#trait: DS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jane-the-good · 4 months ago

Text

Wander In Wonder: CALEB

WORD COUNT: 3.7 K

SUMMARY: Fantasy AU! You escape the confines of your life in search of one that is your own choosing. Caleb finds you along the path he was destined to keep and offers to guide you to live a life of safety and peace

AN: Caleb wasn’t here for Wander in Wonder, so I made it happen ◡̈ I love piecing the tiny details of the Caleb we know and love into things like this. I really wish this was real for him!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, oral sex, mentions of explosions, combat fighting, death ♡

AO3 caleb masterlist

The cold is a living thing, curling around your skin, creeping into your bones, burrowing deep. It does not simply cling, it seeps, sinking past flesh and sinew, winding itself through your ribs with roots breaking through it’s cracked stone. You press your back against the rough bark of a tree, but there is no shelter here, no warmth. The wind howls through the trees, a mournful, unrelenting thing, whispering through the hollows of your ears, stealing what little breath you have left.

Your limbs are leaden, heavy with exhaustion, your breath thin as if the air itself refuses to fill your lungs. Every step that brought you here was a battle, against the waves, against the cold, against the weight of your own survival. You left the island behind, the place you once called a sanctuary. Now, with distance stretching with you and that lonely shore, you see it for what it truly was.

Not a refuge, but a cage.

Not safety, but solitude.

In the vast, endless dark of this unfamiliar land, you wonder which was worse.

The night presses close, the wind a whispering thing, threading through the trees. You clutch at your chest, fingers digging into the skin above your heart. The sacred gem pulses beneath your ribs, its light faint against the cold that has turned your body to ice. Someone is coming. Someone who will carve it from your flesh, who will steal its power and leave your corpse in the dirt.

Your vision wavers, your eyelids too heavy to hold open. The cold is a tide, dragging you under. You let it take you.

Firelight flickers, carving shapes into the dark. Warmth surrounds you, strange yet soothing, pressing against the cold that had seeped into your bones. The scent of burning wood curls through the air, and the dull ache in your limbs is softened by a heat that is not your own. You shift, barely, and realize, your body is pressed against bare skin.

Your eyes snap open. A man sits beside you, his chest bare, his arms wrapped around you, anchoring you to the present with his warmth. His grip is steady, his touch so careful. He does not flinch when you meet his gaze. He only watches, calm and unreadable, his dark eyes deep as an ocean.

“You were close to death,” he says, voice low releasing embers still holding heat. His eyes flicker with something unreadable, not pity, not fear, but understanding.

You do not fear him. There is no greed in his expression, no shadow of the hunger that has chased you across land and sea. The gift within your heart reveals truths, and in him, you see something rare, something safe.

“Who are you?”

He exhales through his nose, as if already tired of the question. “My title is Protector of the Sacred Path.” The words come out stiff, almost begrudging, in a role he never truly chose, “But my name is Caleb.” His voice softens, as if that’s the part that actually matters. “And you?”

You hesitate. The question shouldn’t be difficult, but it is. You’ve spent so long being something to someone else, a runaway, a target, a vessel for the thing inside you, that you never stopped to consider who you might be if given the choice.

“I don’t know yet,” you admit.

Caleb studies you, and for a moment, you think he might press further. But he smiles, small, understanding. “Fair enough.”

A silence settles, broken only by the distant crackle of the fire. He speaks again.

“If you’re running from something, you’ll always have an eye looking over your shoulder.”

You let out a breath. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

His expression flickers in thought but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods. “Okay. I’ll help where I can.” His voice carries a quiet certainty, holding a promise he doesn’t expect gratitude for.

Gentler, “Where can I take you?”

You swallow, feeling the weight of your answer. You are exhausted, frayed at the edges. Your entire life has been spent fleeing, surviving. Safety has always been an illusion, a concept dangled just out of reach.

And yet, when you look at him, the thought doesn’t feel so impossible.

“To safety,” you whisper at last.

His gaze holds yours for a moment longer, something knowing in his eyes. He nods.

“Then that’s where we’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile plays at his lips, not mocking, not dismissive, just quiet, understanding exactly what you mean. "I know the perfect place. A place to live a life. one that’s yours.”

You study him, searching for deception, but there is none. Only patience. Only quiet resolve. The fire crackles, warmth reaching into the empty spaces you had long stopped trying to fill.

“And what do you call this place?" you ask, tilting your head slightly.

His smile deepens, though it still holds something wistful, something you cannot yet name. "You'll see."

