#dad love and deepspace

[abyssyby]

but sylus being scared of scaring the little twins because he tends to get that reaction out children. but they see him for the first time in their happy lives and theyre filled with nothing but awe and joy and love.

tiny hands reaching for his face when he was so sure at least one of them would cry. them crying only because he is out of sight. little noses smooshing against his cheeks to gum his chin, bell-like giggles escaping when he nips at them gently with his sharp teeth.

tiny heart beats against his chest as they feel safe enough to rest in his presence. tiny breaths on his neck, so close to pulse points he never would have let anyone near.

then shining gemstone eyes like his looking to him for guidance, for love. never running, never afraid. for what should they fear? when he is their papa.

[xavistarlight]

Fancy meeting you here pipsqueak

“ Caleb can you get the baby she’s crying again” you exclaim busy making dinner.

“ sure pips no problem “ he trots happily to the nursery

“ oh no , what’s wrong sweet girl” Caleb says carefully picking up your daughter from her bassinet bouncing her a bit in the process.

She starts making an almost airplane like sound slightly struggling trying to make the sound over her bubbling spit blowing raspberry’s instead .

Caleb is confused at first but then he realizes …

“ oh no baby , we can���t remember last time mama will get real mad at daddy… ohhhh but your so cute aren’t you blowing raspberries, mama doesn’t have to know does she and daddy will be real careful he promises” , wrapping his pinkie around her tiny one.

“Caleb did you happen to see my- “

Caleb….

You’re met with two identical pairs of big lavender eyes looking at u in shock, your baby girl floating in the air, while Caleb manipulates gravity around her.

“ fancy meeting you here pipsqueak …”

[leighsartworks216]

Being pregnant with Sylus's twins. Your belly is huge, and your back hurts like nothing else

You're in the kitchen, trying to prepare breakfast. You appreciate Sylus's help, and you love him for all that he's done, but you wanna feel at least a little useful and competent still. You're pregnant, not completely incapable

You manage to get something together when he finds you. Hugging you from behind, resting his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against your jaw and cheek with a rumbling, "Good morning, beloved."

You turn your head to give him a good morning kiss, groaning into it in annoyance. "My back hurts, Sy," you whine. "I swear they weigh as much as you."

He chuckles, kisses your cheek. "Let me help."

You give him a confused look, but you always trust him. Sylus has been looking up a lot of tips and videos for helping his pregnant darling, without telling you, of course, for moments like this when he gets to put what he's seen into action to help you like some suave superhero

He has to bend by his knees a bit to reach your height. Supports your belly from underneath with both hands. And lifts you back against him, all weight taken off your back as he effectively holds up all the weight of your belly for you

The effect is immediate. He smiles as he watches your eyes roll back, flutter shut, as your head falls back against his chest with a relieved sigh. Food is forgotten as you completely succumb to the feeling, arms slack and brain empty

You can feel his smile when he kisses your head. "Better?"

You nod dumbly, humming. "How long can you hold me up?" you murmur

"As long as you need me to."

"Then you're stuck here for a while."

"As you command, sweetie."

[adeptustemptations]

Imagine Sylus standing by the hospital crib, arms frozen at his sides, eyes locked on the tiny bundle swaddled in white. The nurses keep asking if he wants to hold the baby, but he just... stands there. Silent. Unmoving.

Because he's scared.

Scared that his hands; hands that have drawn blood, broken bones, held guns and knives, will somehow ruin this pure little being. That even touching them would be some kind of sinful contamination.

He’s done so much wrong. Hurt so many people. He never thought he deserved you, let alone a child.

But then the baby opens their eyes.

Ruby red. Just like his.

It knocks the breath from his lungs. He’s never seen anything so small, so perfect, and to think they carry a part of him? It’s almost unbearable.

The nurse gently places the baby in his arms, and Sylus panics, even then. He holds them like they’re made of glass, as if one wrong move will cause the heavens to shatter.

He has been handed rare jewels, precious ores, and materials worth millions over the course of his life. But nothing, nothing—has ever compared to the weight of his precious baby being placed into his arms.

Because this? This is priceless.

And despite his anxiety, the baby just... coos. Nuzzles into his chest. Like they know him. Like they trust him.

And suddenly, the walls around his heart crumble.

The infamous Onychinus leader, feared across cities and whispered about like a living nightmare, he’s crying. Silently. Reverently.

He didn’t know love like this existed. He thought he gave you everything. Every bit of softness he had left.

But now?

Now he knows, his heart had one more piece to give.

And it was always meant for them.

[MASTERLIST]

[sylv-1a]

look at his babies 😭😭😭😭😭😭

【art by maisonvonlian】

[cosmoszyn]

“what’s mommy’s name?”

“mommy’s name is mommy!” your daughter exclaims gleefully, deft hands twirling on the string of your hoodie.

you bite back a sigh, patting her head, “no, that’s not mommy’s name.”

a frown makes its way to your daughter’s face, “no! mommy’s name is mommy!” she insists, jutting her lips out in a pout. her hands fall to her lap as she darts her gaze elsewhere when you tell her your actual name.

“now honey, if someone asks what’s my name, you answer with…?” you gently coax, soothing her upset grumbles.

with a defeated expression, your daughter mumbles your name under her breath.

your lips tug into a smile, “good girl. now what’s daddy’s name?”

her somber appearance is replaced by delight, hidden behind a feign scowl, then she bellows, “SYLUS QIN!”

[mwphisto]

Sylus never thought that his life could be so… simple.

Years of pain, of suffering, of longing. Hands that have held weapons, have been stained in blood, have taken the lives of others. An evol meant to hurt, to cut, to snuff out. A man like him shouldn’t know how to be gentle, soft. A man like him shouldn’t even be allowed to love… and yet?

“You’re so… perfect.”

A gentle, barely audible whisper. The little bundle wrapped up in soft cloth seems impossibly smaller in his large hands. His little baby, his little creation, his son.

