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1-delululand-1 · 6 days ago

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plot: when you're about to argue but you're so pretty that his brain short circuits (all lads men)

rafayel:

when your phone rang early this morning while you were on your morning jog with a panicked rafayel on the line, you knew what he was calling about. yesterday while you were visiting rafyel’s studio, you found it in disarray. paint, brushes and a variety of different papers littered any and all surfaces. you usually asked rafayel when you throw away scraps in his studio, but this time the clutter was driving you mad that you just threw away anything in sight that looked like garbage.

“hey– sorry to call you so early in the morning. did you or thomas clean my studio yesterday? there was this sketch somewhere around here with a bunch of colors and scribbles for my exhibits that’s coming up and now I can’t find it–” busted. you heard the ruffling of papers through the phone as he frantically searched for it. the guilt washed over you as you tried to formulate what to say.

“i– i’m actually pretty close by. let me come over and help you find it.” he sighed in relief as felt like his drawing was saved.

“thanks, i’ll see you soon.” it was your turn to sigh as you continued your jog (now sprint) over to rafayel’s studio. you might as well use this time to try and figure out ways for him to forgive you.

you stood in front of the gate for a moment, chewing your thumb out of nervous habit before pushing through. you knew rafayel wouldn’t be mad at you, but just the fact you set back his work upset you.

upon entering, rafayel’s back was to you. one hand was in his hair, the other on his hip as if he was trying to retrace all his steps. but before your brain could even register, you just blurted out the truth.

“raf, i threw away the sketch– i’m so sorry! i was in here yesterday and the clutter was driving me insane! i couldn’t even get through here so i just grabbed things that looked like garbage and threw it away–” you had your eyes squeezed tight, not even wanting to see the potentially frustrated expression he was wearing. but when no response came, you peaked through your right eye to see that he was only blushing behind his own hand.

it didn’t register that you were wearing your workout clothes– a matching set that hugged your body, well everywhere. the top you had on was a fitted cropped quarter zip jacket and unbeknownst to you on your sprint over, it had unzipped all the way– your cleavage on full display. though your hair was tucked under a cap, the way it clung to your face and chest from your sweat didn’t go unnoticed by rafayel.

you couldn’t help but bite back a smile as you saw the tips of his ears go red. you decided you were going to use this to your advantage. inching closer to him, you clasped your hands behind your back which only pushed your chest out further. he weakly held up his forearm as he looked away trying to get ahold of any working brain cells, but he showed no resistance once your chest made contact. you rested your chin on top of his arm, looking up innocently at him.

“i’m sorry raf.. could you forgive me? i’ll clear my schedule and help you come up with another draft…” you spoke just above a whisper, afraid he’ll explode if you spoke any louder. a long (shakey) sigh escaped his lips along with what you interpreted as “you’ll be the death of me i swear…”

he fully turned toward you, one hand on your shoulder as the other one zipped your jacket all the way up to your neck. he cleared his throat as he cupped your cheeks together, swiftly kissing your pursed lips.

“you better keep your promise, cutie! we have a lot of work to do.”

zayne:

you did one last swipe of lipstick as you checked yourself in the mirror. you and zayne were going to an event hosted by akso, but zayne made it clear that there was a stritch one hour limit to say your pleasantries and then go home. sometimes these gatherings were entertaining but oftentimes they were grueling to sit through, even for zayne.

you stood up from your vanity, turning your body from side to side making sure that your dress was sitting in all the right places. gold embellishments hung from your ears and neck bringing the look all together. but in the midst of your review, you heard a series of ruffling and mumbling coming from the kitchen followed by your name. you reached over to open the door and called out to him.

“what was that, love?”

“did you eat the fruit tart in the fridge?” you froze in your spot. you totally forgot that tart was his and you had it with your lunch this afternoon. you zoomed out to the kitchen to see zayne looking into an empty pastry box and a dejected expression like you took candy from a baby.

“zayne– i’m so sorry i forgot that you said you wanted it and– .. i ate it” he slowly shifted his gaze from the empty box to you across the counter. your eyebrows were downturned and there was a big frown on your face. zayne always looked forward to having a sweet treat before these events, it was his reward for mustering up the courage to go. you should’ve known to save it for him, but your hunger got the best of you.

you rounded the corner of the counter, taking his hands in yours. your eyes on the verge of tears, as you continued on apologizing but all zayne could hear was blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff– your perfume, citrusy and sweet, enveloped him like a trap. with your eyelids sparkly, your lips all plumped and your hair pulled back to expose your shoulders, he couldn’t even comprehend your apology.

“okay, zayne?” he blinked once, only now registering that you’ve been talking to him the whole time. the blush immediately grazed his cheeks and ears as he looked away from you.

“it’s okay.. i forgive you.” he pulled you in by the waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath, letting the notes of your perfume be his treat until he was able to get one later. your fingers reached up to scratch the nape of his neck as you turned to kiss his cheek, not even noticing.

“i’ll buy you whatever you want from the bakery tomorrow, i promise”

caleb:

“you did what?!” you screeched to gideon over the phone.

“look, i didn’t have a choice okay? caleb can be very persuasive with that evol of his. i’m sorry but i didn’t want to lose my fingers” a big sigh left your lips as you ran your fingers through your hair. you had been taking some secretive pilot lessons with gideon to try and impress caleb on your next flight lesson, but you bit off a little more than you could chew and ended up with a big bruise on your abdomen.

“no, i get it. it was only a matter of time before he found out anyway. thanks though for holding out as long as you did.” you lifted up caleb’s shirt to take a look at your little accident. it was about the size of a grapefruit with hues of yellow, purple and blue painting your skin.

“no, me and my fingers thank you for being understanding. but you know the drill kid, ice and heat every 15 minutes.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah. you sound like–” before you could even say his name, you heard the clattering of the locks.

“gotta go, the colonel is in.” you quickly hung up the phone, looking around the bathroom for places to hide and decided the closet was your best option. you pulled the door shut, trying to close it as silently as possible upon hearing his footsteps approaching.

“pipsqueak.” not a question of where you were, but a known fact. you didn’t answer, choosing to ride this out for as long as you can.

“you can’t hide from me. you left your phone on the counter and the hallway smells like your shampoo.” damn his obsessive nature (and your stupidity thinking you could ever hide from him in his own place).

you held your breath as your eyes snapped to the handle. he was right in front of the door. there was a pause and.. nothing. his footsteps slowly faded to where the shower was, swiftly pulling the curtain back to expose an empty tub.

“come out, come out pips. i won’t be mad, i just want to see.” liar. you got the smallest scratch on your face from a mission and he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it for weeks.

there was no use in hiding anymore. you turned the handle, but didn’t open it all the way. he reached his fingers through the gap and opened the door to find you looking like a dog with its tail between its legs– looking down at the ground, arms guarding your mid section. caleb cautiously took you by your hands and pulled you out of the closet.

“let me see it.” he gently requested. you huffed as you carefully lifted up the shirt to reveal the bruise. he let out a distressed noise, quickly ridding himself of his gloves before his bare fingers grazed your skin.

“i’m fine caleb, it’s not even that bad–”

“not that bad?!” he exploded like a volcano that was waiting to erupt.

“pips, you have a bruise the size of a meteor on your stomach and it’s darkening by the second! what did you even do?” he took the shirt between his fingers, pulling it up even higher to inspect for any more damage. it was then that he realized that you were only in your bra and underwear with just his long sleeve to cover up. he took his moment to take you all in as he effortlessly towered over you.

hair wet, smelling like apples, in a matching set, in his clothes.. brain go brrrrr….

he didn’t know if it was his chip kicking in or his brain malfunctioning, but thank god you were looking away from him. he felt the blush spread throughout his face, every inkling of scolding you fading by the second

he cleared his throat, gently letting his shirt fall back into place as he gingerly wrapped his hands behind your back, pulling you close. burying his face in the hair, he let the scent of you calm him down. he just hated seeing you hurt, especially if there was a mark or bruise to show for it.

“i’m sorry. i was only trying to impress you for our next flying lesson and then the weather suddenly changed and then the throttle did a thing–and i got launched into the control panel and..” you admitted embarrassingly. he laughed as he pulled away, taking your cheeks into his hands.

“okay, okay. just next time please be careful. we don’t want you getting a bionic arm or anything–”

“CALEB!”

xavier:

exhaustion was oozing off xavier the moment he stepped into your apartment. his footsteps were dragging, shoulders hunched over, with a severe lack of motivation to keep his eyes open. it was a series of: lack of sleep, fighting off more wanders than he could even count and then doing that over and over again for the past week. his back and body hurt and all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a week undisturbed.

he ridded himself of his uniform, begrudgingly forced himself to shower, dried off his hair and plopped so hard on the bed it skirted and hit the wall. as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was already in his rem cycle, letting sleep take him for however long sleep would have him.

though he was a valiant hunter, he knew that your place was safe. so if he felt a bump or a shift in the bed, he knew it was only you. though he wasn’t expecting you so soon. even with his eyes closed counting sheep, he was able to feel you crawl over his body. your hair tickled his collar bones as you leaned down to shower him in kisses. from his neck, cheeks, forehead, with a final blow to the lips, he didn’t budge. he wanted sleep and so he was going to have it (even if it meant hearing from you later) but you didn’t relent.

you continued to lay kisses all over him, knowing that he’s done this to you before when you wanted to sleep but he wanted you to get up. you wanted his attention and much like xavier, you were going to have it. you held his face in your hands, laying loud kiss after loud kiss, trying to pull him out of dreamland but to no avail. you huffed as you sat your tush on his stomach. you moved his face from side to side before resorting to squishing his cheeks together.

there was a slight twitch in his eyebrows signifying to you that he was slowly waking up, which resulted in you poking and prodding his face. after several minutes of working like a cat clocked in at the biscuit making factory, he let out one final groan before his eyes barely opened.

“there he is.” you said sweetly. he huffed, turning to the side while covering his face to try and avoid your advances.

“no he is not…” you took that as a challenge, now wrestling with him to lay on his back. when xavier was asleep, he was like a log. with much resistance, he flopped on his back while you pinned his wrists above his head. he peeled his eyes open, ready to let you have it only to find you with your hair all disheveled, the top buttons of your pajama shirt all undone and askew with the faintest wash of pink over your cheeks.

“i just wanted some kisses and snuggles…” you admitted as you let go of his wrists. a sigh of defeat left his lips.

“well if you say it like that, of course i can’t be mad at you.” a giggle left your lips as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. it was his turn to shower you in kisses which you happily received. when the shower was over, you laid ontop of him with your face buried in his neck.

“i’m sorry i disturbed your sleep.. you can go back now. i promise i won’t wake you until tomorrow.” he nuzzled his cheek into your head, already mumbling a bunch of nothings into your ear.

“i love you too, honey.”

sylus:

“i said no.” sylus was being unreasonable. all you wanted to do was join him on an ‘auction’ to help him out. he had been stressed about it all week– skipped meals, jaw clenched in his (lack of) sleep, dark bags under his eyes– you haven’t seen him this stressed in a while.

“why not? you know that it would be easier with me there and i want to go, so why no–” he held up his hand to you, too focused on the papers in front of him to even look you in the eye.

“my decision is final. it’s too dangerous, i wouldn’t even go if it wasn’t a necessity.” you knew that he was only looking out for your safety, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. if he wasn’t going to willingly take you, guess it was time to take matters into your own hands. you didn’t utter another word, choosing to leave his office in silent rage.

once he knew you were out of sight, he heaved a deep sigh. he could feel the pounding headache coming on. removing his glasses, he leaned back onto his chair while squeezing the bridge of his nose. he was already trying to think of ways to make it up to you, though this one would be tough.