A beat of silence stretches, but it is not uncomfortable. It is something else entirely, something fragile, gasping for the first breath after nearly drowning. Neither of you acknowledge it. Neither of you have to.

Instead, he stands. A pause, a breath, a choice. He offers you a hand, and you take it.

Through tangled forests and winding roads. Through ruined cities swallowed by ivy and the bones of bridges long since collapsed. He moves as a shadow at your side, constant and unwavering. He is sharp edges and quiet loyalty, a presence carved in heartbeats. He does not ask for explanations. He does not flinch from the weight you carry. When danger rises, he meets it with steel and certainty. When the cold creeps in, he presses closer. He is a promise of warmth.

At first, it is survival. A necessary truce. Two souls moving in the same direction simply because neither has anywhere else to go. But the road is long, and silence is a fragile thing. It breaks in small, stolen moments.

Awoken so thirsty in the middle of the, you feel him shuffle from beside you. The cold winds slipping through the gaps of what was, just a moment ago, guarded by his chest. He hands you your shared vessel of water. “There’s not very much left, but it’s warm.” Your fingers brush his as you take it. You both still, as if waiting for something unspoken to surface. But it does not. Not yet.

A day beneath a sky stretched wide and endless, the hush of wind through empty fields. He finds an overgrown orchard and plucks a piece of fruit, tossing it to you with a half-smile. “They taste ancient, in a really bad way.” You take a bite. It tastes like dust. He was right. But it also tastes like laughter held too long behind teeth.

A moment at dusk, when the world is painted in shades of dying light. The fire flickers low, casting long shadows, stretching time thin. You remember the first moment you saw him. The silence is not heavy, but fragile glass on the verge of breaking.

You feel his gaze before you meet it, a pull as inevitable as the tide drawn to the shore. He’s watching you, not like a question, but like an answer he hasn’t yet learned how to say.

“Didn’t know you hummed,” he says, voice quiet, rough from the long day of hiking.

You blink, caught off guard. “I didn’t either.”

His lips twitch, almost in a smile, but something softer. “Why?”

You hesitate, fingers curling around the worn fabric of your stolen cloak. “I think…” You exhale, shaking your head. “Maybe , for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I have to be quiet.”

He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t let you fold into yourself the way you usually do when words feel like too much. Instead, he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, the short depth between you shrinking with each breath.

“I really like it,” he murmurs.

The words settle deep, an unexpected warmth blooming in your chest. It’s terrifying, how easily he gets past your walls, how his presence has become something steady, something certain, and necessary.

The fire crackles. The wind stirs the trees. And still, neither of you move.

When he reaches out, you’re not surprised, you know he isn’t either, yet he is still slow and careful, as if giving you time to pull away. He cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing a path so light it could be mistaken for hesitation. But there is no hesitation. Only the unbearable tension of something long overdue.

You tilt your head. His eyes search yours, and you don’t know if he’s asking for permission or waiting for you to break first.

You break.

The moment your lips meet, the world exhales. It is not desperate, not rushed. It is quiet, steady, the kind of kiss that doesn’t demand, but simply is. His fingers tighten against your skin, as if grounding himself, as if making sure you’re real. You thread your hand into his shirt, holding onto him using the weight of the moment as an anchor.

When you part, the absence is almost unbearable. He lingers, his forehead resting against yours, breath unsteady.

“Seizing what’s yours looks gorgeous on you.” He speaks without even thinking about processing his words. “I’m so proud.”

You climb on to his lap, to make him more proud. Enjoying how the sounds of the leaves fade when his mouth is on yours. His arms hold you with treasure and care, not wanting to let you go but giving you the freedom to move as your please. The rock under your bent knees scrapes each time you grind on his lap, but he will take of any wounds later.

You pull away from his lips to better worship is jaw and his neck and his collarbone and his chest.

“It was very kind of you to save me that day.” Your hands caress the sides of his torso with care before you guide his blouse over his head. “I thanked you many times, but I don’t really know if you felt it yet”

You pull at the laces on his pants.

He exhales a quiet laugh, but there’s something raw in his expression, something that flickers. restraint and surrender. “Should we slow down?” he asks, and there’s no reluctance in his voice, only care. One of his hands finds yours, stopping your movements with a featherlight touch.

“I don’t know,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “I really don’t want to.”

You both know how hard he is, the inevitability of it, the way you’ve been circling each other for so long that stopping now would feel like denying gravity.

“We don’t have to go to the stars,” you murmur. “We can just explore the path.”