Better yet, the perfect mix of you and him. Your DNA swirled together with his to create the little human in his hands. A living, breathing baby. The physical testament to your love and devotion for each other.

Sylus never thought he would be worthy enough to earn the title of lover, of husband, never mind father.

For the rest of his life, the little human in his arms would rely on him. Would look to him for love, for comfort, to be sheltered and fed and protected. A little boy who would get the childhood he never got. To give him a second chance and heal the broken child that still lingered within him.

A feather light kiss was placed on his newborn’s head. A silent vow very similar to the one he had made to you. He would burn the world for him, for you, for the little family he didn’t think he’d ever be worthy of having.

Beside him, you stirred. Not enough to wake up fully, but enough that Sylus cradled your son to his chest and used his free hand to rest over your heart. “Rest, my love. I’ve got him, he’s safe right here with us. Sleep.” And you slowly settled in again, breathing steady, content.

His entire world now laid in his hands, and just like that Sylus was convinced he was the luckiest man alive.

[17chuuya]

Rafayel's toddler son is a total mama's boy, despite looking just like his father.

"Nine months in my womb and you look just like your idiot father."

The little kid follows you around everywhere you go and demands that you hold his hand. Personal space is non-existent with both your boys. If it isn't Rafayel clinging to you, it is your son who demands cuddles just as often.

Surprisingly, unlike his father, your son is a very quiet and docile child. He listens to you when you ask him to clean up after himself, and he helps you tidy, despite never being asked to.

But despite being a soft-natured child, he is his father's greatest rival.

Pushing his dad's face away softly whenever he gets too close. Pulling on his ear piercing as a way to fidget. Interrupting the two of you.

Arms wrapped around each other, with you on his lap. He deepens the kiss, sliding a hand in your hair, only for a small voice to call out. "Mama?" "Hi baby!" And just like that, he's forgotten again, left strung up behind.

Squeezing himself between the two of you in bed, which is fine, until Rafayel wakes up with a foot in his face, apparently, the passive nature disappears when he's asleep.

After waking up for the eighth time with his son starfished

"Now I know why some animals eat their young."

"Rafayel!"

Rafayel loves his little twin, though (the cuteness aggression he gets looking at the product of your love).

masterlist

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Not now!

Notes: masterlist \ Part 1

Summary: Your husband is calling you, but a little gremlin keeps declining it.

Tag: @teewritessmth @mitskunicheesecake @rcvcgers @vspxriddles @iloveh4nge

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Zayne

Zayne sat in the doctor’s lounge, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the call ring. Once. Twice. Then—

Call Declined.

His brows furrowed slightly. His hands, steady enough to perform the most delicate heart surgeries, tightened around the phone. He tried again.

Ring. Ring.

Call Declined.

Zayne exhaled slowly through his nose, his grip relaxing, Maybe you were busy. You were probably playing with Elias or cooking dinner Mayne in the shower? He wasn’t the type to overthink, but something about the repeated declines made his stomach twist in a way he wasn’t happy about.

Still, he didn’t want to be a nuisance or cause you unnecessary troubles. He wasn’t the type to text “Call me” like other husbands either, He just sat there for a moment, staring at his phone, before getting up and heading back to work.

He had patients waiting.

Back home, Elias sat cross-legged on the couch, his tiny fingers curled around your phone. Every time it vibrated, his eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he pressed the red button.

“Papa’s calling,” you pointed out, watching from the kitchen as Elias, without a second thought, hung up again.

He didn’t say a word. Just held the phone like a little dragon hoarding treasure.

You wiped your hands on a towel and walked over, sitting beside him. “Sweetheart, why are you declining Papa’s calls?”

Elias finally looked up at you. His expression was unreadable—so much like Zayne’s that it almost made you laugh. After a moment, he mumbled, “He’s busy.”

You blinked. “That’s why you’re hanging up on him?”

A short nod.

Your heart softened. Elias was a quiet child, much like his father, and even at four years old, he had an odd way of thinking. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t being stubborn. In his little mind, he just thought he was helping.

You smiled and ran a hand through his soft raven colored hair. “Baby, Papa wouldn’t call if he didn’t want to talk. He’s probably on a break and missing us.”

Elias frowned slightly, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He shifted on the couch, staring at the phone. “…Oh.”

You chuckled. “Should we call him back?”

Elias hesitated, then nodded.

Zayne was halfway through reviewing a patient’s chart when his phone vibrated.

Incoming Call: My Love

His fingers moved instinctively, answering before the first ring finished. “Hello?”

“Papa.”

Zayne blinked. It wasn’t you. It was Elias.

The little voice on the other end sounded almost… guilty?

“Elias.” Zayne glanced at the time. “You should be in bed soon.”

A pause. Then, in a quieter voice, “…I hung up your calls.”

Zayne froze. He hadn’t expected that. His first instinct was to ask why, but before he could, Elias continued.

“You were busy. I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Zayne’s grip on the phone tightened. He looked down at his hands, But right now, his own heart ached in a different way.

He wasn’t good with words. Never had been. But there was one thing he knew.

“Elias.” His voice was firm, steady. “You never bother me.”

Another pause.

Then, a quiet, “…Oh.”

Zayne exhaled. “Is Mama there?”

You took the phone, laughing softly. “Your son thought he was being considerate.”

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he did.” His voice was softer than usual. “Tell him he can always pick up my calls.”

“I think he understands now.” You turned to Elias, who was now curled against your side, looking deep in thought. “Say goodnight to Papa.”

Elias hesitated, then muttered, “Goodnight, Papa.”

Zayne swallowed. He wished he was home.

“Goodnight, Elias. I’ll see you in the morning.”

When Zayne finally stepped through the door that night, the house was quiet. You were already in bed, and Elias was asleep in his room.

Or so he thought.

