your shirt. His lips part slightly, and though he doesn’t say a word, you know he’s imagining exactly what you’re doing. His hunger is palpable, his eyes darker, his breathing heavier, but he stays rooted in place, letting you show him everything.

You can feel the need growing within you, a burning desire that begs to be satisfied. You slide your hand down further, your finger slipping beneath the fabric of your panties seeking for relief. You're so goddamn wet. As you arch your back, your eyes closing momentarily, Sylus groans lowly. You increase the pace, your breath coming in quick, sharp gasps as you work yourself closer and closer to the edge.

As you get lost briefly in the pleasure, you forget for a moment that he is there, watching you with a hot, possessive gaze.

His body tenses and tremors as he tries to deal with the erection straining against his slacks. The sound of your whimpers is making him lose everything, he wants you, wants to touch you, to taste you, to possess you utterly. He can smell your arousal, his body coiled like a panther waiting to pounce. But he resists the urge instead, Sylus leans forward, moving slowly next to you, his face is now just a breath away from yours. His perfume surrounds you, filling your nose, you want him so bad. The desire burning in your stomach is even stronger now than it was when you were touching yourself just hours ago.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice a low, silken murmur.

"Sylus..." You can't help but say his name. You don't want this moment to end—you don't want to come. Staying like this, feels so damn right it consumes you.

"Come for me," he repeats. "Let go... I want to see you come undone."

You're so close, so close to tipping over the edge, and he's there, waiting, watching.

"I don't know if I can..." you whine, your voice trembling with the effort of holding back.

"May I help you?" his voice low and seductive.

At this point, your body is burning with need, every nerve begging for him. You nod, unable to resist the pull anymore. Sylus tilts your chin toward him, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, messy kiss that makes you feel dizzy with desire. A desperate moan slips from your lips as his kiss intensifies. Every movement, every brush of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Sylus's kiss is all-consuming. You abandon what you were doing, your hands going to his shoulders, holding on to him tightly.

He breaks the kiss, his breath hot on your skin as he moves down to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

He move you effortlessly, sitting you between his legs, your back resting against his bare chest. With quick, practiced movements, he pulls down your shorts and underwear, you lift your hips slightly to help. His hand spreads your legs and you give him full access to your body.

The touch of his hands against your skin, as they run up your legs, leaves a trail of fire in its wake. He pauses, resting on your inner thighs, gently rubbing and squeezing the sensitive flesh. He kisses your shoulder after that his lips leaves open-mouthed kisses and bites on your neck.

"Sylus... please" you whine.

He groans in response, his body tensing against yours. He can feel the pleading in your voice, the need that mirrors his own. You take his hand, guiding it up to your wetness, wanting, no, needing him to touch you, to give you what you desire so badly since you know him.

"So needy, aren't we?" he growls into your ear.

He teases you, moving around your opening, his touch light and almost taunting. Then, one finger finds your warmth, and you gasp aloud at the sensation. "So ready for me" his voice low and sultry. His finger moves in a slow, circular motion, building the tension, driving you insane. You move your hips against his hand, trying to get more contact.

"You're so eager" his free hand coming up to grip your hip, holding you in place. He speeds up the motion adding pressure and friction. "I guess you can take another finger" Without waiting for an answer, a second finger is added, stretching you further and eliciting a gasp of both pain and pleasure. You let your head fall back on his shoulder. Opening more of your legs.

"D- Don't stop"

His finger curls inside you, deliberate and skilled, seeking out that sweet spot that leaves you breathless. When he finds it, a sharp wave of pleasure courses through you, stronger than anything you’d ever imagined. Your body arches involuntarily, pressing into his touch as a moan slips out of you.

"There it's" he purrs.

Each movement of his hand is precise, teasing you closer and closer to the edge without letting you fall. His thumb brushes over your clit in a perfect rhythm, amplifying the sensation until you’re gasping for air.

"Sylus..." you whimper, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the exquisite feeling of him inside you, even if it’s just his finger. You hold on to his legs, your fingers sinking into the fabric of his pants as you try to hold on.

"That's it" he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. "Claw at me. Mark me."

When he presses against that favourite spot again, your entire body tenses, a sharp cry escaping you.

"S- Sylus... I'm... close..." your words are a pleading gasp, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge.