You shift his hand from yours, guiding it to rest at the crown of your head, before resuming the deliberate task of unlacing his pants.

His fingers curl at the nape of your neck, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I can never deny you,” he breathes.

The sound that escapes him when he’s finally freed from the constraint of his pants is nothing short of beautiful, raw, helpless, edged with relief and want. It ripples through you, sinking deep, settling low. And in that moment, you understand, this must be how he felt when he told you he liked your humming. Like hearing something so unexpectedly intimate, so undeniably yours, that it becomes a song he never wants to forget.

You gently grasp his base with both of your hands so you can kitten lick the tip, trying to discover what he likes the best. You lift your gaze to meet his eyes, searching for a flicker of reaction. He stands frozen, caught in disbelief and awe. You slide one long lick along the underside of the base before wrapping your lips around him.

“Darling, you are an other worldly treasure.” His head falls back.

You hum in response while sliding him in and out of your mouth. His hand on your hair tightens when you swirl your tounge around his tip. His moan settles between your thighs and climbs up your spine.

You glide one hand to cradle his balls and he involuntarily thrusts forward, sending him to the back of your throat, forcing you choke.

“I’m sorry, love, are you alright?” And when he pulls away just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing against your cheek, his voice is nothing but devotion.

You swirl your tongue again and his head leans forward in blissed defeat. His breathing picks up and you feel him pulse against your tongue. His moans are so encouraging, you feel them in your own core. He is so close.

and just when you think you have him in the palm of your hand,

His hand pulls, swift, sure, from your hair to your shoulder, guiding you away with a touch that is both careful and desperate. And then he is on you, over you, pressing you down beneath him. The tide pulling the shore into its depths.

His lips find yours in a hunger that has been simmering beneath the surface, now set free. It is not a question. It is not hesitation. It is the inevitability of gravity, of two bodies drawn together, of something too long restrained finally breaking loose.

“I have never actually thanked you, for falling into my life” He grinds against you

His hand slides up your thigh, a slow, deliberate ascent, before guiding your leg around his back, anchoring you to him, as if you could ever drift away. His mouth maps its way down, pressing reverence into fabric, into skin, through your breaths. And when he finally stops, his breath is warm against your pulse, against the place where need and anticipation blur into something electric. Your leg drapes over his shoulder in a claim.

His voice is barely a whisper, but it hums through you like a vow.

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

You would do anything for him.

“Anything you desire.”

His mouth finds you almost instantly, a breath, a press, a kiss through fabric that leaves you unraveling beneath him. The sensation is so consuming, you barely register the hand ghosting up your hip, the slow, practiced tug of your underwear slipping lower, lower. Only when he pulls back do you realize, he’s peeling them from your legs, his gaze dark, reverent. Drawn by instinct alone, he lifts them to his nose, breathing you in like something sacred before leaning down once more, intent on finishing what he started.

You already knew his tongue is divine at teasing you with words, this is so different.

“Caleb.” You arch in bliss.

One hand finds your clit, teasing, circling, setting you alight, while the other wraps around himself, stroking in time with the rhythm he’s building. His moans are a melody against your skin, low and reverent, vibrating through you until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. When you breathe, it barely feels like breathing at all, just a sharp, shattered thing, like air tangled with want and oblivion.

“Come with me darling.” He is desperate and demanding.

You see the stars, but not just the ones you expected. There are infinitely more, stretching vast and endless, and for the first time, you’re not just looking at them. You’re feeling them. You’re part of them. And the only thing more breathtaking than their glow is the quiet, steady presence of him with you.

You return to earth in gasping breaths, your body still singing with the echoes of him. He shifts, gathering you into his arms, pressing you, cherishing how precious and irreplaceable he has known you to be.

“I’m so grateful for you,” he murmurs, his voice rugged with something deeper than exhaustion.

Your fingers trace your name onto his chest. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

He hums, pulling you onto him, wrapping the cloak from beneath you around both of your bodies, cocooning you in warmth. His hand moves in slow, absent strokes along your back, grounding you, soothing you. The weight of the day settles over you both, but for once, it doesn’t feel heavy. It feels safe. Because you are here. Because he is holding you.

It would be easier to call this survival. Easier to blame the loneliness, the way time and distance have frayed you both down to something raw, and searching. But the thought lingers, soft and certain words. Was it not someplace I left for, and instead someone? What if it was always meant to be this?