As he passed Elias’ door, a tiny voice mumbled, “…father?”

Zayne stopped. Slowly, he pushed the door open.

Elias was sitting up in bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Zayne hesitated. He wasn’t good at this. But he walked inside, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out with his small hands and grabbed onto Zayne’s sleeve. Not saying anything, just… holding on.

Zayne stared at him before sitting on the edge of his bed.

Then, without a word, he gently rested a hand on his son’s head.

It wasn’t much.

But for them, it was enough.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Xavier

Xavier stood in the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield, his sword still dripping as he exhaled. The fight had been over in minutes—another nest of Wanderers cleared out.

He wasn’t in a hurry to return to headquarters. Instead, he yawned and pulled out his phone, pressing your number.

Ring. Ring.

Call Declined.

Xavier stared at the screen, brow twitching slightly. That was odd. He tried again.

Call Declined.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn’t a man prone to overreaction, but something about his own family declining his calls irritated him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe you were busy. Maybe—

He teleported.

One second, he was in a ruined village surrounded by monster corpses. The next, he was in the living room of his own home.

The sight that greeted him made his left eye twitch.

Leo and Livia—his five-year-old twins—were sitting on the couch, your phone between them, giggling.

Livia saw him first. Her eyes widened, and she smacked Leo’s arm. “Abort mission! Papa’s here!”

Leo nearly dropped the phone. “Crap.”

Xavier didn’t speak for a moment. He simply stared, exhausted, disappointed, and vaguely impressed all at once. “…You two.”

The twins immediately shot to their feet, but it was too late. He was already in front of them, towering over their tiny forms. His sword was still strapped to his back, his hunter uniform stained with dried Wanderer blood.

They didn’t look scared. If anything, they looked ready to bolt.

“…Explain.” His voice was even, calm—but that made it worse.

The twins exchanged glances before Livia, ever the mastermind, said, “Mom said you were busy!”

Leo nodded rapidly. “Yeah! You were fighting monsters, right? We didn’t wanna bother you!”

Xavier sighed through his nose, rubbing his temples. “You declined my calls.”

Livia pouted. “Well… yeah.”

He inhaled deeply. He was not good at this. Discipline, affection—none of it came naturally to him. He could gut a monster in seconds, but parenting? That was an entirely different battlefield.

He crossed his arms, giving them a firm look. “That’s not happening again.”

Leo groaned. “But why? You never talk much anyway!”

Xavier blinked. He squatted down to their level, eyes narrowing. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”

Livia elbowed Leo. “Idiot. Now we’re really in trouble.”

Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted beyond belief. He should just pick them up and force them into a timeout—he had the strength for it. But before he could, Livia clapped her hands together.

“Leo, Plan B!”

Leo gasped. “Yes, Plan B!”

Xavier frowned. “What the—”

Before he could react, Livia sprinted left while Leo ran right.

Teleportation was an option, but honestly? He was too damn tired. He just sighed and walked toward the kitchen, knowing exactly where they’d end up.

And there you were, standing at the counter, watching the chaos unfold like it was a normal Tuesday.

Without looking at him, you asked, “I take it you figured out why your calls weren’t getting through?”

Xavier leaned against the counter, exhaling. “Your kids are demons.”

You raised a brow. “My kids?”

He gave you a tired look. “They didn’t get it from me.”

Before you could argue, the sound of a crash echoed from upstairs.

A beat of silence. Then Leo’s voice: “I’LL FIX IT, I PROMISE!”

Xavier closed his eyes, counting to ten.

An hour later, the twins sat on the couch, pouting as Xavier stood in front of them. He wasn’t a loud father. He didn’t yell. But his silent disappointment was somehow worse.

“You’re not getting out of this,” he finally said.

Livia crossed her arms. “It was for a good reason.”

“It was for a stupid reason.”

Leo kicked his legs. “But we didn’t wanna distract you.”

Xavier sighed, rubbing his face. “…You’re my kids. You can always talk to me.”

Livia blinked. “Even when you’re fighting monsters?”

He crouched down, staring at them. “Especially then.”

For the first time, the twins looked guilty.

Xavier softened just a fraction. He wasn’t great at showing affection to kids. He wasn’t the type to hug them randomly or constantly hold them. But he reached out, ruffling their hair roughly or cuddle up with his little demons.

“Next time you hang up on me, I’m making you run laps.”

Leo gasped. “That’s child labor!”

Livia clutched her chest. “You’re cruel, Father.”

Xavier stood, sighing. “You’ll live.”

That night, when the twins were asleep, Xavier sat beside you in bed, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know how to handle them.”

You smiled, playing with his hair. “You’re doing fine.”

He scoffed. “They don’t listen to me at all.”

You chuckled. “They do. They just like pushing your buttons.”

Xavier sighed, leaning into your touch. “…Next time they ignore my calls, I’m teleporting them into a cold lake.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sure you are.”

Xavier didn’t respond. He just yawned, closed his eyes, and finally—finally—slept.

[lemonlover1110]

Sylus

Summary: Sylus struggles to put your baby girl to sleep.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

You’ve never thought you’d find Sylus in this situation. You’ve pictured your husband doing a lot of things– But this? Never in a million years. 

You want to step into the room, but you can’t allow yourself to interrupt. The scene fills your stomach with butterflies, and reminds you why you fell for him all over again. The man really has a softer side that many don’t get to witness. You see it often; but no one will see it as much as her.

“Twinkle, twinkle– I guess you don’t like it.” Sylus’ singing is cut off by his baby’s cries. He’s rocking her back and forth, hoping to get his baby girl to fall asleep. He promised you that he’d take over so you could take the night off, but tonight his babygirl is as energetic as ever.

Though the singing stops, the crying doesn’t. He shushes her before telling her, “I promise I won’t sing again.”

The shrill cries stop, but his baby’s eyes are still wide open. She’s a difficult one to fall asleep, and he knows exactly who she got that from. Offering money won’t work with her yet, so he’s forced to play a waiting game. 