He smirks, his pace unwavering, his dark red eyes locked onto your face. He feels you tightening around his fingers, senses the way your body is begging for release.

"Be a good girl," he growls, low and commanding, "and come on my hand."

You can feel the pressure building within you, the tension ratcheting higher and higher. Every touch, every whisper from Sylus, fuels the fire consuming you. You're so close now, teetering on the edge, at this point you're just whimpers. His other hand slides beneath your shirt, his fingers expertly teasing and pinching your nipple, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

He whispers in your ear, his voice a low, sultry command. "Let go, love. Come for me."

Your mouth goes dry as you try to catch up your breath, every nerve of your body alight with the intensity of the moment. You can barely breathe, your chest heaving as you try to cling to some semblance of control. But his voice, paired with the relentless rhythm of his fingers and the possessive way his body surrounds yours, is too much.

A broken cry tears from your throat as the tension finally snaps. Your body shuddering uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and undone. Sylus keeps his hand on you, his fingers still inside, coaxing every last ripple of your release.

When your breathing begins to steady, he finally withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a sharp pang of emptiness that only deepens the need swirling in your chest. His face is buried in your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

"That was the most fucking cute whimper I've ever heard"

Before you can even think of a reply, Sylus turns you in his grip, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, all teeth and passion, his possessiveness pouring out in every movement. His hand tangles in your hair as he claims you completely, his body pressing into yours as if he can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.

The fabric of your shirt became a frustrating barrier to his touch, his impatient evident in the way his fingers trace along it, desperate to feel your skin "I want you" he growls into your skin, his voice rough with need.

"I think you had claim your prize already" you manage to say, voice shaky.

Sylus laughs, the sound dark and knowing. "Technically, you didn’t fulfill your part of the deal. So…" he says, the amusement clear in his tone. You feel him press his hard dick against your back, making your body heat up again. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks down at you with that trademark smirk. "...I want you instead."

[kykyonthemoon]

The Witch's Flowers

In the kingdom of Philos, witches are a scourge that must be banished. Many years have passed since the witch hunt was issued, and magic has chosen to hide in the dark forests. Deep in the heart of the forest, a field of wavy-leaf sea lavenders blossoming with blue tells the story of a young Knight and The Witch whom he was ordered to hunt down…

ಇ.Xavier x MC (Reader)

ಇ. Tags: AU, fluff with angst, hurt/comfort, HE, fairy tale, witch hunt, first pov (Xavier's)

ಇ.Word count: 3788w - oneshot.

ಇ. Requested by ChloeVN.

ಇ.Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (closed for the time being)

Blood.

The foul liquid was staining the blue petals a dark, deadly red. My palm was likewise saturated in the color as I pressed firmly on the open wound in my abdomen. Staggering, with each step a blue flower was stained with my blood. As though I were dreaming, the flower field in front of me radiated a mystical blue. I had traveled through many lands, discovered countless secrets, but I had never set foot in this place. The dark woodland encircled a field of wavy-leaf sea lavenders, in the middle of which was a cottage, where ivy wrapped around the walls, smoke billowed from the tall chimney, and warm light shone from the open window. Someone was humming a lullaby that made my eyes heavy. Everything before me wavered and blurred. The wavy-leaf sea lavenders welcomed me into their arms, cradling my lifeless body and saying:

“Rest now, rest,

O Knight of a distant land.

Sweet dreams

Shall heal all your wounds,

And wipe away your tears.

Rest now, rest…”

The dense forest at the eastern end of the kingdom had long remained a mystery. Few who ventured there could come back alive to tell the tale. Most feared the wild beasts within, while others spread rumors of witches who dwelled there. Witchcraft was a forbidden topic in Philos. Many years ago, the royal family issued an order to capture and execute everyone who practiced witchcraft. Today, no one would dare to speak of magic in public for fear of being arrested. Yet witches still existed, somewhere in the dark woodlands, concealed among mankind. And regardless of how much they feared or despised witches, the royal family aspired to wield their power.

That is why I, a knight of Philos, took on the mission of finding a cure for the ailing King.

I had never despised witches. To me, nobody was born good or wicked. But my oath of devotion to the royal family compelled me to travel to the East, fight monsters, and find a witch with the mythical power to bring the dead back to life. I kept adventuring and struggling until my feet could no longer move.