You do not know the answer. Perhaps you never will. But as you walk beside him, step for step, heartbeat for heartbeat, you know this: you are not alone. Not anymore. And for the first time in a long, long time, maybe never again.

The sanctuary is within reach when they come for you.

They strike as wraiths in the dark, wrenching you from Caleb’s grasp before you can scream. His warmth vanishes in an instant, replaced by the crushing grip of your captors. Rough hands pin you down, the cold press of steel against your chest. Then, pain. White-hot, searing, as they carve toward the gem buried within you. You thrash, but their hold is unyielding. Your own screams rip through the night, swallowed by the clash of steel, the guttural cries of men falling, falling to him.

Caleb fights as a man possessed. His voice cuts through the chaos, raw with fury, desperation, his only focus is you. He carves a path through them, reaching for you. He’s almost there. Just a little more, just a moment longer,

Then, an explosion. The world tilts. A shockwave tears through the field, slamming into you in a tidal wave. Sound collapses into a void. The night turns to ruin.

When your vision clears, the world is unrecognizable. Ash hangs in the air, thick as fog. The ground is littered with bodies, lifeless. Your stomach twists as you search for him. The second you see his body, the breath is stolen from your lungs.

Caleb.

He lies amidst the fallen, a broken thing in a world still reeling from battle. His body, too still. His arm, mangled, ruined, the ruin of it staining the earth beneath him. No, no, no, The word thrums through you, a desperate, useless plea. Your limbs barely obey as you pull yourself toward him, the ground unsteady, your breath shattering in your chest. Your hands find his face, trembling violently, as if trying to will him back, as if trying to anchor him here, here, with you.

"Caleb," you whisper, in a voice that is barely there.

His skin is so cold. You didn’t know that was even possible for him.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were so close. For the first time in centuries, you let yourself believe, truly, foolishly believe, that you could have something safe, something real. That you could be more than a shadow passing through time. Caleb made you feel like a person, like you could live, not just endure. Like you deserved to. And now, now he’s slipping away.

The cruelest part is that you can’t follow.

And now he’s gone.

Tears blur your vision as you clutch him. You should have been the one to fall. You should have saved him. But you weren’t given that choice. You were cursed to endure, to outlast everyone, no matter how much it destroyed you.

A sob rips from your chest as you press your forehead to his. "Please," you whisper. "Please, don’t leave me."

But the night gives no answer.

“No,” you whisper. “Not you. Not after everything.”

Your vision wavers, grief turning the world to nothing but shadow and ruin. You press your forehead to his, breath unsteady, heart aching in a way no magic, no curse, no wound has ever made it ache before. “Thank you,” you whisper, the words fractured, breaking apart as they leave you. “For everything. I never would have have experienced what living could be, without you.”

A sob tears through you more jagged than his broken dagger. Only one regret lingers, one thing left undone before fate rips him away. Your hands shake as they cradle his face, as you press your lips to his, soft and lingering, a farewell etched in sorrow.

Your heart clenches.

And then, it beats.

Once. Twice.

A pulse tears through your chest, light, warmth, and something else. Something ancient. Something eternal. The gem hums, its vibrations spilling outward, threading into his skin like tendrils of life. They wrap around his still form, caressing, binding, as if pulling him from the abyss with unseen hands that have always known him.

A gasp shatters the silence.

Caleb jerks upright, breath torn from his lungs as though ripped back from the brink. His fingers dig into your arms, grounding himself in the shock of existence. His eyes, wild, disoriented, lock onto yours.

"Why are you crying?" Are you hurt?” he asks, voice thick, oblivious.

A breathless laugh shakes through you, disbelief and relief tangling in your ribs. He doesn’t understand. Doesn’t realize he was gone. That you are the reason for his living.

Your heart beats again, but this time, not just for survival.

This time, it beats for him.

He pulls you into his arms, as if to shield you from a danger already past. Concern flickers in his gaze, as if the tears in your eyes are the only thing that matters..

The protector of the sacred path was destined to protect this path that you walked upon to seek understanding.

The power within you, the eternal blessing of the gem, was never meant to be stolen. Never meant to be wielded through blood and sacrifice.

Amplifying the reason it beats through unwavering, selfless, boundless, tender and unconditional devotion.

A heart cannot be ripped out, and divided to be shared.

It can only be given freely.