“I’m trying to spend time with your mom, love. C’mon, help me out.” She laughs at the tired look on her father’s face, and Sylus can’t help but smile. She’s laughing at his misery, but at least it’s a cute laugh.

“I’ll get payback one day.” Sylus says as he lifts her in the air before blowing a raspberry on her tummy. Another laugh comes from the little one. He kisses her chubby cheeks, pure joy overtaking him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, I’d be mad otherwise.” He tells her, earning a coo from the energetic girl. He chuckles.

“I can handle her.” You finally step into the room, cutting off the sweet moment between Sylus and your baby girl. You don’t want him to get frustrated with her, even when he looks overjoyed to just hold her.

“It’s fine.” Sylus assures you. He’s smiling down at her. “I can handle my little sweetheart.”

[abyssyby]

off guard on duty

— the big twins watch the little twins for a day and long for what they think they'll never have.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: my babies my angels my loves ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ sylus is just a dad of 4. here's a silly little fic about the big twins watching the little twins. they have a great time. let me know what you think of this one lol, it was super fun to make! enjoy! ❀-urs important heads up for context of this story: kyros and lucian are (my headcanon) sylus's twin boys. around 3 years old at this time.

kieran, luke, lucian and kyros highlight!! | sylus x reader | fluff, angst, softbabysitter!twins, mom!reader, sufferingdad!sylus, bigtwins are also sylus's sons change my mind?? tw: separation anxiety/tantrums, past abuse mentioned (pls let me know if I missed any!)

Don’t drop them.

Don’t lose them.

Dinner is at six.

Easy enough. They’ve gone through more difficult missions before. Covert ones, requiring meticulous planning and great improvisation. 

Kieran prides himself in being able to execute seventeen different kinds of strategies to take down a group of thirty men within 5 minutes. Luke can persuade anyone into doing anything, and eliminate them— without a trace—if they don’t comply. Exceptional mercenaries. Isolated ghosts. Nothing is impossible.

Perfectly capable babysitters, if you ask them. 

How they made the silent twin wail like a siren and the rambunctious one sit still was beyond them.

“Papa!” Kyros screams, blotchy red cheeks puffed and damp bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. He presses himself against the heavy main door, as if forcing himself to walk through, stretching his little limbs and straining his ankles to reach the knob. “Papa! Papa!” 

“Keero mad.” Lucian blinks, staring at his brother across the room, snuggled against his mama’s blanket. Your scent envelops him, helps him stay calm in your absence. You had left for your mission earlier that day, and Lucian has since finished his little tantrum, as evidenced by his own salt-crusted cheeks.

Luke and Kieran are a mess, to put it mildly. 

“It’s okay, little boss,” Luke tries to say, pulling the toddler away from the door where Sylus had just left from. Kyros gurgles a desperate sound as he weighs himself down to the floor in protest. “Big boss will be back.” 

“Papa!” Kyros cries, calming words falling on deaf ears.

“I don’t think he knows who ‘big boss’ is.” Kieran, equally panicked but hiding his racing heart behind calm breathing, offers. “Little boss, papa will be back.”

Kyros seems to scream louder at that, stomping his little feet and running off to the crevice by the door. He squeezes himself against the corner and sobs. Fat droplets of tears streaming down his swollen cheeks. Heartbreakingly resembling an abandoned hamster.

Kieran’s arms fall to his sides—how? How is this little one such an angel during play time and…? Have they done something to upset him? Does he not really like them? Is this how he finds out that a child can have preferences and can choose not to prefer them? 

Before Kieran can spiral deeper in self-pity and throw Luke off with the swelling emotion in his chest, in their periphery, they see movement from the couch. Lucian, wrapped in his mother’s blanket, waddles over to his brother and gives him a little hug. “Squeezy-squeeze, Keero. No cry.”

Luke blinks at the sight. The realization comes to him in the form of a distant sensation— freezing cold cells, the deafening bang of a metal door and him, anguished and ashamed, crowding Kieran close to the corner of their room where they held one another—high on sedatives— after they had just torn each other apart to survive another day. 

With that, he moves slowly, approaching the little twins with caution and then opens his arms. “Kyros?” 

Lucian makes way, and at the sight, Kyros scrambles over to Luke and buries his hiccups in his chest. He engulfs him in a hug, mindful of the pressure he applies with his arms and how that would translate to a little body like Kyros’s. Pressure, deep, deep pressure tethers him back to them. 

Kyros deflates, nuzzling his wet little face into the fabric of Luke’s turtleneck. He can’t be bothered by the snot, relieved that the boy has begun to stop crying. 

“Papa will be back.” Luke says quietly, making sure to press his lips into the baby’s head so he can feel the sound. Something he’d observed you and Sylus would do to him. “Kieran and I are here.” 

He exhales when he realizes Kyros doesn’t struggle. That he is allowed to comfort him like his parents do. 

“Be back now.” Kyros murmurs, genuinely thinking big, strong Luke and Kieran can do something about it. 

“Later.” Luke assures him. “Just out on a mission.” 

“No, ‘ishun.” he shakes his head, eyes glassy and pleading. “No, pease?” 

“Sorry, buddy, Papa’s work is important.”

“Maybe we can do something else? Like… hide & go boom?” Kieran offers, mirroring the quiet voice and lifting Lucian up into his arms as well. An effort to put them all on equal footing. 

Lucian nods. “Yes.” 

Kyros shakes his head. “Don’wanna.” 

“Okay, that’s fine.” Luke nods, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “How ‘bout the hammock?” 

Kyros shakes his head again, much to their disappointment. 