And then I awoke in a little room filled with the aroma of herbs. I was covered in pale blue wavy-leaf sea lavender blossoms. They tumbled into the bed as I rose up.

The pleasant singing voice that I had been listening to since regaining consciousness abruptly stopped. A few seconds later, a girl approached the door.

"How are you feeling?"

I was slightly taken aback. I had no idea who she was; if I had ever met a person this beautiful, I would never forget her. She was as lovely as the blue flowers outside the cottage, glowing naturally and without pretense. Her tenderness made me feel secure, and I was able to rest even though I had no idea where I was or what I would confront without my sword in hand.

“Hey there, Knight!” She suddenly came closer, leaning down extremely near to me. I could detect the aroma of wavy-leaf sea lavenders emanating from her. "Can you hear me?!"

Her little fingers waved in front of my eyes. While I was still in a trance, she mumbled to herself:

“Oh, did I make the wrong potion?… Have I… ruined him?…”

She dashed out of the room in a panic. She reappeared shortly after, with a steaming bowl of potion. She handed it to me.

"Drink this."

I took it. The peculiar liquid was dark blue, and the scent made me nauseous. I gazed up to meet her eyes.

"Would it be all right if I refuse this?"

She was a little startled when she heard me. She replied, “So you can speak?! I thought you… Oh, give me the potion.”

I was relieved she had moved the bowl of potion away from me. Then she stepped closer, closer than before, leading me to lean back slightly and rest one hand on the bed.

“So are you feeling better? Does it still hurt anywhere?” she inquired. Her gaze swept me from head to stomach. “Let me check your wound!”

Without waiting for my consent, her fingers slipped under my shirt. I was astonished and swiftly grabbed her wrist.

“What… What are you doing?”

“Checking your wound. I just told you!”

She brushed my hand away and lifted my shirt, revealing my abdomen where the monster’s deep cut had healed completely. There was no trace left to indicate that I had almost passed through the gates of Death. This confused me as well.

“It’s healed now. You’re recovering well!”

The girl smiled. Her cool  fingertips stroking my flesh caused me to blush. I pulled my shirt down in a haste.

"That was you. You've healed me, right?

She did not respond immediately, but instead gave a mysterious grin. "If I said I had intended to use your body as fertilizer for my flowers, would you believe me?"

I was astonished to hear her say that. She laughed.

“Don’t worry, I have no intention to do that yet. As long as you don’t burn me on the pyre, I won’t harm you.”

Her gaze shifted to the corner of the table, where my sword rested. She was already aware of my identity, and she may have assumed I was here to hunt her down.

"So you're… a witch?"

She stared at me. A trace of grief appeared on her face, but she instantly cracked a playful grin.

"I am a witch, the most malevolent one in this realm. I did not save you out of any mercy. I only needed someone to test my handcrafted potions."

I looked at the bowl of horrible potion, which had already lost its smoke. My wound had healed entirely, yet  my body still ached and I was fatigued. Faced with a witch, I doubted I would be able to flee to the forest's edge. Not to mention the savage monsters who waited for me outside. In addition, I still had to repay the person who saved my life.

After considering it for a while, I said to her:

“If you need me, I’m here. I want to repay your kindness.”

The Witch smiled. “You shall replant my beloved flowers that you've ruined out there first.”

From that day on, I stayed in the cottage with The Witch. Her treatment helped me purge the monster poison from my body. Day by day, I healed rapidly. However, I still used the excuse of not regaining my strength yet so that I could stay here. II frequently assisted her with little errands such as repairing the cottage, woodcutting in the deep forest, or hunting animals. She cooked really well and even provided me with a comfortable spot to sleep in the living room. I immediately realized it had been a long time since I recalled what a regular life was like.

As a child, I was trained to become a knight. My existence revolved around the orders and expectations of my clan. Yet here, in the midst of nowhere, the load on my shoulders appeared to be removed, along with the shining, hefty armor. And before I knew it, I had grown to enjoy the quiet life here.

I also fell in love with the girl who cared for me every day. How could I not, knowing that beneath that mystery exterior was a really compassionate person? Despite her claims that she was using me for potion testing, everything she gave me was a tonic. She said I was her errand guy, but whenever she cooked something, she let me have it first. She treated me, a knight - who was originally ordered to hunt her down - with all her sincerity and kindness.

If it had not been for the edict to kill witches, she would not have had to flee to the farthest reaches of the kingdom.