136 notes · View notes

sefynarose · 9 months ago

Text

as someone who loves all the characters from lads I feel like as a member of society i gotta churn out some Xavier content like i dont draw but i need to come up with something…i will not let yall do my boy like this

#like are yall looking at his POTENTIAL #golden retriever with Doberman traits like come ON ladies #i thought he was a fluffy baby boy at first too but once i dived deeper??? he made the list #yall gotta peel open his layers like an onion #and stop being mean to him! he’s innocent!! (minus the murder of his comrades for us$#lads #love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #lads xavier #l&ds #xavier lnds

23 notes · View notes

kagooleo · 1 year ago

Note

hi just wanted to say i looove your johto designs!! they sound really endearing from the delightful little notes in the tags, and your work has a ton of personality i always love seeing it pop up on my dash :,) best of luck with your school stuff

aw tysm! I loveee coming up with various character ideas for each of em and giving it my own spin (and ty also for reading my tags! i have. many thoughts stewing in my head as I'm trucking thru all my classwork o|-<)

#gooptalk #i base some lil traits on various features per game iterations (ie: ethan being a photographer for gsc/hgss photo taking options)#gameboy photo printing feature and card swipers;;; how i miss when tech was so funky and funny #their starter choices and personalities and time period affect designs bc i do heavily miss the old clunk of pokemon tech #comparing how modernized a lot of the old design aspects were is a wild difference #i know rotom tech is the thing that's currently In but i'm a person who liked when the dexes looked like a ds/gameboy/flip phone #maybe it's a preference thing :/c idk I've been replaying the older titles lately so I like to think my joh's are living in the 2000s era #that's just my ramblings tho lmao :> you've got some awesome work on your end too! nice to meet ya :D

9 notes · View notes

isame-allen · 2 years ago

Text

I love studying ☆(≧∀≦)☆

#yes that is horror ds just found out abt it recently #‘oh but why are you taking notes???’ that’s my toxic trait or guilty pleasure or whatever it’s called #I study ballz deep in a fandom that I like/want to get into #‘why tho?’ let’s find out together bro #I wish I can stop this thing I have #isaacballz #random

3 notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

Text

TW: yandere boyfriend, some toxic traits

gn reader

Thinking about a bruiser boyfriend who loves it when you kiss his bloody knuckles after he’s finished beating someone to a pulp—who loves to grope the fat of your ass and thighs, sink his fingers into the plush, knead you like dough while sinking into the comfort of your lap face-first—getting all woozy with groggy moaning when you run your hand through his hair.

A rough boyfriend who kisses you oh-so-terribly softly—but who, no matter how gentle he tries to be, can never truly mask just how brutishly strong he actually is. You can always feel the burden hiding in the pressure of his fingertips lingering on your skin, doing everything in his power to hold back the full weight of his true power.

A big brawny boyfriend who gets fed up with you sometimes—who, instead of yelling and cursing, instead just picks you up over his shoulder like a sack of flour and pays no mind to any of your protests except for a light slap on your ass, holding you there while you bang away at his back with balled fists, telling you he’ll let you down once you’re down acting like a brat—but who, at the same time, whenever makes you cry, gets down on both knees and puts his forehead to the floor, crawling forward until he’s right by your feet, kissing your ankles until you forgive him.

A trigger-happy, prone-to-jealousy boyfriend who squares up at any given chance when he thinks someone’s flirting with you, who barks just as hard as he bites and will happily sleep in a jailcell any night if it means he got to knock someone's teeth out for talking to you.

A massive boyfriend who loves drowning you in his clothes, who wants you to wear them always—who just shakes his head when you tell him it’s not flattering to your figure and tells you that nothing in the world suits you better.

A ride-or-die boyfriend who tattoos your name on his bicep and talks you into getting his name on your ass.

A no-filter boyfriend who tells you that he’d straight up murder you and bury you in his backyard if you ever dared leave him, who doesn’t give two shits whether it’s cliché or not—if he can’t have you, no one can.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji ♡ DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

5K notes · View notes

kaiserthebiter3 · 7 months ago

Note

can I request lads men as dads with little babies with mc?

tysm love your hcs!

L&ds men as dads

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus (headcanon)

fluff

requests are open :)

Xavier

● Xavier would be nervous to know he'd be a father soon , he never saw himself the person who is good with kids

● however once your child was born , everything was different , all the nervousness and the doubts are gone , he adapted so quickly , like he was meant to become a father all along.

● If you had a son, they’d quickly become "best buddies" as Xavier loves to call their bond.

● He’d be the type of dad who spends hours playing sports in the backyard whether it’s football, volleyball, or anything involving a ball.

● however if you two had a little girl , it would be harder for xavier to find activities that they'd both enjoy , but eventually he'd join her tea parties with enthusiasm.