—

it was a few quiet days in the N109 zone. you decided to keep your interactions with sylus to a minimum, only greeting him the times he came to bed or when he came to dinner. he chose to respect that distance, trying to make the most out of the times you did give him the time of day. he couldn’t wait to get this mission over and done with.

then came the day of his departure. you weren’t petty enough to not send him off, especially on dangerous missions such as this one. the last thing that you always handed off was his leather jacket. you had done it the first few missions he went on, and from there it kinda stuck. send offs never felt right without it. as he loaded the last suitcase, you stood behind him with his coat.

he leaned in and gave your forehead a kiss.

“i’ll be back soon, kitten.” he mumbled the words into your temple. you offered him a soft smile before holding up his jacket. he swiftly dropped his arms into the sleeves, pulling it over his shoulders, now counting down the minutes until he could be back.

“i love you, get back safe.” you waved off him and the twins as you watched the car went off into the distance.

“you won’t have to wait long, dear.”

—

shit.

this was bad.

sylus knew it was going to be, but he hoped just a little that it wouldn’t be. removed the hand from his abdomen to check if the bleeding had stopped, but surely enough his hand was covered in his crimson red blood. he leaned against a wall, knowing that the twins wouldn’t be here another 30 minutes. he knew his regenerative powers could kick in soon, but he was sorely outnumbered. he heard footsteps behind him and what sounded like a “he’s in here!” and just as he was about to set his guns ablaze, he heard a few shots coming from that same hallway. he squinted his eyes as he concentrated on the commotion.

‘one… two…..three.. four down. who?? they’re not supposed to be there for ano–’ the door swung open and upon instinct, sylus swiftly held up his gun to the intruder ready to shoot. he never hesitated in his life, but something was telling him to do otherwise. his fierce eyes met your intense ones in the same position. you both retracted your weapons before sylus pulled you through the doorway, crashing your back against his chest.

“how many are left?” he leaned down and whispered.

“ten. five in the front and five in the back. the twins should be able to handle them. i took out all the ones in here for now.” for a second he breathed out a sigh of relief, leaning against you. sylus would’ve made it out, but certainly not in the best of conditions.

“why are you here?”

“i think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’” he rolled his eyes, turning you around to take you in. stunning, as always. your hair was a bit disheveled, straps fallen down to your shoulders and your dress was torn around the edges, but in this moonlight he was utterly captivated by you. all his anger and many of the words that he had for you suddenly flew out the window. he tugged your straps gently back up to your shoulders before giving you a kiss.

“i’ll deal with you when we get back.” you basked in his presence for mere seconds before smelling the copper in the air. you stepped back to examine him before your eyes landed on his hand. he showed no resistance showing you his wound, knowing that you were right and he was caught. a heavy sigh left your lips. you knew he would be back to himself in no time, but it reminded you that he wasn’t all that invisible.

“still think you don’t need me?” sylus chuckled as his face made its way into the crook of your neck, arms snaking around your waist. he took in one long inhale.

“... you changed your perfume.. that’s why i couldn’t tell you were here.” you laughed breathlessly into ear, but not before you heard more footsteps coming in from the hallway. you both tensed, trying to remain as silent as possible. he tapped two of his fingers on your left side signalling that’s where he was headed. but before you could move, he noticed a shadow coming from the window. he pulled you down, letting off a few rounds towards the window. it was seconds before all hell broke loose once again.

luckily you both were able to fend off the second wave until the twins got there. when it was all said and done, you two were able to make it out with a few bumps and bruises, you’ve definitely done worse. the car ride back was silent as you were taping up sylus’ arm. you knew he was angry at you, now having to be in pain because you didn’t listen to him.

“i don’t regret coming.” he wiped off some dried blood from your cheek, now his turn to tape up your wounds.

“i know you don’t.” the conversation settled back into a comfortable silence. he started by dabbing some ointment on your scratches.

“... and thank you.. for saving my ass back there.”

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1-delululand-1 · 8 days ago

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Sylus cockwarming pleaaaaseee

The Caleb one was sooo good

it’s late. you’re straddling sylus’ lap. pressed against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath you — calm. unlike you. who’s fighting the urge to rock your hips against him, struggling to stay still while your pussy’s wrapped around him. your head rests against his shoulder, his cologne making your brain mush, intensifying the intimate moment for you. all of your senses full of him.

he’s so big, stretching you out perfectly. you feel every inch of him — every throb, every twitch. so warm inside you. it’s overwhelming, but in a good way. how he presses against that perfect spot without even trying has your toes curling. you feel so full but so empty at the same time. your cunt practically drools all over him, like it’s begging for more, begging for some kind of movement. for anything.

but sylus doesn’t seem like he’ll fulfil that anytime soon. his gaze fixed onto the tv in front of him, one hand gently stroking your hair, the other resting on the small of your back. his breathing is steady. unbothered. like his cock isn’t buried deep inside you.

you whimper against his skin as your hips betray you, like it’s automatic, beginning to roll into his lap before you can even acknowledge it. tip nudging against that spot. your fingers dig into his shoulders, helping you lift yourself off him, only to fall back down afterwards, hearing a sharp breath escape from him. you do it again. and again. now building a rhythm.

“slow down.”

his voice is low in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you can sense the smug look on his face, as if he knew you weren’t going to last long. like he knew you’d be begging to be fucked sooner rather than later. just waiting for you to break first.

but you ignore him.

your walls flutter around him, his cock reaching deep with every drop of your body. each movement pushing you closer and closer to that edge, closer to the release you’d been aching for since you first sank onto him.

but then, both his hands slide to your hips, holding them firm — keeping you still. your pace falters, unable to move against his strength. the sudden lack of movement causing you to whine in frustration.

“you’ll get what you want. just not yet.”

a/n - thank you for this request, anon! i’m so glad you liked my caleb one!! hope you like this one too, lmk <3

✉️ masterlist !

🏷️ @lighterzom @ashirelle @littledarlingsthings @wynxoxo @dalmoonchi @kiyadeleine @sylusexual @rafascutie @lyricelli

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1-delululand-1 · 9 days ago

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LaDS Men React To An Unexpected Pregnancy

AN: Pregnant reader. Not the boys. That genre is currently unexplored on this blog but not for long 🤭👺

Pairing: LaDS boys x Fem reader

Ingredients: 75% fluff, 25% angst.

My Fav: Rafayel's (new segment because I want to discuss which ones I liked best when writing)

Xavier:

You pass out during a mission. That’s how you find out. In the Hunter Association’s medical ward, you stare at the positive report in stunned silence.

The nausea hadn’t just been Xavier’s cooking.

How even…? You sit there, frozen, until he walks in, finding you pale and unmoving.

A child.

He leans against the wall, the report in his hand. God.

He had vanished the day he found out. Left you bitterly alone. But you didn’t need him, you could raise the child on your own. If Xavier was too weak to accept the truth, so be it.

But he returns. You don’t know where he went, only that when he comes back, he is broken.

"I couldn't change it." He falls to his knees. "The world remains unchanged," he repeats, voice hollow.

The destruction he had accepted, the grief he had worn like armor, now, it becomes unbearable. Because for the first time, he isn’t sure if he can ever manage to save it for his child.

Rafayel:

He dreams of it. Strange dreams.

He’s not one to obsess over omens, but even he, in his eternal wisdom, cannot decipher what a colony of seals playing with marbles is supposed to mean.

Then, one afternoon, he dreams of a baby seal. It coos at him, glumphing closer, making infant-like noises.

And in the dream, he bends down to pet it. Only for you to pick it up instead.

He jolts awake. Hands immediately over his stomach. Breath unsteady. No...not him...it was you. You picked the seal, that meant-

Then he stumbles out of bed, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to find you.

Drives like a madman. He counts the days. Two months. He counts the signs.

His heart refuses to slow down.

Barging into the Hunter’s Association, he’s chased by guards, by an exasperated receptionist, but none of it matters.

When he finds you, he grips your shoulders, searching your face. How could he have missed it?

By the tides, he was a fool.

And then—he feels it. A whisper, warm and murmuring, like the gentle pull of the waves.

A half-formed yawn, ringing softly in his mind.

The presence of his child.

Now all he has to do is tell you.

Zayne:

You watch Zayne eat dinner, half-listening as he talks about his day. He absentmindedly bites into another baby carrot.

Not just baby carrots, baby corn, baby potatoes, those tiny tomatoes.

"How’s dinner, Zayne?" you ask, feigning nonchalance.

He nods, smiling. "It’s good. Very healthy."

"Notice anything?"

He hums in thought. "You’re trying Italian cuisine these days." He places his hand over yours, gentle. "But you don’t have to cook if you’re tired after work."

He’s too kind to mention the small incident with the oven last week. To be fair, the bun in the oven analogy is a classic.

A week. A whole week of hints, and still, he hasn’t caught on.

Sighing, you give up on subtlety. "Darling, did you visit the pediatrics ward today?" you ask, pushing food around your plate.

"I didn’t have time. Had to miss the volunteering event for surgery."

You grin. Taking his hand, you guide it over your stomach. "Well, luckily for you, we’ll have one right here soon."

His mouth hangs open. Eyes darting between you and your stomach before his fingers brush over the nonexistent bump.

"Really? Are we—"

"Yes, you dummy!" You pull him into a hug. "I’ve been trying to tell you for days."

For a man obsessed with your health, he somehow had been ignorant of the biggest of surprises. Unplanned or not, you were going to give him the longest late night shift of his life.

Sylus:

The timing could have been better, he muses, wiping blood off his cheek.

But he had been too lax.

Not that it mattered. Everything was under control.

"Clean up," he orders, snapping his fingers. Shadows slither forward, dragging the remains of his enemies into the abyss.

The news of a child had changed things. He had let fate play its part for too long. Now, it was his turn.

Whatever slow-moving scheme he had let linger, ended now.

There was no way in hell he was letting you go on any mission while carrying his child.

Aether Core be damned. EVER be damned to NEVER. He would wipe them out if he had to.

For now, though, he had other priorities.

Leaving you safe at home, he finishes this last errand. Your only battle at the moment is morning sickness which, much to his surprise, isn’t just limited to mornings.

He wipes his hands clean, heading for his bike.

One last stop. You wanted pickles.

He smiles, revving the engine. Soon, only cars.

And then, he’s gone, speeding into the night, back to you. Back to his family. To cuddle the little dragon who gives you unrivaled heartburn and kicks like a menace at 18 weeks.

Caleb:

He knew.

Some would say he saw it coming, but just because he kept track of your cycle didn’t mean he could predict your ovulation exactly.

He was just…good at math.

Mental math.

And taking you to a convenience store for cough drops, right next to the pregnancy tests, had been pure coincidence.

Not that he totally snuck a glance at you eyeing them. And if he excused himself to grab a snack right then? Also not planned.

You hand him the test. "I think I’m pregnant."

He goes through all the expressions shock, surprise, joy, tears. So dramatic that it fools no one.

Seriously, he’s atrocious at being subtle about it.

Instantly proposes. Shotgun wedding because the baby will need a family.

Grins like a madman when it turns out to be twins.

Secretly, he’s very, very proud.

Heavens, he thinks smugly, I really am amazing at math.