“Xavier? Don't just stand there. Bring me the potion.”

Her voice echoed across the wavy-leaf sea lavender field. She was sitting on the ground, with the baby unicorn creature resting on her lap. She took care of not only me, but also the wild animals and even monsters in the forest. Sometimes they would come to the cottage in tatters, and she would heal them. I wondered if she had considered me to be one of those creatures when she had first seen me.

I delivered the potion to The Witch. She put some blue liquid into the unicorn's mouth. It groaned, fought for a time, and finally fell asleep soundly.

"How many times have I told you not to go too far from the forest? Humans will catch you, skin you, and eat you alive!"

The little animal turned over in her arms. She stroked its one-horned head, then looked at it with loving eyes. Like her, the creatures living in this forest had never harmed anyone before, yet they were frequently hurt by humans chasing them or putting traps along the woodland's border.

After a moment, I spoke to her: “Not all humans are so cruel.”

She looked at me. The wavy-leaf sea lavender field swirled in the bright sunlight around us. I wished I could give her a life free of worry and dread of being persecuted. I wished I could give her my entire heart, but I was not qualified to do so. I was not deserving of her.

“Yes,” she answered. “Xavier is a human, but he won’t hurt us!” She patted the small unicorn in her arms again.

"Ouch!" I grabbed my head, appearing to be in agony. "I suddenly feel a little dizzy…"

She smiled at me. She let me lean on her shoulder and rubbed her cheek into my hair.

“Why are you so weak? Are you certain that you’re a knight, Xavier?”

I was unresponsive, just continued to pretend. I was afraid to tell her that I had come here to find a cure for death, and that she was the witch with such power. I had been discreetly investigating her for quite some time before concluding that she was the one I was looking for. She was capable of curing all ailments and even bringing life back to some creatures that were dying, like in mythology. However, a part within me refused to believe it. I did not want to be the bringer of her death.

Her lullaby resounded again. In the midst of the blooming way-leaf sea lavenders dancing in the breeze, I dreamed of a peaceful vision where I would stay here forever, with her.

Good things came to an end so soon. My blue dream was exactly the same.

The other knights had managed to track me down. The forest sent a warning to The Witch, and I knew it was time to say goodbye to her.

We sat beneath the falling stars. The wavy-leaf sea lavenders, bathed in the light from above, went about their serene lives, unknowing of the impending calamity. I silently begged that time would stand still as The Witch placed her head on my shoulder and watched the shooting stars.

“You have made up your mind, Xavier?”

She asked, and I nodded. Then she sat up straight to look me in the eye. Behind her was a silver strip of the falling star that had just split the night sky in two. Broken.

“You’re not pretending to be weak anymore?”

The Witch was well aware that I had been acting all along in order to win her gentle care. I grinned.

“"If I could, I would remain here with you forever. But I need to depart and distract the other knights. They should not come here and find you.”

Silence descended between us. The shower of stars above was fading away. After a while, The Witch spoke:

“Will we ever meet again?”

I dared not promise her anything. Perhaps I was like those stars, briefly soaring across her serene flower field before plummeting into the endless night. I took her hand, then gently placed a kiss on it.

“As long as I breathe, I will always search for you.”

The Witch leaned in extremely close. My heart missed a beat. Just when I thought she was ready to kiss me, she chuckled and slipped a sprig of wavy-leaf sea lavenders in my hair.

“Worry not. I can defend myself. I’ve been hiding from humans for so long.”

“I know you can’t bear to leave this forest. You don’t want to spend your whole life in fear, or keep running away either.”

This place had always been her sanctuary. And mine. Neither of us could bear to leave it behind.

“Just keep your word and come find me.”

Our little fingers intertwined in a sacred ritual under the blessing of the shooting star and blue flowers. Then, she leaned towards me again to grant me a real kiss.

“I can’t take it anymore. I have to tell you the truth!”

The voice of Jeremiah, another knight in my troop, interrupted my afternoon siesta. We had been on the road for several days, far from the forest where my Witch resided.

"You've been misled!" Jeremiah stated this while sitting beside me under a tree.