● he'll buy her doll houses , every once in a while him and his daughter would go shopping for a different doll house, by the time he'll develop an interest in them himself.

Zayne

● hands down would be the best father if he wasn't as busy as he is , he loves his kids to death , especially that both of your kids had taken traits from you , their mother , it's like he is raising mini yous sometimes.

● As a doctor, he’s a bit strict about their diet , candy is definitely not an everyday treat in his house.

● he loves to take the three of you out whenever he's free , like trips to the aquarium , the amusement park etc..

● At bedtime, he tucks the kids in and reads them stories. Like all kids, they beg him to read the same story again once it’s done, and he usually gives in once or twice before firmly telling them it’s time to sleep.

● he'd help them with school homework as much as he can , especially in math since he knows how much you dislike to deal with it .

● would probably be scolding his kids and you included for playing outside when it rains , and you'll all come to him with a runny nose.

Rafayel

● he is a girl's dad probably , he likes to take his daughter shopping , absolutely spoiling her with toys and dresses , to the point where you scold him for spoiling her a little too much .

● like xavier , rafayel would also sit down at her tea party and join her in the playful gossip sessions .

● when he kisses you on the cheek , he'd tell the kids to come join him and kiss your cheeks as well "mommy deserves the best kisses in the world" turning it into a family tradition.

● in times where his kids are awfully naughty and tire him out , he'd come to you complaining "I didn't know that our kids would all be stubborn like you , I should've thought twice before getting you pregnant" and you'd roll your eyes everytime.

● His artistic talent clearly runs in the family , your kids quickly pick up on how to draw and surprise everyone with their impressive skills at such a young age.

● whenever he's away for work , he'd video call you to check in on you , and asks you to hand your phone to the kids so he could talk to them as well.

Sylus

● I feel like both of his kids would inherit his personality , and you always tease him how they're always "itching to fight" , just like their father.

● he loves braiding his daughter's hair , and not only when she asks him to , he genuinely enjoys it and finds it calming.

● His little son constantly argues with Sylus over you. Whenever Sylus kisses you or has you seated on his lap, his son tries to claim you with his tiny hands, declaring, "that’s my mommy"

● the kids love their father's cooking , he rarely cooks considering him being busy most of the time , but when he does you all enjoy it .

● He insists on having Mephisto watch over the kids at kindergarten , you always scold him for sending a mechanical crow to a school full of children , but he says it's the best way to keep tabs on who's around them .

● on rare nights when he’s free, Sylus surprises you and the kids with little gifts , something meaningful for you and small toys for them, proving he’s always thinking about his family even when he’s away.

#l&ds #lnds #love and deepspace #sylus #rafayel #sylus x reader #xavier #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace headcanons

758 notes · View notes

digi-lov · 6 months ago

Text

Bukamon EX8-002 and Crabmon EX8-017 by Iori Sunakura from EX-08 Extra Booster Chain of Liberation

147 notes · View notes

dreamsofmoney · 8 months ago

Text

-> L&DS Sylus x reader

GN!reader, sub!Sylus who resists but defeated at the end, dom!reader (kinda mean and harsh reader), slightly yandere Sylus, suggestive but nothing explicit

Sylus is portrayed as very dominant in game, the first meeting with him alone is enough to give a clear understanding of what kind of person he is (or at least how he wants to show off in front of others) : a strong and ferocious man whose authority rules over everybody around him.

For that reason, it was quite a shock for him to witness you being so daring around him during that night, the one after he had saved you from those delinquents (more like kidnapped you, but he sees it differently) .

To think that you were so helpless just a few hours ago when he had found you and kept you safe in his mansion ; at night you were suddenly brave enough to enter his bedroom, quietly pushing the doors, stepping in as quickly as a little mouse. While he was sleeping, you carefully took his large hand, clasping the handcuffs on his soft wrist and attaching the other end to the bed frame.

Sylus was a light sleeper, the minimal sounds of the bedsheets moving, the click of the handcuffs or even just your steady breath were enough to avert his attention. As the predator that he usually is, the white haired man was ready to pounce on his prey, catch it, and imprison it again for daring to prowl around him.

He was just about to open his eyes, until he felt a ghostly touch on his bare shoulder, going down to his chest, pushing the thin blanket further away. Now he could only feel amused by your manoeuvres ; really, the little hopeless prey he saved was taking their chance in seducing him with their charms, right in his moment of vulnerability in the middle of the night? He restrained a smirk forming on his lips. But what could happen anyway after he takes the matter in his control?