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1-delululand-1 · 9 days ago

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LaDs Men When You Get Hexed to Your Kid Form

Request: So you recently did a drabble where the LI's got hexed into their kid form, is it possible for you to write the reverse of it? So mc/reader gets hexed into their kid form? All good if not! Just thought it would be cool :) Keep up the amazing work! Love reading your stuff when i get the downtime

AN: thanks for requesting this anon (ur big brain), this challenged me. But it is such a fun idea to write about. MC deserves so much love for what she went through as a child. My Shayla 🥹🥹

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader (Platonic ish)

Genre: Hurt and shit ton of comfort

TW: children being sad and hurt.

Ingredients: 55% angst , 40% comfort, 5% fluff

My Fav: Xavier and Sylus.

Background: The battle had been close, too close. The Wanderers swarmed, overwhelming you both. You fought back-to-back, every breath a struggle. Then the blast hit you, filling the entire field with dense, choking smoke. You staggered back, coughing, vision blurred. You fell down.

And suddenly you looked up to see a huge looming figure over you.

Xavier:

"What are you staring at, bean pole?" your chippy voice pulls Xavier out of his trance.

"I—" he stutters, his eyes widening as he takes in the tiny, sharp-eyed version of you.

You...or this version of you, were speaking Philosian, the third age diction, to be exact. The archaic, dialect his mother had drilled into him as a child.

When he reaches for you, his hands hovering as if to scoop you up, you swat his hands away.

Xavier freezes, his hands dropping to his sides, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in the animalistic fear in your eyes.

The organization relishes this tiny version of you. Captain Jenna brings you homemade organic meals, Tara squeals over your small hands, Simone snaps so many damn photos you almost swat the camera out of her hands.

And Xavier? He becomes your prime translator, the only one who can decipher your rapid-fire, third-age Philosian. For which you roast him relentlessly, mocking his modern accent.

"You sound like a grandma," you snap one day, your tiny face scrunched in disgust as he tries to translate your order to the server. "How did your tutors let you graduate with that sloppy pronunciation?"

Rafayel:

The moment he sees the tiny version of you, he doesn’t hesitate.

He lunges in front of the same hex, with a manic grin.

When the smoke clears, there he is, a tiny version of Rafayel, right next to you. Already lunging for you, his hands grabbing yours as he pulls you down the hallway.

"Come on!" he shouts, his tiny fingers tugging yours as he pulls you into a full sprint. "Let’s find the seagulls!"

You both become Thomas’s new headache, two tiny, hyper children racing through the hallways, drawing on the walls, shrieking with laughter as you dodge his attempts to catch you.

It is so different. For the words of the past to come true, for you to complete the promise long forgotten, the one you made as children.

And for a fleeting moment, he does not wish for the hex to be undone.

Zayne:

He catches you as you collapse, hiccuping sobs leaving your body as you cry inconsolably. Scared from the smoke and blast.

He freezes for a moment, his heart lurching in his chest, his mind scrambling to process what just happened.

But then his instincts take over.

He scoops you up, his hands pressing your head into his shoulder as he rocks you gently, his voice a soft.

He takes time off to look after you, cancels his shifts, even drags you back to his parents’ house, his brother peeking around corners as Zayne hovers over you.

He monitors your heart condition, his brow furrowed in worry, his hands shaking as he reads the test results, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He worries himself sick over the impact the hex could leave on you, his breath shaking as he checks your pulse.

And when you do change back, he doesn’t stop. He slaves over reports, tests, symptoms, his eyes red-rimmed and exhausted as he pours over every detail, every scan, every reading, determined to be absolutely sure.

Until you drag him to bed. Your eyes tired but fond as you pull him down beside you, your head tucking into his shoulder as you wrap your arms around him, his breath shaking as he finally lets himself relax.

Sylus:

He is so unsure.

The moment he sees you...no taller than his knees. Your wide eyes blinking up at him in confusion, something in his chest twists painfully.

He brings you to the N109 Zone, because where else could he keep you safe? Where else could he hide you, shield you from the world of his own making. the dark?

He is so afraid. He cannot endure seeing disgust on your young, innocent face. A face, he has never seen in another lifetime.

And so he tries his hardest.

He forces himself to smile more often, his eyes softening as he kneels down to talk to you. He speaks softly, his words careful and gentle, his tone stripped of its usual wit, his every movement calculated to avoid startling you.

He dresses in lighter colors, his usual black and red replaced with soft greys and light blues. He keeps all the weapons away from your sight.

He brightens his home, dimly lit rooms of his preference replaced with warm and bright lamps in ever corner.

And he buys toys. So many toys. Soft, plush animals, brightly colored blocks, tiny cars with spinning wheels. And by some terrifying twist of fate, he finds you a foreigner to the act of playing.

You stare at the toys, your small hands hovering uncertainly over the brightly colored blocks, as if afraid to touch them, your eyes flicking to him for permission, your entire body tensing as if bracing for a scolding.

You were never allowed to play, he realizes. And the knowledge of this hurts more than anything.

And gradually, you begin to relax, you peek up at him from behind the folds of a curtain, your small hands reaching for his sleeve when he kneels beside you, his breath catching in his throat as you lean into his touch.

And for a moment, a brief, flickering moment, Sylus allows himself to hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he won’t terrify you.

That maybe, just maybe, he can protect this tiny, fragile version of you without ruining everything.

When you finally return to your old self, he holds you close, his breath shaking as he whispers a silent, desperate thank you to whatever power allowed you to forget a past so painful, a past he failed to protect you from.

Caleb:

This messes him up.

The sight of you. Tiny, fragile, your small form shivering in the aftermath of the blast, thrusts him back to the past, to the sterile corridors of the laboratories, to the sting of needles, to the cold, metal restraints.

He can’t let them find you. Not when reverting back might have messed up your evol. Not when EVER might sense you, might sniff you out.

Caleb chooses defense.

He locks down his apartment, triples the security, his fingers flying over the controls as he seals every window, every door, every vulnerable entry point. He refuses to let you out of his sight. His movements tense and twitchy as he hovers over you, his breath shaking every time you stumble, his heart twisting painfully every time you flinch.

He doesn’t like the way you look at him. Afraid, uncertain, your wide eyes flicking to the door, as if ready to bolt at any moment.

Of course you don’t recognize him. Of course you don’t know him.

But he remembers you. He remembers every detail of the childhood long gone.

And so, even for a hex lasting only a week, he gets you a kitten. A tiny, furry thing, no bigger than your small fists. A distant wish you both shared back then. He makes it come true.

He cooks for you, fills the fridge with soups and stews, piles your plate high with rice and noodles and roasted vegetables, because he cannot bear the sight of your sunken cheeks, of the way your small, fragile frame shivers when the air conditioner kicks on.

He almost breaks.

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1-delululand-1 · 9 days ago

Note

I asked this request with someone else so you mayy or mayy not see the same request somewhere else. Depends on if you or the other person does write my request. It’s alright if you don’t wanna, write want you wanna to write. I just need this idea out of my system 🤣

MC is indicted that she is powerful. Good fighter, powerful evol where she can practically borrow someone else evol and the core in her heart. She much weaker for an unknown reason at the moment. But what if she wasn’t for a brief moment? 👀

What if MC physically fights the LaDS men without holding back 👀 like a scenario where a new wanderer shows up, puppets her or something, forcing the LaDS men to defend themselves. I need the angst and drama 😂 where the men are like “I don’t want to hurt you but you’re going kill me at this rate if I don’t do something.”

This keeps floating in my head, someone save me 🤣

OK soo I hope this is what you meant and it wasn't just me completely misunderstanding but the second I read this I just had to get started omg

I usually really don't like the whole "I'm going to save you by playing on our connection" trope but it suits this sort of story I think!

Caleb

The battlefield was silent. Not the kind of silence that came from peace, but the suffocating, eerie kind—the moment before the storm.

Caleb stood at the center of it, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, violet eyes locked on you. Or at least, the body that belonged to you.

But you weren’t there.

The moment the Wanderer had latched onto you, sinking its unseen claws into your mind, he’d known something was wrong. You had stiffened, your Evol flaring wildly for half a second before your entire stance changed. That was the first warning. The second had come when your gaze lifted to meet his—not with recognition, not with warmth, but with something empty.

And then you had attacked him.

His own gravity turned against him—the weight around his body fluctuating so rapidly that he nearly lost his footing. That alone had confirmed his worst fear. The Wanderer wasn’t just suppressing your will—it was using your Resonance against him.

You had stolen his Evol.

And now, he had to fight you.

But he couldn’t.

Not really. Not the way he fought others.

His hands clenched at his sides as he dodged another blast of gravitational force, feeling the way the air twisted and compressed around him. You were strong. Stronger than he had ever let himself acknowledge.

His mind was at war with itself. Every instinct screamed at him to fight back—to win—but the part of him that had spent lifetimes protecting you? That part was already losing.

Because how could he fight you, when all he wanted to do was save you?

You lunged forward, eyes still vacant, but your movements were clean, precise—yours, but also not yours. You weren’t just mimicking his power; you were enhancing it. His own gravity was being amplified, warped, turned into a weapon against him. It took everything he had to avoid the sudden shift in force, barely managing to stabilize himself before he was slammed downward with bone-crushing weight.

The ground cracked beneath him. His knees buckled.

Caleb grit his teeth.

If this had been anyone else—any other enemy—he would’ve ended this fight by now. But it wasn’t. It was you. And for the first time in his life, he was afraid.

Not of you. Never of you.

But of what he might have to do to stop this.

He tried to speak, voice raw. “You have to fight it.”

You didn’t respond.

You only lifted your hand, and the world collapsed inward.

The force struck fast—so much stronger than he expected, so much more precise. His body strained against the gravity pressing down on him, the weight overwhelming. If he had been anyone else, he would’ve been crushed.

And that’s when the realization hit him—this is what you feel.

Every time you resonate with him, every time you borrow his strength, every time you fight beside him, this is what your body endures. The sheer force of his Evol, amplified within you.

He had never really thought about it before. Never truly grasped just how much you took on when you fought at his side.

And now? Now that power was against him.

His arms trembled as he forced himself up. “I know you’re still in there.” His voice was hoarse, desperate. “I know you can hear me.”

Nothing.

His mind raced. He needed to think. He needed to find a way to reach you—not hurt you, never hurt you—but how?

His vision blurred at the edges. The gravitational pull you were using was unlike anything he had ever faced. Not even he had pushed his power to this extent before. His body screamed for relief, his Evol struggling against itself.

But then he saw it.

The slight hesitation. The way your fingers twitched—just barely, but enough.

It wasn’t the Wanderer controlling his Evol. It was you.

Somewhere inside, you were still fighting.

That was all he needed.

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath, shoving aside hesitation, pain—everything. His hands shot forward, fingers splaying wide, and for the first time in this fight—he didn’t resist your gravity.

He let it pull him in.

The instant he got close enough, he grabbed your wrist, forcing your Evol to connect with his. Forcing Resonance.

And that was all it took.

Because the moment your Evol touched his, he poured everything he had into it. Not just power. Not just control. But himself.

His memories. His thoughts. The lifetimes spent together.

The way you had always brought him back from the edge.

The way he had sworn to protect you—not just in this life, but in every life.

And then, for the first time, you hesitated.

A sharp breath escaped you, your entire body jolting as if something had just slammed into your mind. Your grip on your own power wavered—just enough for Caleb to take control.

Gravity twisted.

Not violently. Not in a way that would hurt you.

But in the way he always held you.

Steady. Unshakable. Safe.

Your body swayed, your breath stuttering, and then—then—your eyes flickered.

Your real eyes.