Kieran racks his brain for ideas. Were it not for the devastation on the little boy’s face, he would have found it funny that he gets to see how Sylus would cry, if he were a small toddler. Lucian and Kyros look so much like Sylus, they might as well be triplets. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees the coat closet open, and an idea is born. “Hey… wanna see papa?” 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“Get out.” Kieran rasps, pushing his voice deep into his chest. He stands in an imposing pose, chin jutted out to accentuate his jaw and squinting his eyes to be half-lidded and bored. 

On his shoulders was Sylus’s brown leather coat, on his feet were Sylus’s large shoes and on his head… was Lucian. Serving as a giggly white wig on his hair.

“Give us the brooch!” Luke demands, Kyros in a baby carrier strapped tightly to his chest. He wore your hunter gloves on his thumb and forefinger, far too small, and Kyros held an empty water gun. 

“I hid it, go find it.” rasps Keiran again. Poorly hiding the cough that rips through his chest. 

“Where, papa?” Kyros giggles as he’s swung around. Luke makes exaggerated movements of disbelief. 

“Here.” cough. “There.” cough, cough. He rubs his throat and swallows drily, brows knitting together as he breathes out with great difficulty, “Somewhere.” 

Lucian— a sentient wig, apparently— points to the playroom. Kyros nods in understanding.

“Fine’da boots!” Kyros wriggles, willing Luke to march forward. Luke hobbles into the playroom and puts Kyros down, who dives into his toy box. Kieran follows with Lucian.

“Keero, no there!” Lucian says, scrambling off of Kieran’s shoulders, hitting him in the eye— both big twins wince— and sliding down his leg. 

“Don’t tell him, Cian, we’re team papa.” Kieran chuckles, rubbing his eye as he sinks onto the floor to watch the little twins. Something swells in his chest as he watches the two executing his little mission— an affirmation that he’s done something worth their time.

Luke pauses from searching for a clue. He asks, because it matters to the story, “Wait. Does that mean we’re team mama?” 

“Boots?” Kyros asks, holding up a toy fork. 

Lucian swats it away, “No!” 

Kyros continues his search, asking everyone if whatever he was interacting with was a brooch. 

“Boots?” He asks, bouncing on the trampoline. 

“Boots?” As he slides down the playset.

“Boots?” As he carefully stacks the colored rings into a wobbly tower. 

 Boots? Boots? Boots?

“I don’t think he remembers what the brooch looks like.” Luke finally says, after minutes of watching Kyros turn the place upside down. 

Lucian has since joined, and the moment he pulls out the plastic bathtime boat and presents it to them with a hopeful, “Dis boats?”— Kieran is sure he has forgotten now too. 

“No… uh…” Kieran thinks, lips quirking to the side. He tries to explain what the small, metal pin looks like to the toddlers again. They stare at him with wide, clueless eyes, feigning comprehension. “It’s black and has a bird— a small black bird in the middle,” he says, motioning towards Luke who points at the drawer it was in.

Lucian nods first. “Ohh…” 

Kyros hops up with a newfound fervor. “Bird! Ya, bird!” 

“Yes! Bird! Do you remember n— HEY!” 

In a flash, Kyros has tugged his brother out the door and the pair sprint down the halls. Kieran scrambles to stand, feeling his knees pop at the quick motion while Luke slips and tumbles on the rug trying to get to the door. He blinks back the black and white dots from his vision as he runs.

“Wait, wait!” Kieran begs, listening to the echoes of laughter down the halls to follow. Luke is already swiping through the security camera feed to locate them.

The boss is going to kill them. You’re going to kill them dead. 

The giggles resonate throughout the halls until they are confusing. Kieran swears he hears Lucian down the left and Kyros down the right, but Luke just saw them together on Camera 8. 

“They’re—they’re teleporting!” 

“Do they have evol? I’ve never seen them—did you hear that?!”

“Part boss? Did you spot wings?!” 

“Quiet! Let’s…” 

They stop. An argument between them brews just in the horizon when the silence swallows them whole. 

“Where are they?” Kieran glances at Luke’s phone. His jaw sets. Swipe after swipe through the camera feeds, they finds no trace of them. Luke’s hand begins to shake.

Kieran’s comments don’t help. “… I don’t like that.” Camera 13— empty. “No, no, I hate that.” 

Luke shakes his head as helplessness consumes him. “They’re invisible.” 

“Stop it.” 

Chills trickle down Luke’s spine as he hears faint laughter echo down the halls that he fails to localize. “Were they even real?” 

Kieran shoves his brother. “Listen to yourself!”  

Don’t lose them. 

Before their hysteria escalates— praise be— they hear a very distressed squawking. With a look, they take off left. Boss’s office. 

There they find Lucian balanced on his father’s chair— round belly dented over the head rest, stretching to reach the charging perch, little hands grabbing the mechanical bird by the neck. Kyros stares up, holding the other boy’s legs as to not let him fall. 

“Kee-wan, bird!” Lucian says proudly, wiggling in his already precarious state. Kieran feels his life force in his throat as he rushes to get him down from the chair. Palms cold and clammy, fingers trembling and struggling to get a grip.

Don’t drop them.

“Boots!” Kyros proclaims in a shout. It still surprises them how loud Kyros can actually be. “Pisto boots!” 

“Mephisto was not the br—“ Kieran’s mouth is slapped shut as Luke cuts him off with cheers.

“Little bosses found the brooch!” Because he can’t have them running off to find any other thing they think is the brooch again. He can’t do it. His head is still spinning from his wipe out. He curses under his breath, silently checking— just in case— for little wings. 

The little boys scream in delight. Kieran softens at the sight, silently grateful his brother cut him off. Who would want to miss this? 

He pries Lucian’s fingers off of Mephisto gently and places the bird back on the perch. “Nice job, kids.” 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Dinner comes at six o’clock. Sylus had put his boys into a routine so well maintained that the sound of the clock striking six wasn’t a bell, but his son’s growling stomachs.