All of a sudden you grip Sylus's chin in your left hand, making him wince under you. He lets out a grunt when he feels his teeth clench under your grasp, urgently alerted by your actions he glares towards your direction but he can't see you yet. The lights above blind him and he can only make out your silhouette on top of him : one thing that he is sure of is that you're smiling widely at him, as you let out a quiet guttural laugh, mocking his reaction.

However, Sylus is a man who knows how to keep calm and stay level-headed.

" The little bird came for somethin'? " he teases between his gritted teeth. Sylus wonders what exactly has motivated you to act like this; perhaps revenge, perhaps you've realized he is your savior and you've grown a liking into him, hence your seductive approach for the night - or something far more sinister is in your plans.

Silently, you trace your right handed fingers over different areas of his upper body, your soft feathery touch lingering and making him shudder. Although he keeps his composure stable, you can feel the goosebumps of his skin and his body hair rising up. He grows impatient of your little game, as you keep playing with him and you tighten your grip on his face, you know it's only a matter of time until the tiger snaps : you must tame it quickly.

You push the blanket further down, revealing more of his naked body ; the coldness that hits him makes him tense even more, his glare becomes more menacing, trying to pierce right through you and yet, you keep an immutable tranquility in your movements. Suddenly, you violently turn his face to the right, Sylus lets out a small gasp, then he feels a crushing pain in his left wrist, his arm forcibly pinned above his head. He ignores the pain and when he turns his gaze back at you, you tower over him, you're much closer, he can finally observe the traits of your face from up close. He notices this intense shining in your slitted eyes, with a big grin plastered on your face, somewhat of an evil look that he cannot help but find adorable too. You seem amused by the situation, while Sylus cannot feel more frustrated than now, he's not in for the teasing and playing around anymore.

"Birdie I don't know what you're trynna do here, but I suggest you to stop. Prying on me so noisily, with this kind of ridiculous method and accessory isn't gonna lead you to a good outcome."

"No. You just don't understand what's coming for you Sylus, and you had no idea of what I am capable of when you decided to bring me here. Now I'll show you just that."

Sylus frowns his eyebrows at your answer, utterly astonished and confused by your words.

The swift touch of your right handed fingers comes in contact with the supple skin of his chest again, lightly pinching at it here and there, then caresses up his neck, while a subtle pressure between his legs makes him impulsively squirm underneath you.

"I'm sorry Sylus, but I'm the one keeping you trapped this time."

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Obviously this was inspired from the first encounter with Sylus in game and the moment when MC comes into his bedroom to steal the brooch. I really liked that moment in the game so I wanted to give it different turn hehe.

Writing is so hard!!! It's been so long since I wrote anything and this is my first or second time posting a drabble on here - I don't remember - so please do share, repost, like and comment if you like it and if you want more. Don't hesitate to come chat with me too if you wanna!

Also, excuse me for any spelling mistakes and grammar errors, english isn't my first language and I learn my language the way I eat my ice cream : messily.

#lnds #lads #l&ds #l&ds sylus #sylus #yandere sylus #sub sylus #sub!yandere #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #I listened to flyleaf while writing this #it inspired me idk why lol #dom reader #dom reader x sub sylus

346 notes · View notes

43501 · 2 months ago

Note

Do you have any headcanons about what L would be like in a romance? Your vision of Near literally blessed me and I hope you can do L justice, since in the media people see him as not caring about a potential partner and that leaves me disappointed :(

I'm absolutely thrilled and charmed you've liked what I've spun about Near, I'm devastated to admit I don't think I can do L justice to this degree… he's wonderful, but I'm not an L scholar who can write (stops writing this reply to check how much I've written on Near) 10,000~ words worth of ardent meta about him… but I'll talk a bit about him and write out the headcanons I do have.

Scrutinizing everything Ohba and Obata say about L in all of their interviews, it's clear to me they originally envisioned L as a bit heartless. But all Death Note media since - the anime, the films, the Change the WorLd novel, the J-Drama, the DS games, the musical - all favor an interpretation of L that's more compassionate and human. I have a crackpot theory that fan reception and Alessandro Juliani's (award-winning, I remind you) performance in the English dub influenced this shift, in a similar way to how a couple of Japanese videogames around that time got re-released in Japan with script changes influenced by English localizations (such as Treehouse's localizations for Animal Crossing: Population Growing! and Animal Crossing: Wild World).