Not the Wanderer’s empty gaze.

Yours.

Recognition flashed across your face, confusion, panic—and then the force holding him down snapped.

Caleb barely had time to react before your legs gave out, and he caught you without hesitation, his arms wrapping around you, his Evol still steadying your weight.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Your breath was warm against his shoulder, your body trembling in his arms. He could feel your heartbeat—erratic, unsteady, but yours.

And that was all that mattered.

The fight was over.

He pressed his forehead to the side of yours, his grip tightening, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

A shaky exhale. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his uniform. “I…” Your voice was hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Caleb exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No. Don’t.” He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes burning. “You came back. That’s all that matters.”

And in that moment, he realized something—something that had been clear all along, but he had never let himself truly accept.

You weren’t just his partner.

You were his equal.

And no matter what, no matter how hard it got, he would always pull you back to him.

Rafayel

The battlefield was ablaze.

Not with fire, but with chaos.

The air was thick with smoke and embers, Rafayel’s flames flickering and dancing wildly across the ruined ground. Yet, despite the searing heat, his hands trembled. His chest ached—not from exhaustion, not from injury, but from the sheer horror of what was happening.

Because it was you standing against him.

And it wasn’t you at all.

Your eyes, usually filled with warmth, were void of emotion. Your stance, once fluid and graceful, was rigid—unnatural. The Wanderer who had taken over your body had turned your Resonance against him, amplifying his flames, twisting them, making them stronger in ways he never intended.

And now, that power was aimed at him.

A burst of fire roared toward him, faster than he could react. The heat seared his skin as he barely managed to throw himself to the side, landing hard against the dirt. His breath came out ragged as he quickly pushed himself up, his eyes locking onto you once more.

"Damn it..." he whispered, swallowing hard.

He couldn’t fight you.

But you—no, the thing inside you—had no such hesitation.

You lunged. Faster than he expected, stronger than he remembered. And maybe that was the worst part. He had always known you were powerful, but now? With your Evol fully unleashed against him, amplified in ways he never thought possible, he realized just how devastatingly strong you truly were.

And he had never feared your strength before.

Not until now.

You moved like fire itself—wild, relentless. Each attack forced him to retreat, to defend, to dodge, rather than strike back. He couldn’t. Even as his instincts screamed at him to fight, to survive, his heart refused to let him lift his hands against you.

"Come on, Rafayel," a voice that wasn’t yours taunted from your lips, hollow and mocking. "Is this really all you’ve got?"

Another wave of flames erupted toward him, this time crackling with an intensity that made his stomach twist. He barely managed to counter, his own fire surging up to meet yours, but the moment the two collided, yours consumed his completely.

His eyes widened.

His own fire.

It didn’t even stand a chance.

"Shit—"

The explosion sent him flying backward, slamming into the side of a crumbling building. He gasped, pain shooting through his ribs. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the helplessness clawing at his chest.

He had to think. Had to find a way to get through to you.

But how?

If he tried to burn the Wanderer out, he’d be burning you.

If he held back, he’d die before he got the chance to save you.

He gritted his teeth.

No. There had to be a way.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes locked onto you again—his love, his muse—possessed and wielded like a weapon against him.

His hands clenched into fists.

"I know you’re still in there." His voice was hoarse, desperate. "I know you can hear me."

But you didn’t answer.

The Wanderer tilted your head, smirking through your lips. "That’s sweet," they mocked. "But pointless."

And then you attacked again.

Faster. Stronger.

You disappeared in a flash of heat—only to reappear behind him. He barely turned in time to block the hit, his forearm crashing against yours. The sheer force of it made his bones rattle. Then came another, and another—strike after strike, relentless.

And Rafayel could do nothing but defend.

Not because he wasn’t strong enough.

But because he couldn’t—wouldn’t—hurt you.

Think, damn it!

The answer came in a flicker of memory.

Your Resonance.

You borrowed the power of others, but it was a two-way connection. If he could reach that part of you—if you were still in there, buried deep beneath the Wanderer’s control—then maybe, just maybe, he could pull you back.

But he had to get close.

Close enough to touch you.

Close enough to take a direct hit.

It was a gamble. A stupid, reckless gamble. But he was running out of time, and there was no way in hell he was going to lose you.

So, he let go of his defense.

Dropped his guard completely.

And when you lunged at him again, aiming straight for his heart—he didn’t move.

The moment your hand made contact with his chest, he reached out. Not with his fire. Not with his fists.

But with his Resonance.

A connection.

A tether.

Through the blinding heat, through the searing pain of your touch, he focused on you—the real you, trapped beneath layers of someone else’s will.

"Come back to me," he breathed. "Please."

For a moment—just a flicker—something changed.

Your body froze.

The grip on his chest loosened, fingers trembling against his shirt. The flames flickering in your eyes wavered—just for a second.

And in that second, he poured everything into the link between you.

Your Evol, your power, the resonance that had always bound you together. He reached for it. Pushed his own power into it. Made it something bigger, brighter, than the darkness that held you captive.

"You’re mine," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours despite the heat. "Not theirs."

The Wanderer shrieked.

The connection between you burned.

And then—

A scream tore through the air. Your body convulsed, and suddenly, the fire turned inward.

Not his. Yours.

Flames erupted around you, swallowing your form in a wild blaze—brighter, hotter than anything he’d ever seen. And then—

Silence.

When the flames finally died, you collapsed against him, body trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps.

But your eyes—

Your eyes were yours again.

"Rafayel..." Your voice was weak, hoarse, but it was enough.

His breath hitched, arms tightening around you as he pulled you close, pressing desperate kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he could reach.

"You scared the hell out of me," he whispered, voice shaking. "Don’t you ever do that again."

A weak laugh left your lips as you buried your face against his chest. "Not exactly something I planned, you know."

He let out a breathless chuckle, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

You were back.

And he would never let you go again.

Sylus

The night was warm, but Sylus felt nothing but cold.

He stood across from you, his crimson eyes narrowed, his breath steady—but his heart pounding.

You weren’t you.

Not really.

A Wanderer had taken your body, stolen your will, and twisted it into something unrecognizable. The way you moved—precise, calculating, almost inhuman—was proof enough. Your usual grace had been sharpened into something unnatural, something colder than he could stand to see.

He had fought countless enemies before. He had cut down traitors, eliminated threats, and broken those who dared to stand against him. But this?

This was the first time his hands trembled before a fight had even begun.

You raised your hand, palm out, and Sylus braced himself. A flicker of energy crackled around your fingers—his energy, twisted by your Resonance Evol.

The Wanderer inside you smirked.

“Your hesitation is touching, Sylus,” they said, your voice not quite right. “But it will be your downfall.”

Then, with a flick of your wrist, the world ignited.

A blast of pure, searing energy surged toward him—his own power, amplified and turned against him. He barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the ground where he once stood erupted in a violent shockwave.

Damn it.

He knew your Evol made you powerful, but now—now—he was realizing just how dangerous it was. With your Resonance, you weren’t just using his ability. You were enhancing it. Making it faster. Stronger.

Making it better than he ever could.

Sylus exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself.

“Darling,” he said, his voice calm despite the ache in his chest, “if you wanted a fight, you could’ve just asked.”

The Wanderer inside you laughed. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. You were always going to lose.”

You lunged.

Sylus barely dodged in time, his coat billowing as he twisted away. Another blast of energy, another near-miss. He felt the heat graze his cheek, singeing his skin. Tch. That was his power. Amplified. Used against him.

And worse?

He still couldn’t bring himself to attack you.

Because even though your body was moving against him, even though you were fighting with deadly precision—it was still you.

And the thought of hurting you was the first thing in his life that truly terrified him.

But this was no longer just about him.

He had to get you back.

Sylus moved with purpose, dodging, analyzing. He needed a plan—a way to break the Wanderer’s hold without breaking you.

But the problem was you were making it impossible.

You weren’t just strong—you were devastating. Every attack came faster, sharper. His own Evol, when amplified by yours, was far more than he could handle. It was overwhelming, relentless.

A pillar of energy surged forward. He braced, crossing his arms as the impact slammed into him, forcing him back. He barely stayed on his feet, his boots skidding against the cracked ground.

You’re too strong like this.

And that realization—it shook him to his core.

He had always known you made him stronger. Had always known that together, you were an unstoppable force.

But now? Now that you were standing against him instead of beside him?

He wasn’t sure if he could win.

And worse—he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

“Come on, Sylus,” the Wanderer taunted through your lips. “You always plan for every possible outcome, don’t you? You must’ve thought about this scenario.”

He clenched his jaw. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

A smirk. “Oh? You really mean to say you never once imagined what would happen if your pretty little Resonance Evol turned against you?”

Sylus said nothing.

Because the truth was—no.

He had never imagined this.

Because in every scenario he had ever planned, in every possibility he had ever considered—

You were always with him.

The next strike was the closest yet.

A blast of energy—too fast, too precise. He barely managed to counter, the force sending him stumbling back. He could feel the bruises forming beneath his clothes, the sting of burned skin where your attack had hit.

And still, he hesitated.

“Why won’t you fight me, Sylus?” the Wanderer hummed, tilting your head. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

His eyes locked onto yours.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said simply.

The Wanderer clicked their tongue. “Oh, but I’ll hurt you.”

You raised your hand again.

And Sylus knew—this time, he wouldn’t be able to dodge.

But at the last second—you hesitated.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but Sylus saw it. A flicker of recognition. A second where your body tensed—but your fingers curled inward, as if trying to resist.

You were still in there.

Sylus inhaled sharply. That’s it. Hold on, darling. Hold on just a little longer.

If you were still there, he could reach you.

He just had to risk it all.

So, instead of dodging—

He stepped forward.

The Wanderer sneered. “Giving up already?”

Sylus didn’t answer.

He just closed the distance—and grabbed your wrist.

The moment his fingers closed around your skin, he poured his energy into you.

Not to fight.

Not to hurt.

But to resonate.

If your Evol worked through Resonance, through matching the energy of those around you—then all he had to do was flood you with something stronger than the Wanderer’s control.

And there was nothing in this world stronger than his need to bring you back.

Your body stiffened. The energy in your hand faltered, flickering unsteadily between raw power and something uncertain. Your breathing hitched.

Sylus tightened his grip.

“Come back to me,” he murmured, his voice commanding. “I know you’re still in there.”

For a second—nothing.

Then—

A sharp gasp.

Your eyes, wide and yours again for just a moment, locked onto his. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. A violent shudder wracked through your body.

Sylus didn’t let go.

“You are mine,” he said, his voice a whisper, but carrying the full weight of his soul. “No one else gets to have you. Not them. Not anyone.”

A strangled cry tore from your throat. The Wanderer fought—but Sylus was stronger.

Because he knew you.

He knew your energy, your heart, your soul.

And no matter what—nothing could ever make him let you go.

The moment the Wanderer’s hold snapped, you collapsed against him.

Sylus caught you immediately, cradling you against his chest, his arms locking around you like a vice.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, weakly, you whispered, “You’re bleeding.”

Sylus let out a breathless laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “You should see yourself, darling. You made quite the mess.”

You gave a weak chuckle. “Guess that means I won?”

His grip tightened. “Never.”

Then, softer—

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You nodded against his chest, and Sylus knew—

No matter what happened next, you would never fight alone again.

Xavier

The world around you spun. The cold, sterile air of the facility clung to your skin, and your heartbeat pounded against your chest as though it wanted to break free. You could feel the weight of your body, but it felt distant, as if you were no longer fully in control of it.