“Papa made you squash.” Luke says, taking it out the fridge and heating it. Meanwhile, Kieran buckles them in their ridiculously luxurious high-chairs. “And fish…” 

Luke pauses at the note written on top of the bigger container of meat and potatoes. Reads: Big Twins in handwriting they’ve only seen on under-the-table-offers, bidding slips and ledgers. He tries not to let it get to him, takes it out and heats it as well.

“Papa home?” Kyros asks, although this time with more curiosity than despair.

“Not yet.” Kieran tells him, giving his shoulders a grounding squeeze.

It doesn’t escape them how they’ve been calling Sylus “papa” all day too. How it came so easily when the adjustment was needed. Somehow they can’t seem to stop. 

Luke serves dinner. Two ceramic plates and two silicone-suction-cupped bowls. 

Lucian’s nose knocks into a palm as his path to his food is blocked. Kieran chides, “It’s hot.”

Lucian blinks at Kieran, who is still wearing Sylus’s coat and shoes, and tilts his head in amusement. Something connects in his head and he giggles. “Like papa.” 

Kieran’s face flushes, and Luke howls in laughter as he takes that in too. He hurls the silicone spoon at his brother like a javelin, and through his laughter, Luke catches it with ease. Straight to the sink it went and a new spoon is handed to Lucian. 

An unspoken truth passes between the big twins, a dawning that settles in them like warm milk on a sleepless night, as they feed their corresponding little twin. 

This is their life now— not just running errands, killing, and negotiating for Sylus, no matter how much they enjoyed that. How that put them into use. How that gave them purpose. A reason to exist in this world that hated them enough to maim them, and strip them of who they were only to throw them away. Because even then, they were still worth nothing. 

Now, in the soft glow of the kitchen light, eating the food Sylus had prepared them, feeding their charges. They see, they hope: this—this is who they are. Not machines, not weapons—boys, brothers, parts of this family. No matter how fleeting it may all be. 

They doubt it, but they feel it. In the way you check up on them when they come back from a mission, in Sylus’s silent but kind regard, in the little twins’ comfort and acceptance. Despite their shortcomings, their differences, they have found a place here. And maybe one day, the masks will come off and they will be nothing, thrown away once more— but what a wonder to have had this all the same.

“Kee-wan, Wook,” Lucian tells Kyros, pointing a chubby little finger at the wrong twin as he says it. Pulling the two out of their spiraling thoughts, different but grounded in the same soil. 

Kyros shakes his head calmly, chewing on the soft squash Luke fed him. He points correctly, “Wook. Keewi.” 

Seeking confirmation, Kieran gives Kyros a thumbs up. The little boy grins a proud orange smile, squash and all. Meanwhile, Luke teaches Lucian the differences— “Kieran’s head is this weird sha—ow!”

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

You’re still snickering at the video footage Mephisto sent you of Sylus lingering on the front door from earlier. Head devastatingly pressed to the wood, a white fist around the handle as his son screamed for him to come back on the other side. 

“It was terrible,” he tells you. His hand hovers on your lower back as you both ascend the pathway to the base. 

You offer him a sympathetic smile and squeeze his shoulder. “I know.” 

“We’re back!” You announce as the door is pushed open. Sylus slips in behind you.

It takes a moment for the footsteps to emerge, but they do. They always do. Only it wasn’t just the two light-footed ones’ you usually hear. Accompanying them was the sound of loud, bounding leather boots. 

“Mama!” Lucian screeches, little legs pumping to get to you. Leading the charge. Behind him, his brother— face scrunched in solemn determination, trying to catch up. Eyes zeroed in on his papa. And behind them…

“Stop! Ow, Mephisto! Kieran, get him!”

“I’m trying— He’s— OW!” 

The mechanical bird nosedives towards the two larger twins who struggle to catch their wards and fight off the bird at the same time. You giggle at the sight, and you hear Sylus chuckle the faintest bit too. 

Both on your knees, you each catch a twin, showering them with affection. Leaving the base for work has been harder than ever since these two gained the curse of existential dread and skill of object permanence. 

“Papa home!” you turn at your Kyros’s voice, who pats his father’s hollow cheeks softly. Meant as a happy report rather than a guilt-tripping accusation. Still, it prickles Sylus’s nose red as he tries to swallow the emotion that rises with the memory of his son’s cries. 

He presses his nose into his angel’s silver hair and breathes him in. “Brave boy.” 

“Mama!” Lucian says, both hands on your cheeks, turning your gaze towards the fumbling big twins. He points, correctly this time to each. “Kee-wan. Wook.”

You squint, taking note of the differences despite their movement and then beam. “You’re right!”

He giggles like a pebble skipped over a frozen lake when you pepper his face with kisses. 

“Mephisto.” At Sylus’s command, the bird ceases. It flutters to a nearby shelf and tilts its head as if nothing happened. 

“Were Kieran and Luke good babysitters?” Sylus asks. Even if he knows, Mephisto having sent automatic updates on his twins’ mishaps.

The little twins nod happily in response, then came the litany of warbles meant to be a retelling of their day. Two baby birds with their mouths wide open trying to string together something coherent. 

You and Sylus catch ‘keewi papa’, ‘boots’, ’boats’ and ‘pisto mad’. Understanding was half the battle when both your boys told stories with such vigor. You struggled to keep them in your arms as they ‘swoosh’ed and ‘fwish’ed, reenacting as if they could project their imaginations to the wall for mama and papa to see. 

Sylus turns to the big twins who listened proudly. Given they had context, they seemed to understand more than the parents did. He raises a brow, squinting slightly at Kieran to make sure, then asks, “Are those my clothes?” 

Kieran jumps, tongue in his throat. “I—“ 

“Looks good on you.” Sylus says so casually it was unbelievable. Lucian nods in agreement, “Like papa!” 

“Wook squeezies.” Kyros mentions as well, pointing at Luke, who had calmed him earlier. He nods in approval, swinging his feet. “Like Wook squeezies.” 