“What are you babbling about?” I rubbed my eyes. Jeremiah looked around to make sure we weren’t being overheard before lowering his voice to me. “He knows. Our teacher has been tracking a witch in those woods for a long time. After you disappeared, he sent people to investigate the area. I don’t know what happened to you there, Xavier. But he thinks you’ve been… bewitched! So he sent us here on purpose to get you out of the woods. He’ll deal with the witch himself.”

“What did you just say?!” I broke out of my daze.

“I’m telling you this because you’re my good friend. You’ve been talking about that witch all these days. I can't keep the truth from you, knowing that you would regret it for the rest of your life."

I got up and went to get my horse. I galloped through the trees, and Jeremiah’s voice cheered me on from behind:

“Go, Xavier! May the winds take you to her!”

But I was still a little too late.

The wavy-leaf sea lavender field before my eyes was burning, and the cottage where The Witch and I had spent our days together was also engulfed in flames. I heard her screams mixed with the roars of the miserable creatures who had just sacrificed themselves under the cutting sword to defend the Witch.

I gripped the hilt of my sword and pointed it at that person. My mentor.

“Xavier. Do you recall when I warned you that the spells of witches corrupt the minds of humans?”

Over the shoulder of my mentor, the illustrious Grand Knight of Philos, I caught a glimpse of The Witch. Her hands were bound with shackles invented specifically for witch hunting. The blood trickling from her pale face came from the creatures that had died for her, and it was the same crimson liquid that stained the blue flowers.

The Witch's eyes were filled with hatred rather than fear. Yet when she saw me, she almost burst into tears.

“She has never harmed anyone,” I said. “Please let her go.”

“Let her go?” the Grand Knight repeated. He laughed aloud. His elderly but still powerful physique trembled beneath his dazzling armor. “She is the one we seek. She is the one who can save the King!”

"At what cost?" I demanded. "Her life?" You taught me to wield my sword to fight for my principles and defend what I hold dear. But all I see here is my revered mentor hurting innocent creatures at the commands of a dying man!"

The Grand Knight turned to face me.

“The royal order is my life’s principle! Xavier, you are my favorite pupil, yet you have also disappointed me the most! In such a short period of time, you have become so enchanted by that witch that you are unable to discriminate between good and bad!"

My sword became even more steady as it was directed toward him. I replied:

“And you, my mentor, have been sleeping in the honor and orders you have been given all this time. You have forgotten what your sword once protected!”

I charged towards the Grand Knight, who did not flinch as he parried my attack. Everything I knew, every fighting skill I had mastered, was taught to me by this man. I remembered the training sessions between the two of us, when I was very young. He had told me that only the strong could defend the ones they loved. So that child practiced till he bled every day in order to be recognized by his mentor and protect his clan.

At that time, the witch hunt had not yet been issued. A few years later, when I officially became a knight, the King, in order to find the elixir of immortality, had relentlessly persecuted witches, using violence to suppress them. The myth of witches using magic to hurt innocent people was only a pretext for the royal family to publicly execute them and use their blood to create the elixir. But this was not how magic worked. The King was gravely ill and dying, and numerous innocent witches had to give their lives for his dream of immortality.

“Let him die!” I shouted as I continued to attack the Grand Knight. “Let the King and his false immortality die!”

While I was fighting against my mentor, The Witch had vanished. She kept running away, disappearing from this place. As long as she was safe, I was willing to give up everything.

Even my life.

The blade that had served as my guiding light  pierced through the gap in my armor and stabbed straight into my chest. But I also thrust the sword into the Grand Knight's neck. He stared at me. Disappointment and grief were evident in his gradually cloudy eyes. In that moment, I chose The Witch and the justice that my heart urged me to pursue. I apologized and bid farewell to my mentor. This battle was not not meant to have a winner. The Grand Knight shouted my name one last time. Then he sank on the trodden ground, strewn with blue flowers.

I clutched my chest. My feet stumbled down. Blood seeped through the armor I had barely managed to remove. The blue carpet was welcoming me one last time, just like the day I first arrived. But I still had one last wish.

“Xavier! Xavier!!!”

I heard her call my name. My Witch. She appeared beside me and drew me into her embrace. Her hands were still bound. I used my sword to cut her chains.

“You… You’re free now… Leave…”

But she held me. She cried. Her tears dropped like falling stars to the ground. My trembling fingers wiped them away, leaving only a scarlet streak on her face.

“I'm sorry… I ruined your flower field again… This will probably be… the last time…”

My entire body sank into her arms. She put me on my back, so I could see the dying sun in the distance, and her tears watered my face.