Your breath quickened as the world distorted, everything around you slipping out of focus. The pain in your temples only made the sensation worse, a sharp jolt of nausea sinking into your gut. It was as though your entire being was split in two, and one of those halves was being pulled in a direction you didn’t want to go.

You fought it, clenching your fists in an attempt to regain control, but it was no use. The foreign force inside you took hold with an iron grip, seizing every inch of you, weaving itself into your core until it became you. The invasive presence swirled within, a dark, malicious energy.

There was a flash of movement—Xavier. His silver hair caught the light, and his blue eyes found you with a look of deep concern. His steps faltered as he came closer, his gaze narrowing, confused. But the moment you met his eyes, the clarity of what was happening hit him all at once.

“No,” he whispered. The word trembled from his lips. “No, no, no…”

It was you. It was your body, but not your mind. Not your will. You weren’t in control anymore.

You were a prisoner inside your own skin.

“Xavier!” you tried to shout, but the voice that came out of your mouth wasn’t yours. It was cold, detached, and devoid of all warmth. A hollow echo of what you had once been.

Xavier’s eyes widened as his instincts kicked in. He knew you. He knew you, and this was wrong. This wasn’t the person he’d fought beside, laughed with, shared so many quiet moments. This wasn’t the person who’d trusted him with their heart, body, and soul.

But you weren’t completely gone. He could see it in the way your lips trembled, the subtle flicker of emotion beneath the cold mask the Wanderer had woven over you. But it wasn’t enough.

You were still trapped, still in that dark corner of your mind, but the Wanderer’s will was too powerful.

The presence inside you stirred, pushing against your resistance. Xavier took a careful step forward, his hand raised in a calming gesture, as though trying to reach the real you beneath the enemy’s control.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Just fight, okay? Fight it, please. I’ll find a way to get you back, I swear.”

But you didn’t respond—not with your words, not with any recognition of him. The enemy within you was far more cunning, pushing you forward, taking control of your every movement. You could feel it sinking deeper into you, exploiting the part of your mind that resonated with Xavier’s light. The resonance you shared, once a source of strength, now became a weapon against him, turning his own power into something he had to fight against.

It was then you saw it: the horrible realization in his eyes as he looked at you. He couldn’t bring himself to harm you, not even to defend himself, not when he knew what you’d become.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands, but you saw the struggle in his gaze. The anguish was raw, suffocating. He was trying to figure it out. He was trying to find a way to save you both.

The resonance between you and Xavier, the bond that had always strengthened you both in every situation, now felt like an anchor pulling you deeper into a sea of chaos. You could feel his power around you—surging, lighting up the space—but now it was a threat. A threat that made you feel like you were suffocating.

“No,” you whispered, fighting with every ounce of your being to reach him. “Don’t… hurt… me…”

But the Wanderer inside you wasn’t willing to let go. It twisted your body, forcing your hand up, and you could see Xavier’s eyes flicker with the realization that you were about to hurt him.

With a sudden surge of power, the resonance inside you flared to life—Xavier’s own Evol, manipulated by the enemy, twisted around you, harnessed into a blinding ball of light. The space around you erupted, and Xavier was forced back, his own power ripping through the air to fight against yours.

“Xavier—!” you screamed again, but the voice that came out of your mouth was filled with malice, not your own.

You didn’t know if he could hear the real you anymore. You couldn’t even feel the pulse of his Evol flowing into you as it used to. He was too far away now. He was so far away.

But Xavier didn’t back down. Even as the ball of light surged toward him, he didn’t flinch. His Evol blazed brighter, trying to counteract the resonance that had been corrupted. He didn’t understand it entirely, didn’t realize the full depth of what was happening—but he could feel you. He could feel that you were still somewhere in there, buried beneath the surface.

The battle raged on, your body moving against your will, fighting against Xavier. Every strike he blocked only caused him more pain. His own power—the very light that had once been his most treasured ally—felt oppressive, draining. He was fighting with everything he had, trying to reach you, but you were so far gone.

Xavier’s voice cracked with pain. “Please… come back to me.”

In that moment, everything froze. Time seemed to stretch as you felt the pulse of his light reach out, gentle yet forceful, like a lifeline in the storm. He wasn’t giving up. He refused to give up on you.

Somewhere deep inside, something inside you stirred.

The Wanderer’s control over you flickered, just for an instant. And in that moment, you were able to reach him.

You couldn’t speak, but you tried—your hand, shaking and weak, reached out toward Xavier. You were trying to call him back, trying to fight the darkness that had consumed you. But the Wanderer still lingered, still pressing down on you.

Xavier saw it—he saw the fight in you. He saw that you were still there.

And that was enough.

“Hang on,” he whispered, his voice full of promise and pain. “I’ll get you back. I swear I will.”

His Evol flared one last time, combining with the resonance that had always existed between you. This time, your light—the one that connected you both—fought back the darkness with a power neither of you had ever felt before.

The battle raged between the two of you, but this time, Xavier’s light pushed through the darkness, finally forcing it back. Your own resonance fought through the haze, giving you control once again.

And as you regained yourself, breathless and broken, you saw Xavier before you—his blue eyes filled with relief, but also the weight of everything he had just fought against.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he pulled you close, holding you tightly as if afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away again.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. But even through the pain, there was nothing but tenderness in his touch.

Zayne

Zayne could feel the cold creeping up his spine long before he saw you.

The battlefield was a chaotic mess of fractured ice and broken stone, an eerie quiet hanging in the air. You had been acting strange earlier—off, distant—but he never could have predicted this. Never could have anticipated what was coming.

Your eyes were distant now, completely blank as you stood across from him, an uncharacteristic stillness in your posture. A thick chill hung in the air, and the normally comfortable bite of his ice Evol now seemed like something far more dangerous—like something hostile.

“Y/N…” His voice was tentative, unsure. His heart pounded in his chest. He knew you. Knew you better than anyone else. So, why were you standing there, so calm, so detached?

You didn’t respond.

A dark energy, one Zayne couldn’t quite explain, pulsed beneath the surface, swirling through the air like a storm, wrapping around you. It wasn’t your power—he could sense that. But what came next? That, he hadn’t expected.

You raised your hand. Your own power—Resonance—flared to life, but it wasn’t the soft, gentle way it usually did. It wasn’t amplifying his power, it wasn’t supporting him like it always did. No. This time, your Resonance vibrated in sync with Zayne’s own ice, amplifying it and twisting it to your will.

And with a sudden burst of energy, Zayne watched in horror as his own ice began to materialize around you—not as defense, but as a weapon.

It was his Evol, the one he had honed and perfected for years, the one he trusted more than anything. And now, it was being used against him. His own creation.

“Y/N!” He yelled, his voice strained with both disbelief and desperation. But you were too far gone, the energy in your eyes too overwhelming.

Without warning, you thrust your hand forward, and the ice surged at him with the force of a tidal wave. Zayne barely had time to react, his body moving on instinct as he threw up his own defenses, sending a surge of ice to block the incoming attack. But it wasn’t enough.

You were using his own power against him. Every movement, every strike was amplified by your Resonance, making the ice you conjured stronger, faster, sharper. He barely managed to dodge one attack as the ice flew past him, slicing through the air and leaving deep gashes in the ground. His heart raced.

“I won’t hurt you…” Zayne muttered to himself, his hands shaking as he summoned more ice to defend himself. He could barely keep up with you now. It wasn’t just the power, it was the control. His Evol had always been something that was intrinsically tied to his soul, his emotions, but now, in your hands, it was alien, a force completely out of his control.

And worse—he didn’t know how to fight you without hurting you. The thought alone tore him apart.

You stepped forward, the ice swirling around you like a storm. It rose from the ground, wrapping around your body like armor, and you moved toward him with terrifying speed, your eyes fixed on him with a distant, eerie look.

Zayne didn’t want to fight you. But you weren’t giving him a choice.

With a cry of frustration, Zayne shot a beam of ice at you, but you deflected it effortlessly, sending shards of his own ice right back at him. One piece grazed his arm, leaving a trail of blood beneath the frozen surface. He winced but didn’t let up, his gaze locked on yours as he took another step back.

"Please," he whispered, voice ragged with emotion. "You have to fight this."

But you didn’t respond, didn’t show any sign of recognition. You just continued to move toward him, the ice in your hands growing more elaborate with each passing moment. A large block of ice shot at him with blinding speed, and Zayne barely managed to dodge it, but he was starting to feel the weight of the battle. His own powers were being turned against him, and he couldn’t keep up.

His breath came in shallow bursts, and his mind raced. There had to be something he could do, something to stop you from using his own Evol against him. He needed you to break free from this—needed you back.

His eyes searched the ground for something—anything—that could help, but all he could see was the snow and ice he had created. Your resonance, your amplification of his ice, was making everything around them feel like a frozen prison.

Then it hit him.

You were using his ice, yes, but you were still you. There was still a trace of your presence beneath the surface, beneath the coldness and the power you now wielded. The way your movements weren’t just about destruction, but about something else—something familiar.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning: He could still reach you.

Zayne closed his eyes for just a moment and focused, pulling at the ice around him, not in anger or fear, but with something deeper—something he had never relied on before. He wasn’t just using his Evol for defense. He wasn’t trying to trap or fight you.

He was trying to connect.

A wave of ice rippled through the battlefield, but it wasn’t just a defense. It was a gesture, a soft and delicate thing, like the ice seals he had carved for you when you were children. He called upon the memory of that moment, the warmth in the act, the love behind it.

Slowly, carefully, he shaped the ice into something, a symbol. A seal. A small ice sculpture, just like the ones he had made for you all those years ago. It was perfect. Beautiful. Simple.

The ice seemed to slow around him, the energy flickering. He could feel it—the resonance between the two of you, so faint now, but it was still there.

He placed the ice seal on the ground, hoping that this small act would remind you of who you were.

"Please," Zayne whispered. "Remember me."

The ice around you hesitated. The coldness seemed to crack, breaking apart like a frozen surface thawing in the warmth of the sun. You froze in place, your hand trembling as you reached for the ice seal he had created for you.

For a long moment, nothing happened. But then—slowly, so slowly—the coldness in your eyes began to melt, replaced by a softness he had longed to see again. You dropped to your knees, gasping as the power began to drain from you, leaving you breathless but you.

Zayne’s heart swelled as he rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m here,” he whispered against your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Zayne allowed himself to breathe. The battle was over. And you were back.

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1-delululand-1 · 9 days ago

Text

N/SFW Xavier Thoughts

A bit of a switch, but not in the way you would think just looking at him. If you want to get a bit dominant over him, go ahead- he’ll play right along with every single word and love every second of it- but don’t be fooled. He can reverse the roles in an instant if he thinks it’ll be fun, and dominating you comes like a second nature to him, and in a way where it’s like he’s a starving man and you’re the only meal in sight.

Whenever he’s in bed with you for a session, you can feel the desperation practically dripping off of him- as if simply being around you awakens something inside of him. Definitely has jumped you to pin you suddenly to the bed, breathing heavy and labored as he stares down at you, his eyes flickering over every single inch of your body. You can only guess just what he’s thinking, and that guess is probably ‘he’s thinking of all the ways to ruin me’.

And don’t get him wrong, he can be sweet and fluffy, full of care and love in the heaps of blankets and plushies that take over a good portion of his bed, especially if you’ve had a long day but still want him. He’ll nuzzle into you, placing long and drawn out kisses down the crook of your neck as he moves lower, his hands sliding under your work clothes with some obviously fake excuse to get them off of your body.