“Looks like you guys did really good,” you commend, walking over to the big twins. You brush a feather out of Luke’s hair, eyes sharp as you secretly check for scratches from their earlier bird-attack. Luke flinches at the contact, and you point at his forehead knowingly. “Ice.”

He hesitates, then gives a bashful smile. Rug. Right. “Oh, that’s… psh.” 

You promise to get him some. And before you forget, you add, “Thanks, guys.” 

“Faithful minions—“ 

“—at your service.” 

The tired grins on their faces make your heart clench. That… doesn’t feel right. The silence that follows is hollow as the weight of their own words settle into the space between them. Is it possible for them to believe that’s all they are? Help? Followers only good for their hands to take orders? The mere thought settles like bile on your tongue. 

You shake your head at the ridiculous notion and prop Lucian up on your hip. “Tell your brothers goodnight, Cian.” 

Lucian extends his arms and Luke plucks him from your hold. Easy and familiar, Lucian presses his forehead on each one’s like a lion cub. “Na-nite.” He whispers.

And just like that, they feel the warmth that radiates off of the little one so overwhelmingly. Just as they do pain, they feel this too— this thing that neither of them have the words for yet. But it is heavy as it is true. Lucian’s hands touching their faces, the gentle repose of your eyes work wonders to cast away old, haunting thoughts of being lesser than or temporary. 

Kieran holds him a little longer. Luke stares. For once, they have no strategy, no words, no logic or skill to make sense of the feeling. Standing there, in silence, they choke on something so difficult to swallow.

You make a mental note to treat them to something fun soon. Hang out with them like you did before the little twins came along. Maybe Luke would appreciate an opportunity to redeem himself in laser tag, or Kieran would like to play a video game again. You’ll make the time.

They freeze when you press a chaste kiss to each of their cheeks, then pass Lucian back into your arms. Without another word, you turn towards the kitchen to hunt for something frozen and something to eat. Nodding along and offering “ah-huh”s and “then what?”s as Lucian’s weaves a colorful, jargon-laced story. 

Sylus follows after you, Kyros already snuggled to his chest with half-lidded eyes and fingers clutching his shirt. He pauses, just as he walks past the twins. A heavy air hangs between them, but it isn’t suffocating. Not tense, or harrowing. Come to think of it, they haven’t felt that in ages. Not since Sylus. 

The air was just… firm. Stable and calm. 

“Thank you,” he says to them, holding their gaze with a reverence that they’ve never noticed before—one they had only ever mistaken for dismissal. But now, really looking, they see it. What Sylus truly feels for them— proven in the trust he had placed in them. Gratitude in the way they cared for his kin, just as he once cared for them; taking them in despite their troubled beginnings.

Pride, in its full glory. 

He is proud of them. 

And as if Sylus sees the gears turn and lock into place in their heads, as if he has been welcomed into their twin loop at last, he smiles—careful and sincere. “Get some rest.” 

Kyros waves a sleepy little hand at them as they go.

Alone, Luke and Keiran turn. Faces reflecting each other. Once never needing a mirror, now taking in the flustered, upside-down smiles pulling at the corners of their lips. They shake their heads at the impossibility of it all. And yet. 

A home, a family. Despite their past, their sins and their scars— 

They are enough. 

Finally, they belong. 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more little twins ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading! 。゜゜(´ｏ`) ゜゜。

[xavistarlight]

Pilot caleb headcanons

Caleb and his little family take a flight together જ⁀��

Pilot!Caleb who takes you and your daughter on a well deserved vacation, him as the pilot of course.

Pilot!Caleb who announces that you and your daughter are on the flight.

“hello passengers it’s your pilot for today Caleb speaking , clear skies are expected for our journey in air today, today’s flight will be an hour and 40 minutes. I would also like to inform you that my daughter and wife are on the flight today.. hi baby girl be good for mommy”

Your daughter starts cooing loudly recognizing Caleb’s voice the passengers on the plane all adorned by the sweet encounter.

Pilot!Caleb whose most nerve racking flight is the one with his family on it, he just wants to make sure his girls are safe at all times.

Pilot!caleb who is torn up at the fact that he can’t be with you knowing you have flight anxiety internally hoping having him as your pilot brings a sense of peace.

Pilot!Caleb who packed a bottle of milk along with his coffee making sure to hand it to the flight attendants before the flight to give to your daughter, knowing milk always soothes her to sleep.

Pilot!Caleb who engulfs you and his baby girl in the warmest hug after landing.

[lemonanddeepspace]

Zayne

Summary: Zayne's daughter comes to him with a surprise

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“Daddy.” A loud whisper interrupts Zayne’s focus, tearing his eyes away from his book. He furrows his brows as he looks at his little girl, walking to him with a closed fist. He’ll try to remain confident as she walks over. It almost feels like a threat.

“Jasmine, if that’s a bug, throw it out.” He warns her, feeling as if his heart is about to beat out of his chest. Zayne isn’t particularly scared of bugs, but Jasmine just happens to find the biggest ones– At least she won’t need anyone to save her from them.

“Mommy’s asleep.” She answers, walking over to him and opening her hand. She reveals two pieces of candy that she had managed to steal from your purse. The strawberry bon bons that her grandma usually gives her when she visits; the same ones that you hold for safekeeping.

“My love, we shouldn’t.” Zayne shakes his head as she walks over to him, crawling onto his lap. You’d be so upset right now if you saw them. Jasmine is taking candy from your purse, and Zayne is enabling it.

“It’s okay, she has a lot.” She reassures him, but that’s not his issue. Twenty years into the future, this will be something that they’ll be able to tell and laugh about, but right now he sweats.

“You can’t do this, my love. It’s stealing.” He reprimands her as he takes the wrapped candy. It won’t be the last one this happens, especially not when Zayne unwraps the candy and pops it into his mouth.