“Xavier… You can’t die…” She sobbed. “I’m the one who saved your life… You owe me your life! You are not allowed to die like this…”

I could only apologize to her. But my eyes felt heavy. I whispered to her:

“Can you… sing for me?…”

She leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Xavier… I’ll sing… Go ​​to sleep. When you wake up, everything will be fine…”

I was certain that I would not be able to wake up again. But if she granted me a beautiful dream, then what if I never opened my eyes?

The Witch began to sing. It was the familiar song I had heard when I had discovered this place for the very first time. It was a song meant for me.

The surrounding wavy-leaf sea lavender field suddenly glowed with a halo as my eyes slowly closed. A tremendous and pure energy surged over me, lulling me into a peaceful sleep with her song.

“Rest now, rest,

O Knight of a distant land.

Sweet dreams

Shall heal all your wounds,

And wipe away your tears.

Rest now, rest…”

I awoke on the edge of the forest. Tears were streaming down my face, and my heart felt hollow, as if I had lost something very important in the dark forest. 

I thought there was a strange dream, about a girl with healing powers and wavy-leaf sea lavenders. I could not see her face clearly, nor did I recall what had happened. Like all dreams, they shattered as soon as we woke up, my eyes were dry as I turned away.

Jeremiah was the first to find me. He asked me about the Grand Knight and The Witch, but I had no impression of anything he said. The next day, news came that my mentor's lifeless body had been found in a field of withered, burned flowers. No trace of the witch was found.

Soon after, the King died. The young prince ascended the throne, and the hunt for witches was ended. Knights like myself returned to our regular patrols. Years passed, and the witches suffered no further tragedies, but they appeared to have lost their desire to be among us mortals.

One late afternoon, when I had just finished my duty and returned home, I happened to see the blue of wavy-leaf sea lavenders covering a window. I paused in front of the little flower store, hesitated for a second, then entered.

"I want to buy those." I said. The shopkeeper appeared shortly after, holding a basket of the blue flowers I wanted in her arms.

I had never met her before, I was sure of it. Yet when she smiled at me, dreams of a witch and a field of blue flowers came back to me.

Due to my specialized skills that I have honed over the years, I could recognize witches when they were near. The person standing before me was merely an ordinary girl. Yet why had my heart ached ever since I stepped into this place? Why did I feel as if I had just been reborn when she laid her eyes on me?

I could not recall the person in that dream, the one who awaited me in the field of wavy-leaf sea lavenders. Yet regardless of her identity, I would always recognize her, my Witch.

-The End-

[teamatsumu]

L&DS BOYS - LOVE LANGUAGES

content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, sfw headcanons

XAVIER - PHYSICAL TOUCH

Xavier knows he is smart, and witty enough. But when things get a little too real, he finds it hard to express himself.

And the feelings he has for you are the most genuine ones he has felt in his long, long life.

While he might not be someone who can wax poetic about his affection for you, he shows it in other ways, and physical touch in his favorite way to get his feelings across.

When you walk next to each other, he sticks close, arm brushing against yours. Occasionally, the back of his hand makes contact with your own. It's almost as if the tension builds and builds, until he finally connects your fingers, either intertwining your hands together or linking his pinkie with yours. No words leave his mouth. His touch says enough.

If the train is too crowded, he will pull you closer to him with a firm touch on the small of your back, making sure you don’t receive any unwanted bumps from strangers.

For a few weeks in your relationship, he developed a strange habit of pinching your cheeks and lightly pulling on them. You let him do it, knowing he would eventually move on and find some other part of you to focus on. Though the action did make your face heat up.

Another weird hyperfixation he has is nibbling at your fingertips absentmindedly. He plays with them often, but when he is distracted by a movie you two are watching, he will bite at them every so often. Sometimes, he is so focused on the screen that you doubt he even realizes what he is doing.

(He realizes. He just thinks every part of you deserves love. Don’t question it. It makes sense in his head.)

Cuddling with him is the perfect gift for your senses, stimulating you wonderfully.

Small nips on your skin, little lingering touches. He traces your skin with eager yet gentle hands, as if trying to memorize every curve and dip.

He buries his face in your neck and breathes in deep, and in that moment, bodies tangled with each other and the sheets, vulnerable and open, he will whisper, “I love you”.