Example: in HTR13, Ohba and Obata say that L was lying when he called Light his first friend. No other media since treats this as a lie. Especially in Change the WorLd - L wears Light's watch for the remainder of his life. Also, the novel and film are explicit that L is affected by the horrible things he's witnessed while solving cases and cares about justice for the victims. The novels aren't written by Ohba and Obata, but they did have oversight and endorsed M's work on publication (though perhaps not as passionately as Nisio Isin writing Another Note).

All this to say I think pinning down the "true" L is difficult. I will say that I reject any interpretation of L as callous and uncaring, the same way I reject interpretations of Near as wholly unemotional.

In romance, I think he is basically as he appears in "L the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap". He is enigmatic and somewhat difficult to earn the trust of, but he cares deeply about the people in his circle of trust. I don't have a screenshot on hand, but there's a line in the game where he says he'd be disappointed with himself if he ever let (you) get hurt or endangered. This is L. In Death Note's canon, we see similar things with the Japanese Task Force (recall how genuinely upset he is when Ukita dies).

Anyway, my honest thoughts on L romance, based on on a combination of the manga, anime and the DS game where the player can court him.

Earth-shatteringly good kisser, even though he's definitely never kissed anyone before. He's been orally fixated his whole life, he has S-tier instincts and rather lacks shame. Obviously, he's immaculate at oral sex as well. Just another thing in his long list of Mary Sue traits: genius savant, internationally recognized super detective, skilled at capoeria, English tennis champion... it's completely reasonable that this is just another one of those things he's perfect at on first try.

He's capable of being gentle but has a tendency to escalate - even brief, innocent kisses often spin out of control and transform into desperate grabbing and tangling tongues.

Verbally and physically demonstrative about his affections, when the mood takes him. L consistently shows himself to be a pretty bold personality who doesn't shy away from closing in on what he wants. He kind of just heedlessly does what he wants a lot of the time, doesn't he? That extends to when he wants to be around you, have your attention, be doted on, be entertained, kiss you, have sex with you etc.

In general, I would describe a relationship with him as "intense". He's an intense man. I can understand a dizzying range of headcanons for L, but any idea of him as "relaxed" or "shy" or "passive" or anything like that is just plain wrong and contradicts the person we see in every piece of Death Note media.

Thinks he's straight but is in reality gender agnostic when it comes to falling in love/being attracted to somebody. In Spiraling Trap he's confused if a male player gives him a Valentine's day chocolate, but in my view it's just because he's never given serious thought to himself with another man before. Once he starts developing a strong bond, he'll start to think differently and find that he thinks women and men equally appealing.

Has a bunch of kinks including (but not limited to) foodplay, shibari, feet (cliche but I really think so) and more I don't want to list here for fear of scaring people (nothing objectionable, just weird - by his own admission he's "strange").

For the life of me I can't imagine him as asexual, but if he is, he's the kind that finds sex and kink incredibly interesting on an intellectual level and likes to observe, even if he doesn't partake.

While writing this, I kept feeling compelled to compare him to Near, which is really funny and meta. Near was intentionally written by his authors to have a lot of L's traits as his "natural successor", but at the same time he's his own, completely different person. I don't mean to derail this into a Nearpost so I'll be really brief.

Broad strokes: As a lover, L is intense, confident and open. Near is subtle and withdrawn.

Both men prefer an educated, clever partner who can keep up with them intellectually, but their relationship secret spices are different. L is drawn to people who are interesting and offbeat in some way. Near is drawn to passionate, emotional people who he admires and feels invigorated by.

Things they have in common in love: they are both used to being waited on and getting everything they want, and so expect to be pampered (L with desserts, Near with requisition lists for toys). Detective work takes a lot of their time and they don't want a demanding partner who asks for a lot of time and attention. They don't suffer fools. They can be tactless with their partner on various matters, but don't mean to be malicious.

Things they're very different on in love: L can be fickle and mercurial, Near is more reliable and steadfast. L expresses his feelings verbally quite openly and enjoys just spending time with his lover, Near relies on gift-giving and physical affection to express himself, forever feeling a little shy and poor with words. L enjoys sex and is a natural at it, Near could go without and is average at best even with practice (sorry).

Now let's look at some pictures from Spiraling Trap together. (takes your hand)

(Isn't it wild how this game suggests that he would consider granting his detective code to his lover on his passing if he had one? Fuck them Wammy's kids, I guess.)

#death note #meta #l lawliet #l x reader #l

149 notes · View notes