“It won’t.” She nods, a serious look on her face as she affirms her understanding. She still follows her father’s lead, and unwraps the candy.

“And after you finish, brush your teeth, okay? You can’t leave a trace behind.” Zayne tells her, and she nods once again, taking his words very seriously. He lets out a low chuckle before kissing her temple. At least she’s considerate enough to think of him.

[pookiesylus]

✧.* Announcing your pregnancy to Sylus ✧.*

You and Sylus have been quite…”active” recently. Sylus has been trying a new workout routine, and let’s just say, it’s really been showing results.

The morning after a night of “cardio” with Sylus, you decide to get a proper pregnancy test done at the hospital just to be safe. They run some tests, you pee in a cup, and…

“You’re pregnant.”

You freeze, heart racing as you cycle through an array of emotions from the doctor’s words. Your hand slowly grazes over your stomach as a new warmth flowers in your heart. A baby. Your baby…

Sylus’ baby.

Your eyes widen, “I have to tell Sylus!”

Given how observant and sharp Sylus is, he’d be able to figure it out no matter how hard you’d try to hide it. He knows your behaviors, your scent, and he knows when it changes. In order to surprise him with this news, you’d have to tell him today.

After leaving the hospital, you head to the mall remembering that one children’s store you and Sylus would always pass. The same one that elicits Sylus to make teasing comments like,” Want to shop in there, kitten? If you want, I’ll give you a reason to.”

Now here you are, and it seems that Sylus did in fact give you a reason to shop here.

You looked around for an outfit that would be cute for the announcement, but they didn’t have much of a selection. That was until you found a baby-sized leather jacket, almost identical to the one Sylus owns. Though it’s not very comfortable looking, it will do for your purposes.

Once you got home, you find Mephisto on his perch, and tell him your master plan. As soon as you finish, the door unlocks.

There he was.

The father of your child, wearing that same leather jacket.

“There’s my girl.” He slowly walks in. Cups your face, and kisses you tenderly.

“Is something wrong?” he says noticing the anticipation in your eyes.

“No, nothing’s wrong, but I do have a surprise for you.”

“I always like your suprises.”

You gently grab his wrist, and guide him to sit on the couch. You sit down next to him.

“Mephisto,” You nod at the little mechanical bird. Sylus smiles and tiles his head, finding your silent gestures adorable.

“Sylus, put your hands out.”

Mephisto who flew to the next room over, now carries a jumbled ball of leather. Sylus slightly squints unable to make out what’s in his beak.

“Did you shrink your clothes in the dryer, Kitten?” he chuckles deeply. You nudge him teasingly.

Mephisto softly bows, dropping the ball of leather before Sylus’ hand. You can see his realization materialize as he unravels the jacket.

He goes quiet, and looks at you.

His eyes searching for answers.

“Sylus,” you stand up in front of him, while holding his hands. “I’m pregnant,” you say, eyes brimming with nervousness and joy.

He gazes up at you. Awestruck.

He swiftly stands up, sweeping you off your feet, twirling you around, then pulling you in closer than you’ve ever been before.

His eyes sparkle as he looks down onto you. “We’re really going to have a baby, sweetie?”

“Mhm,” you hum, the tears finally streaming down.

“Oh, Kitten…”

Sylus meets your lips, your worlds colliding. He dips his head into your neck, letting out a huff from his unexplainable emotions.

You lift his head up.

Tears.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen tears from Sylus’ eyes.

As you move your hand to wipe them away, Sylus pulls your face in, only inches from his.

“Y/N. I swear that I will always protect you. Both of you. I'll keep you both safe, no matter what. Even if the whole world turns upside down, I'll stand between you and anything that tries to hurt you. I just—“

"I Iove you so much,” he kneels down, laying a kiss on your tummy. “And I love our baby too.”

[sayangrafayel]

Rafayel talking to his kid

Rafayel: Okay, fishie. If a stranger came up to you and tell you "hi I'm your father's friend", what would you say?

Kid: You're a liar because my dad only has three friends and one of them is my mom.

Rafayel: Good job!!!

[cosmoszyn]

zayne with a five-year-old daughter who loves carrots.

in fact, her absolute favorite—the one she looks forward to every single meal as her current hyperfixation.

as his wife, you try not to feed him meals that consists of what he calls an abomination of a vegetable. but as the mother of his daughter, however, you knew her nutrition comes first and your husband’s pickiness comes second.

so when dinner rolled around serving your two sweethearts some curry, you can’t help but always be amused by the scene across you.

zayne picking apart his food, setting aside the carrots while your daughter reaches over to his side and jabs into the vegetables using her fork all the while conversing with each other.

“and then daddy she turned into a silly red panda! but she didn’t tell her mommy at first…” your daughter babbles, licking the sauce off the crevices of the carrot.

“why didn’t she?” zayne muses, scraping another one onto the side of his plate.

your daughter takes a big bite of the vegetable before standing from her chair again, one hand propped on the dinner table and reaching over to the discarded food from her father’s plate.

“i dun’ know…” your daughter mumbles a reply, her tongue sticking out from the corner of her lips in concentration as she attempts to prick onto the carrot. zayne watches her focus on her mission with a slight tug on his lips, trusting that she will complete her task successfully.

and when she manages to pierce through the vegetable, a large grin forms in her face, “but i think she was scared of her mommy, daddy,” your daughter finally replies.

zayne hums, watching her stare at the carrot with awe. you can’t help but return the gesture to your small family. your hand reaches over to zayne’s, lightly clasping over it.

“zayne, honey, are you sure she’s your daughter? she’s looking at that carrot the same way she looks at you,” you ask with that teasing lilt.

your husband turns to you with that deadpanned expression you’ve accustomed with when you say something absurd.

but before he can even provide his usual remark, your daughter exclaims, “daddy is my daddy! he needs to eat carrots too!”

now how is he supposed to reject the love of his life like that…