‘If you’re going to lie down with me for a nap, you’ll need to be a lot more comfortable. Let’s take care of this, shall we?’

Regardless of the role he plays, he’s definitely big on servicing you. He’ll say it’s to help you relax if he’s being gentle, or he’ll say it’s to punish you for teasing him if he’s in the mood to control you. You won’t even notice what he’s planning to do until his hands are working across your chest, or his mouth is inches away from clasping down on one of your most sensitive parts, and boy is he fake-innocently smug about it too.

‘Oh, I’m happy that it felt good for you. I didn’t know if you would like it.’

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1-delululand-1 · 9 days ago

Text

Too heavy for me? Never

LADS men reaction to you only somewhat joking about being too heavy for them

Sylus -

He'll raise an eyebrow at you, staring down at you as you realize the joke fell flat. You try to back peddle, not wanting to cause any confrontation that never helps you feel better about your body anyway, but he simply holds up a hand to stop you with a shake of his head.

"I don't want to hear it, sweetie. I already know the nonsense you're going to say. How about you just come with me right now to the gym instead?"

You don't know how to tell him that saying that truly shattered your heart into a million pieces, so you just follow him in silence instead. You didn't think he would insult you so casually, and you were now trying to brace yourself for the inadequate feelings and self-loathing you were about to experience by having to train at the gym with him.

But... he didn't ask you to do a workout. He didn't tell you to get on a piece of equipment or to lie down on a mat for a physical exercise.

He told you to sit on a small bench against the wall while he went to the free weights close by.

Wordlessly, he loads weights- two- no, three times your weight onto the bar, before moving to lift it. Once. Twice. Again, and again and again-

His eyes flicker over to you at some point, and instead of making any remark or reference to the emotions clear across your face, he flashes you a slight smirk, just like he always does.

"Have I made myself clear, sweetie?"

Zayne -

Zayne will definitely think you're just pretending to be stupid at first.

He will look down at you with his brows furrowed and a small smile creeping on his lips, thinking it's all a joke.

"I lift myself during my workouts fairly easily, and I am capable of lifting a lot more. Quite funny, though I wouldn't make this form of humor a habit. It isn't particularly good for your mental health."

Then he realizes you're actually being serious in what you're saying.

He's upset, to put it lightly, but hes trying not to let it show. Favoring a small frown across his usually firm expression as he studies your face. Your heart will jolt just a little bit when you process just how sad his eyes look though... obviously he's hurt that you would even think something like that about yourself, much less come to believe it as true.

"Allowing a part of your brain to lie to you is not healthy if you don't push back with the truth. And the truth here, is that you are nowhere near too heavy for me to lift or carrying, even for prolonged periods of time. To demonstrate-"

And like it's nothing, he's picking you up and carrying you. His destination is not important, and the protests spewing from your lips fall on deaf ears as you try to gentle squirm out of his grasp. He'll continue to explain why your viewpoint is flawed, methodically and with logic, and in a way that you find yourself unable to argue back.

He doesn't want you to.

He knows you're wrong, and he will stop at nothing to prove it.

Xavier -

He's more surprised at the statement than anything. At first, he thinks you're making a jab at his strength, and wonders if he slipped up in front of one too many Wanderers and now needs to prove himself just to get you to stop teasing him for being 'weak'.

Once he (quickly) realizes that you're talking about yourself, jabbing at your own body and state, rather than at him, it's like a spark igniting in him.

"What? What would ever make you think that? No- that's not right. That's not right at all."

He's immediately going to try and grab you to lift you up, he doesn't care where you both are or what you're doing. Even if you've just woken up in bed and are still relaxing, he's trying to pick you up right then and there.

He stumbles trying to lift you, falling backward onto the pile of blankets and plushies that has taken over his bed. He feels awful, worried that you'll take his misstep as him falling over from your weight, immediately apologizing and trying to sit up and pick you up again before falling forward from the plush surface he's trying to rise on giving out too much beneath him.

You're both a giggling mess by then, and it's obvious to you that he's going to keep trying to prove it to you, just... a bit clumsily so. Several more attempts will be made as the evening goes on, and pretty soon he's showing you just how easily it is for him to lift you up- especially if he keeps doing it over and over and over again.

And he will continue to do it over and over and over again, even after today. As many times as it takes.

Rafayel -

You definitely made a mistake saying anything self-depreciating around him. Especially with how much he likes to prove you wrong in playful situations, this is something similar, but a lot more serious to him.

He'll make fun of you for anything, as long as you know he's just being lighthearted even if he's grumpy or upset when he fires a quip off at you.

But the second you agree with him, or say something bad about yourself- whether jokingly or dead serious- the gloves are off. He won't accept that from you, and he's already on it to figure out how to turn the opinion you've formed of yourself on it's head and into a more positive outlook.

Lifts you up bridal carry while spinning- quite literally sweeping you off your feet while he whisks you away. You would think you were a princess with how he spins around his studio with you in his arms, with no regard to the paintings or projects around him as he dances with you in his arms. And no matter how hard you protest, he doesn't stop until he feels for himself that he's done enough, giggling the entire time.

"Are you really going to doubt a sea god's strength? Geez, I didn't realize you were such a rude human."

He'll hold you up enough to press his forehead against yours, nuzzling against you with a smile, the slightest sadness playing across his expression.

"Man, I must be pretty lousy that you would ever think something like that about yourself. That must mean I don't think to pick you up enough like you deserve. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you by whisking you away every chance I see you from now on."

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

Text

Social Media Headcanons

How I think the boys would be with various social media!

Masterlist

★ let's be real

★ Xav would follow you on everything.

★ he doesn't have an account? he's making one just to follow you and maybe Jeremiah if he's lucky

★ he would absolutely have your post notifications on too, would never admit that out loud though

★ don't worry he's definitely not checking to see who else likes your posts

★ interacts with 99% of your posts

★ would definitely attempt to post a "cute" candid pic of you, but in reality it's blurry as hell and completely mid

★ ^ "but I like that picture..."

★ I do think Xav would have a tiktok, but I think he'd be more of an observer than a poster

❄ aside from the Moments posts, I don't really see Zayne keeping up with a bunch of social media

❄ man is BUSY. I can't realistically imagine him doom scrolling through tiktok or twitter after a torturously long day at the hospital

❄ I REALLY feel like he would think tiktok is overstimulating or something

❄ but he would definitely sit with you like a good boy and watch some if you really wanted to show him something (bro is a closet softie, be fr)

❄ would definitely make occasional posts of you, like he does with the moment posts.

❄ probably dedicates his instagram to scenery pictures

❄ is definitely in your comments with his dry ass humor

♥ most definitely has every single type of social media

♥ twitter, instagram, tiktok, etc. all of it

♥ whether or not he runs the accounts? probably not most of them (ily Thomas)

♥ Raf is funny af, if you've seen the "sound was crisp 10/10" moment post you know what I'm talking about. I just know there'd be a GOLDMINE of similar posts on his personal twitter

♥ can totally see him being dramatic and sending you tiktoks of things he wants to do

♥ for exanple

♥ he sends you a video of a couple at the beach, holding hands and walking by the water

♥ after sending the tiktok, he'd say something like "must be nice"

♥ ^ "Rafayel do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"

♥ ^ "well, I was gunna work on a painting... buuut since you asked so nicely, be here in 10 cutie,"

♦ okay listen

♦ this man would be gassing you up in your instagram comments (personal hype man? oh yes, absolutely)

♦ man also has no problem showing you off, you're def getting posted. bro adores you. immediate hard launch, zero shits given

♦ sometimes he posts vague ass shit on moments that only you (and maybe the twins) would understand, so I definitely see that carrying over to other platforms

♦ imagine him cryptic posting on twitter

♦ ^ "the sky is a little darker than normal today" and he's literally just being petty because you forgot to send a good morning text

♦ as for tiktok, I can absolutely see you having to explain to him wtf a tiktok even is

♦ "Why not just post it on Moments? I don't understand why it needs a whole different platform."

♦ ^ he'd definitely make an account though, simply because you asked

♦ if he posts anything on tiktok at all, it would probably be him using an alloy ammo box as a grill or something (iykyk), or reposting things that you posted

BONUS: Luke & Kieran

-Let's be fr, Luke & Kieran would most definitely be shitposters

-They are funny as HELL

-Brainrot fyp on tiktok = Luke and Kieran

-Their social media would absolutely be chaos but I'm here for it

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

Note

Ok so I've been loving all if the stuff you've been putting out so far, it's literally so good!!! My request is how the lads would react to you falling down the stairs and I'm talking like a long stream of stairs (totally not bc I fell down the stairs today while watching sylus edits hehehe)

First of all, omg, I am so sorry but I giggled. I hope you're okay!

Here you go, anon. I hope this is what you had in mind! Do me a favor and ban yourself from watching Sylus edits near stairs!!

How the boys would react to you falling down the stairs

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader Warnings: Stairs are your biggest op.

(little bit of falling, little bit of fluff. Lots of love for anon)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

☆ Man would be mortified.

☆ He turned his back for two seconds, next thing he knows you're takin a tumble

☆ Would most likely ban you from being near stairs by yourself again

☆ “You can take down wanderers, but lose a fight against stairs?”

☆ Would let you lean on him for support the rest of the night (he knows it hurt)

The elevator to your shared apartment building had broken down. By the time the two of you had arrived home to find that out, it was 11pm, and far too late for maintenance to come out to fix it. You were stuck taking the stairs until maintenance arrived tomorrow morning.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, your day had been excruciatingly long, and the stairs were more of an obstacle and a hinderance than they should have been. Your body was sore, your legs felt like jelly, and you really hated stairs in general.

Xavier looked down at you, stifling a laugh at the exasperated expression on your face. "I could always just carry you," He offered, extending his hand.

Whether it was your pride or your stubbornness, you couldn't accept. "I'm fine," You insisted, although it sounded like you were reassuring yourself more than Xavier. "You're tired too. Go ahead, I'm right behind you," You would very quickly find out that your last statement aged like milk left out in the sun.

Xavier shot you one last skeptical glance before he turned and began walking up the stairs. You followed suit, doing a decent job until you stepped wrong and lost your balance. Your arms flailed, successfully grabbing on to nothing. The only audible indication that you were about to fall was the startled gasp that left your mouth, which caught Xavier's attention with just enough time left to helplessly watch you fall.

You stumbled backward, colliding with every single one of the 13 steps on your way down. Every single stair caused a painful shock and an even bigger dent to your ego.

Xavier was kneeling by your side in an instant.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He helped you sit up, carefully eyeing you for any visible injuries. You were very sore, but luckily not seriously injured. At most, you'd likely be bruised in the morning.

You let out a huff of air, stifling a pained grunt in the process. "Well, that was embarrassing,"

Xavier stared at you, wide-eyed and looking like he was 3 seconds away from calling an ambulance.

"Xav. I'm alright," You insisted, twisting to lift yourself up.

Xavier intervened, quickly scooping you up before you could get to your feet.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "You're banned from stairs,"

With that, he began walking back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down. While you were nearly dying from the embarrassment, Xavier actually didn't mind carrying you. In fact, he'd rather carry you up and down every flight of stairs you encountered for the rest of your life if it meant he wouldn't witness another fall like that again.

Once you were safely at the top, he gently set you down outside of your apartment, making sure to keep hold of you in case you were unsteady on your feet.

"I can stand," You assured him. You were still heavily embarrassed, but ultimately thankful that he was so sweet.

He kept an arm on you until your door was unlocked.