It’s an affirmation more than a revelation, since his actions up until this point have all shown you that he really, truly does love you. So you whisper it back, trying to pour all your love into it, before slotting your lips together and using physical touch to convey your feelings right back.

RAFAYEL - WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

Rafayel is, in the simplest of terms, a yapper.

This man could talk for hours if you don’t stop him. About his art, about the meaning of life, about his experiences. He can express so much while also having an impeccable talent of being completely vague. Sometimes, you don’t even understand the things he says. And you’ve given up trying to decipher his every word.

But when Rafayel is talking about you, he makes himself abundantly clear. There’s no ambiguity about it; he loves you. And he will say it a million different times in a million different ways. Whether it be a bold declaration of how much his heart yearns for you, or endless teasing that is meant to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.

“I don’t think your talent lies in art, babe. It’s a good thing you’re a walking art piece yourself. No wonder I’m in love with you.”

“You’re leaving so soon? But I don’t think I’ve admired you enough for today. Don’t leave me!”

I’m impressed, Miss Bodyguard. You’re talented, and easy on the eyes. No wonder you captivated me from that very first day we met.”

Expect to wake up with a lot of voice notes on your phone. Minutes long. Sometimes rambling, sometimes actual ideas for new pieces that he wants to run by you. You better reply to all of them individually.

When you cuddle at night, you can talk for hours. No topic on earth is off limits with him. He will lay you down on a blanket on the beach, and as you watch the stars, he will tell you stories from olden times about star crossed lovers and tragic fairy tales. And he will turn to you, tell you how beautiful you are, how ardently he loves you, how he will never forget any moment he spends with you.

It’s almost like you can tell the exact moment he falls in love with you. Because he tells you. He never stops telling you. He voices his fears of you leaving him, he makes you promise you will never go away. He is clingy and he is whiny, and he is so endearing.

It’s hard to dismiss him when he is so loud about his love. And it’s hard to not fall for him just as he falls for you.

ZAYNE - ACTS OF SERVICE

This is an indisputable fact. Dr Zayne shows his love through acts of service.

He is intensely aware of your needs, and is miles ahead of you in determining what you require at any given moment.

It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He worries for you, and born from that worry is the urge to take care of you.

If you have had a long day, you will come home to a text from him saying he has ordered takeout and it will arrive at your house shortly, since he knows you are too exhausted to cook anything. It is always something different, but it is always food that he knows you enjoy. He will mix it with some healthy options too.

If you ever crash at his place, you will wake up to a tall glass of water and two aspirin on the side table, along with a note in his neat handwriting telling you that there is fresh cooked breakfast in the oven (he made it before he left for work).

Once you two are in a steady relationship, he keeps his house stocked with products you use. A spare shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, a bathrobe of your size, a hair brush, you name it.

When you mumble something about the hand cream in your purse that is nearly running out, you will find a brand new tube next time you open the purse, and there is no need to even ask. You know Zayne put it there.

He is intensely observant. Even after knowing him for so long, it catches you off guard. He knows which of your clothes need to be dry cleaned and which ones are good for the washing machine. He knows which scents you use. Which products are harsher on your skin. He knows that contacts irritate your eyes after long hours of wearing them, so he keeps a small bottle of eye drops in your side table for that very purpose.

He scolds you for neglecting yourself, and he won’t hold back the harsh tone if he thinks your behavior is particularly destructive. To him, the best way to show love is to make sure your beloved is living the best life they can.

It is the littlest things, the tiniest details. And it shocks you, even after so long.

[loveanddeepthroat]

Come Home

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.

Word count - 2k

A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤

It had been hours since you last heard from him.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.

But you felt sick.

It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour. 

Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”

Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”

“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”

You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.

He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.

If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.

As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.

He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.

“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.

You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.

With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.

You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.

Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.

“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.

You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy. 

“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert. 

“Please come back. Please come back.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.

He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.

There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.

Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?” 

That asshole.

He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm. 

Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.

It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.

Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.

Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.

Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.

Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.

And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.

He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.

Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.

His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”

He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.

But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends. 

The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”

In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.

Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.

“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.

He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”

You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset. 

He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.

“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”

He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”

An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.

“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.

He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.

“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”

A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”

Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”

There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.

He cares.

He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.

“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.

“Feel free to monitor me.”