"Is it too soon to say you should have accepted my offer the first time?"

You shot him a glare, although it lacked any real heat.

"I think I should stick around for the night, just in case you happen to encounter anymore stairs,"

❅ Professional Zayne mode engaged immediately

❅ Depending on how bad the fall was, you're getting a full body exam before you're even allowed off the floor

❅ and that's not it, either

❅ You think you might bruise? Cold Compress. 15 Minutes. Now.

❅ Man will be stressed for the rest of his life any time you're in the same vicinity as a single stair

Zayne had lost track of the amount of times he'd warned you to be slower coming down the stairs. Every single time you came down them, two at a time and at a speed that was less than acceptable, he'd get heart palpitations, convinced that this was the time you were going to fall.

It was coming, and he knew it. He warned you. You, however, tore through the house like a woman on a mission. You had a habit of learning the hard way, and you're simply too prideful to take his warnings seriously.

Until about 30 seconds ago.

You don't even remember what you were going to tell him. You'd been upstairs, he'd been downstairs. You raced down the stairs, coming in hot, and somehow miscalculated a step about halfway down.

That fall that Zayne had warned you about numerous times was finally a reality, and damn it was painful.

Zayne, from the kitchen, heard what sounded suspiciously like a body bouncing off the stairs and immediately stopped what he was doing to come check on you.

He rounded the corner, and there you were in all your glory: dazed, disoriented, and sore with a bloody lip serving as the cherry on top.

"Don't move," He said gently, kneeling at your side. With well trained eyes, he began looking you over. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," You groaned. It was true. 30 seconds ago you were having the time of your life, and now you felt like you'd been hit by a semi truck.

The next 10 minutes consisted of Zayne thoroughly checking every limb, asking you to answer various questions ("what day is it? What year is it? Time? Count backwards from 10. What comes after W?") and forcibly holding an icepack to your lip.

He ended up carrying you to the couch, gently laying you down so he could continue what he was doing while simultaneously babysitting you.

He did not hit you with an "I told you so,"

Not yet, anyway.

However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for a house that didn't have stairs.

❀ He'd hear it from the other room and think a tree fell on his studio or something

❀ "Is it storming? I swear I heard thunder,"

❀ He'd make sure you were okay, but he's definitely teasing you about it later

❀ "I'm looking for a new bodyguard. Mine can't even handle a staircase,"

❀ definitely makes a moment post later on

❀ ^ "thought it was storming earlier. turns out it was just (Y/N) getting in a fight with stairs and losing. 10/10 ambience though,"

❀ on a separate occasion, I can see you both falling at the same time and blaming each other for it

While Rafayel was occupied with his current project, boredom had gotten the best of you. You began exploring the studio, surprised to find a set of stairs that you hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, they lead to an attic.

Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. You couldn't help yourself.

Was Rafayel an attic man? What sorts of trinkets did he stash up there? The questions were burning too hot to go unanswered.

Unfortunately, it was mostly old paint supplies and boxes of random decorations that had been retired. You were left a little unsatisfied, but you had gotten an answer.

As you began to retreat, you realized the stairs felt a lot steeper than they did on the way up.

It didn't take long for you to lose your footing. The sounds that filled the air were a symphony of thuds and curses.

After laying on the ground for a few minutes, trying to recover, you opened your eyes to see Rafayel standing above you.

"You good?" He asked, kneeling down. "I kinda thought you died,"

"I'm not good, but I'm not dead."

He gently checked you over and then extended a hand to help you up.

"I think you should stay away from stairs," He drawled, leading you toward the couch. "and I also think you should sit here and recover from that,"

You plopped on the couch, too tired to protest.

Rafayel studied you for a moment longer, wanting to make sure you were truly alright before he began the teasing. It was his way of lightening the mood. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You reassured him that yes, you were alright. He sat next to you, casually tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"Good, because we need to talk about your Bodyguard skills. You need training or something. You just lost a fight to some stairs,"

⟡ He was never worried about you around stairs before

⟡ but he's absolutely having remodeling done within the next 24 hours now

⟡ you are getting absolutely BABIED by this man the second he comes to your aid

⟡ You're not even lifting a fork, sweetie

⟡ You're getting tossed over his shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes if stairs can't be avoided in the future

⟡ You're not going to get hurt again if he can help it

At times, Sylus thought it was cute when you shut your brain off around him. He knew that it meant you felt safe, and it filled him with warmth whenever he stopped to think about it.

He'd place a tactical hand over the corner of the table when you bent down to pick something up, just in case you bumped your head again, you'd hit his hand instead of the corner.

He'd gently guide you when you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, too engrossed in your conversation to look for obstacles.

You really only did it when you two were at the base. Sylus didn't mind, though. In fact, it was almost endearing, the way you were comfortable enough to turn off your spatial awareness.

He couldn't always be around to steer you away from obstacles, though.

And you, unfortunately, had a habit of walking around while looking at your phone instead of where your feet were going.

You'd done it again today. But this time, it had caused a problem.

You were walking down the stairs to get a drink, completely fixated on a video you were watching, not a single worry in the world about the steps. Sylus had chided you for it before, but it had never been an issue....until now.

You stepped too far forward and immediately ate shit the rest of the way down the stairs. Your phone clattered to the floor, ending up several feet away. Mephisto witnessed the entire thing and had the nerve to squawk at you.

To add insult to injury, Sylus just so happened to be rounding the corner just in time to see your disheveled figure crumpled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

He was careful not to jostle you when he knelt down.

"Can you move?"

You wiggled your fingers, your toes. Flexed your wrist, rotated your arms. Despite the horrendous pain in your side, you could still move. You answered his question with a nod.

He picked you up as gently as he could, holding you princess style with both arms, being extra careful.

"Were you on your phone?" He asked, already eyeing the evidence on the floor. The screen was shattered, but the sound of the video you'd been watching was still coming through the speakers. He'd warned you about walking distracted before, but was usually there to be a hero. Not this time.

"Maybe,"

He refused to get more than three feet away from you for the next several hours, constantly offering to get you various things you may need. Water? He's on it. A snack? You bet. Heating pad? Consider it done.

If you had known that accidentally falling down the stairs would cause Sylus to get all soft and cradle you like you were made of glass for the next few hours, you'd have fallen on purpose a lot sooner.

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

Note

Hiii 💜 can I request LAD short for the boys with a reader who gets arrested (for something stupid) and calls the boy to bail her out? Please and thank you!!

How the boys would react to you getting arrested <3

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader |

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Warnings: Slight violence mention

“This is a free call from Linkon City Corrections Facility from inmate: (Y/N). To accept this call, please press 1.”

☆Xav would definitely come get you ASAP

☆This man trusts your judgement and knows you wouldn't end up in jail without a good reason, so he wouldn't even question you until you're safely in his arms

☆ He'd get there in record time so you didn't have to sit too long

When Xavier answered his phone at 2am, he hadn’t even looked at the screen to see who was calling. He knew you were out with your friends tonight, so he was already by the phone waiting for you to let him know you’d made it home safe. However, he expected your voice on the other end of the line, not a robot telling him that you were currently calling from Linkon City jail.

Xavier blinked rapidly, trying to make sure he’d heard the automated message correctly. The message repeated itself when no button was pushed, confirming that he had definitely not been mistaken.

Xavier immediately pressed 1, listening to another spiel from the robot before the call finally connected. His shoes were on before he even heard your voice.

“(Y/N)?”

“Xavier,” You began, “I promise I’ll explain everything but I need you to come pick me up. Please.”

He’d already been planning on it, but the pleading tone in your voice would have had him folding regardless.

“I’m coming,” He assured you, already halfway out the door.

On the other end of the call, you breathed out a sigh of relief. “I owe you my life,”

The second you get released from custody, he's giving you a hug and telling you to discuss it when you're ready.

When he found out that the reason you were arrested was for clocking a man square in the jaw for being unable to keep his hands to himself, he almost took a turn in a jail cell for the night.

"Xavier, it's okay," You insisted, cupping his face with your hands. "I already took care of it. Can we please just go home?"

"I can assure you it will be handled twice if I see him anywhere,"

❅Zayne definitely comes to get you, but he’s not even gonna pretend that he isn’t a little irritated

❅Imagine working a grueling 16 hour shift as a surgeon, and when you finally sink down into your couch, ready to relax, your phone rings and it’s a a call from jail

❅because that is zayne’s reality and he is STRESSED

❅#ringring #helpiminjail

❅He’d cool off on the drive there, but you’re definitely still getting scolded (absolutely a ‘make better choices’ talk)

❅definitely shows up with heavy ‘disappointed but not surprised’ vibes

You'd gotten arrested for the dumbest thing on the planet.

While out on a walk, your Hunter's Watch notified you of a nearby metaflux fluctation, so you sprang into action without second thought.

You located the Wanderer pretty quickly and gave a good chase, even hopping a fence to put and end to it before it caused any severe damage. Unfortunately for you, the fence you'd hopped just so happened to belong to a private government building. You were very swiftly apprehended and loaded into the police car. The officers refused to hear any of your excuses, charging you with Criminal Trespassing.

You were not going to spend the night in jail over this, so you called the only person you thought might still be awake.

Zayne.

Zayne who, unfortunately, had just gotten home from a horrendously long shift not even an hour before your call came. When the Caller ID popped up for Linkon City Jail, his stomach twisted uncomfortably, already having a pretty good idea of who could potentially be calling him of all people. Initially, he was a whirlwind of frustration and annoyance. Not to mention stressed. His lovely partner, currently sitting in jail like a criminal. He'd leave right away, and most of his frustration would dissipate on the drive to come collect you.

Zayne greeted you with crossed arms and a deadpan expression, waiting until the pair of you got in the car before demanding an explanation. After you explained, his frustration was no longer directed at you, but more so at the absurdity of the situation.

Once you two were parked at his house, Zayne cupped the side of your face in one hand, gently resting his forehead against yours in a much needed gesture of affection.

"Please just try to be a little more careful," He said, his tone surprisingly soft. "I'm going to get grey hairs by the time I'm 30 if I have to keep collecting you from jail,"

❀ let’s be honest Rafayel is probably the reason you’re in jail anyway

❀ probably trespassing to get a material for rare paint or something

❀ he’d be mad at you because how are you supposed to protect him (miss bodyguard) if you’re getting arrested?

You felt your jaw tick as your name was finally called for your one free phone call. Of course, you were going to call Rafayel and make bailing you out his problem, since it was his fault you were here anyway. "If you aren't doing anything, I have a quest for you, Miss Bodyguard,"

"I'm out of a custom color for this painting. It's in a suuuper easy spot. You can do it, right?"

Unfortunately for you, Rafayel had failed to mention that his stupid 'custom paint color' was located in an area that was restricted to the public. Maybe he didn't even know. It was hard to tell with him. Either way, you'd gotten busted trespassing and whisked away in a police car.

When Rafayel's voice connected on the other end of the line, he was already running his mouth before you could say anything.

"'Getting materials for my paint' doesn't exactly sound similar to 'end up in jail.' How did you get them confused?"

"You're not a very good bodyguard. How are you supposed to protect me if you can't even dodge the police?"

"Wait. Why are you even in jail? Don't tell me you like...punched a baby or something,"

When he finally shut up for long enough for you to explain yourself, he laughed the second you finished talking.

"Really? That's it?"

"It's not funny, Rafayel. Come get me out of here!"

"Oh, relaaax. I'll be there in 20," Turns out, that plot of land actually belonged to Rafayel. He'd bought it when he realized he could get specific (rare) paint colors from the resources. The police, however, weren't aware that he'd send anyone other than himself to get anything from there, so when they just so happened to see you as they passed by, you really didn't stand a chance.

Rafayel was absolutely not going to let you live it down, either.

Now, in addition to your 'Miss Bodyguard' nickname, you had a less appealing one.

'Miss Criminal.'

⟡ Sylus is genuinely amused when he gets the call

⟡ "You don't typically hear of kittens allowing themselves to be caught,"

⟡ He knows you had a damn good reason for whatever you did

⟡ He'd come get you and lowkey bully you about it on the way home

⟡ any trace of you being in jail mysteriously disappears from the system less than 24 hours later

Sylus almost didn't answer the phone call.

When the unsaved number popped up on his screen, he instinctively reached to dismiss it. He didn't give his personal cell number out often, so he was well aware of who had this number. There wasn't a single person worth his time that would realistically be calling from an unsaved number.

However, a split second later he realized that he hadn't heard from you for a bit longer than usual.

He cracked a grin the second the robot started speaking, informing him that he was receiving a call from his incarcerated lover.

When the line connected, he spoke first.

"Having a good time, sweetie?"

You could hear the smirk in his voice through the phone, which only added to your annoyance. "Sylus. Please come pick me up,"

"Of course,"

When he arrived to retrieve you, he learned that it was an assault charge. You'd beat up a man nearly twice your size, apparently, and a witness had described you as a menace.

As the two of you exited the building, he looped an arm around your shoulders, asking the only question he cared to ask: "Did he deserve it?"

"Absolutely," You responded. "I'd do it again, actually,"

He chuckled, shaking his head with a fondness reserved for only you. He knew that you were the type to stand on business, and he loved that about you. He was honestly a little proud, even.

"Let's not make this a habit, though." He said, gently tugging your motorcycle helmet over your head. "Stick with me more. You wouldn't have gotten caught,"

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

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You have me // Xavier x Reader

I'm back! Xavier doesn't have enough fluffy fics so I'm here to serve you some fluff. Concept: (Pre-relationship) Tara sets you up on a blind date, Xavier gives you a reason not to go. Tags: Fluff, Sprinkle of angst, getting together, first kiss, possibly slight OOC Word Count: 1985 Masterlist

“You have to get out there! All I see you do lately is work, work and work!” Tara’s voice was on the verge of exasperation as she nagged on, “Ever heard of the work-life balance?”

“I do other things besides work! I do plenty!” You argue back halfheartedly, knowing full well that it wasn’t true. You’ve been swamped at work, wanderers seemingly more active than ever and the reports won’t finish themselves, missions after missions seem to come your way every day.

“Oh yeah? Like what? When was the last time you went out? Last time you went and did something fun? Met new people?” She may be right but you weren’t about to back down so easily.

“I hang out with you and Xavier all the time.”

“We’re your colleagues, we don’t count… Well actually, on that note… How is it going with lover boy?”

“Taraaaaa, please stop. Nothing is going on between us okay? We are simply mission partners and neighbours.” The grin on Tara’s face makes you want to shove her away, heat rising up your neck and flooding your cheeks.

“Sureee sure, and you totally don’t make heart eyes at him every time he walks into the room?” And so you do shove her slightly, turning to walk away before more teasing comes your way, but she catches up to you quickly.

“Welllll, since you insist that you two totally don’t have feelings for each other, and you need a break from work… How would you feel about going on a sort-of blind date with a friend of mine? It’s Andy, if you remember him from the last group game night?” She trails off slightly, a mischievous glint still in her eyes.

“A date? Tara, sorry but no. I don’t have time for dating, between missions and the reports I have to write, I barely have time to eat.”

“You say that, but you still make an effort to hang out with Xavier after work…”

“That’s different, we live in the same building, it’s not like it’s out of the way…Besides, I haven’t even hung out with him in ages…”

“Come onnnn, it’s just one date, and it’s not like you have to get into a relationship with him if it doesn’t go well. Andy is a great guy, trust me! And god forbid, you might make another friend.”

She gives you her best puppy dog eyes.

Goddammit.

A sigh leaves your lips as you smile at her in defeat, “Fine. Fineeee. One date. No harm in that right?”

With your words, Tara squeals in excitement, “Yes!! I’ll set you two up, don’t worry about a thing! I’ll send you the details later!!”

You quickly say your goodbyes to Tara and start walking out of the building, ready to head home and get some sleep. It has been a long few weeks and your lack of rest has started to catch up to you. It was already dark outside as you left, your mind drifting off deep into your thoughts. You did feel slightly guilty about the date, your heart already belonged to another after all.

Your relationship with Xavier was an odd one… You were neighbours, mission partners and close friends. You spent most of your time together, if not at your apartment, then at his. Movie nights, star gazing, take outs. And somewhere along the line, your feelings started to change, butterflies erupting in your stomach every time his hand grazed yours, heart fluttering when he got a bit too close, his deep blue eyes drawing you into a trance.

For some time, you thought it might’ve been mutual. His teasing, his slight blush, the way he seemed so at ease with you. But you must’ve been wrong. He pulled away from you much more as of late, going on missions alone, your hang outs become few and far between, he seemed more distant by the day. You missed him honestly, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you wanted to still be his friend, hang out like you used to. The apartment always felt empty without his soothing presence and soft voice.

Maybe he caught on to you and your feelings and decided to let you down easy by distancing himself?

Maybe this date isn’t such a bad idea, maybe it’s time to move forward and not dwell on these feelings…

“You shouldn’t zone out so deeply when walking home.” A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, your arm swinging out in alarm ready to jab whoever snuck up on you, but was stopped in its tracks with a soft grip. You turn quickly to have a look at the person behind you.

“Xavier! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He has the audacity to look amused as he lets go of your arm.

“I tried calling out your name but it seems you were so deep in thought you didn’t hear me,” raising his hands in surrender, he gives you an innocent look, a playful glint still shining in his eyes. A plastic bag hangs from one arm, filled with what looked like snacks.

You let out a long breath, adrenaline leaving you as you give him a joking glare, “You out for a snack run?”

You walked side by side back to the apartment building, conversation flowing naturally, almost like he had never distanced himself at all. It was nice, cozy even, in the familiarity and ease it brings you.

“Want to come up for a movie night? It’s… been a while since we hung out...” His voice trails off at the end, looking away almost… sheepishly? So he did notice. The avoidance was on purpose then.

But you didn’t let those thoughts take over, you meant it when you said you still wanted to be his friend, no matter how much it hurt. You smile quickly and agree.There was almost an awkwardness that sprouted in the air between the two of you as you stepped into his apartment. It was the same as the last time you were there a few weeks ago, if not slightly messier than usual.

“You set up some movies, I’ll order us some food… same as usual?” You say trying to lighten the atmosphere, as you sit on the couch, phone at the ready.

“Yeah… Sounds good.” He sits next to you, closer than he’d usually would, an observation that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your heart skipping a beat. Fumbling with your phone, you order quickly and put it down on the coffee table in front of you as Xavier scrolls through the movies available, eventually settling on one.

A… rom-com?

You glance at him, confusion written on your face. That is definitely not something Xavier would usually watch, it’d normally be a sci-fi movie or the odd thriller, but a rom-com? That’s new.

Noticing your questioning gaze, he cleared his throat, “I’ve heard some great reviews about this one. Thought… I’d see what the fuss was about.”

His eyes were fixed to the screen moments later.

His ears were red.

What’s happening?

Is- Is this-?

No. It can’t be. What did we say about giving yourself false hope?

But he’s sitting so close! And a romance movie? He’s blushing!

Stop. It’s nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

A chime of your phone broke the silence, the slight tension dissipating.

Tara: All set up!! You good with tomorrow at 7pm? Andy will meet you at the Thai restaurant by work! :D

Shit. You had forgotten about the date. You snatch your phone from the coffee table, hesitating in your reply, cheeks burning, Xavier’s laser focused gaze drifting between your phone and your face.

“You okay? Was that Tara?” So he had seen the screen.

“Yeah… funny story actually…” your voice is weak, “ she’s trying to set me up with her friend Andy. She… is organising a date for us…” You aren’t sure why you feel so embarrassed, it’s not like you are doing anything wrong, you and Xavier aren’t together in that way, so why do you feel like digging a hole and burying yourself in it? The redness in your cheeks deepens under the intense stare pointed your way.

“A… date?” He asks slowly, as if he’s processing the information, his face a blank canvas. You nod meekly, trying to gauge his reaction, but he gives nothing away.

“With Tara’s friend? Someone you know?”

“Well, we haven’t really spoken properly, but he was there last time the group went out for drinks…”

“So you’re going on a date with someone you don’t even know?” There was an edge to his voice now, his brow furrowed as stared at you.

“Tara said he’s a great guy, and that I needed to get out there… So what’s the harm, right?” You don’t know if you’re trying to reassure yourself or him at this point.

“If he’s so great, why didn’t he ask you out himself?”

“He doesn’t have my number?”

“Exactly. You don’t know him. You can’t know what his intentions are. This doesn’t sound safe.” He glances away, but still seems tense, jaw clenching slightly, the makings of a pout forming on his lips. You sigh slightly in response, the redness in your face starting to settle down.

“Tara’s right though, I need to get out there. All I do lately is work, missions and reports are taking over my life. I haven’t even seen you in weeks, so I gotta start somewhere right? Why not start there?” He stays silent for what seemed like hours, the movie still playing in the background but forgotten entirely. His brows remained furrowed, eyes unfocused, still turned away from you. The night crept on, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. You kept glancing at him but not once did he look at you.

“But why start with a date with someone you don’t even know?” Finally, he turned to you, his eyes observing you, searching for something.

“It’s not like I’ve got a line of suitors, might as well try to meet someone new right?”

He pursed his lips in thought.

“You have me.”

He said it so softly, you barely caught it.

What?

“...What?” You breathe out, eyes widening. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“You have me. I…” He takes a deep breath, reaching out for your hand that sits on your leg, “Don’t go on this date. I’ll take you out, if you give me this chance?” His eyes are searching your face, showing the nerves he’s working hard to hide.

Your breath catches in your throat, “Xavier… What exactly do you mean?” Your voice is soft with disbelief, wary to let yourself hope just yet. He gives you a small smile, lifting his hand to tuck some stray hair behind your ear, keeping it there.

“I mean, I want to take you out on a date. I mean that I like you, I have feelings for you. I know I’ve been distant, I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t afford to lose you. You… You are my everything.” He is all you see, his face, his blue eyes, the light dusting of freckles, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. This is happening right? He feels the same?

You take that chance, the chance that these feelings are reciprocated, and you lean in. You lean in, until your lips meet his. It’s a gentle touch at first. And then he starts kissing you back, leaning in further and deepening the kiss. You feel his breath leave him as he sighs into the kiss, his hand travelling to your cheek, cradling you carefully.

Eventually you pull away, air rushing back into your lungs.

“So, you’re not going on that date right?” He breathes out, a playful smirk playing on his lips. A laugh leaves you, as you pull him towards you again.

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

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Is That What You Think? // Sylus x Reader

Guess who's back, back again! Thank you so much for all the replies and support on my other oneshots! Ya'll are incredible <3 As a treat, I'm giving you some hurt/comfort :D Enjoy Concept: (Pre-relationship) Sylus gets hurt, you have an argument and make up Tags: Pre-relationship, getting together, gun violence, blood and wounds, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, first kiss, reader is referred to as 'Miss Hunter' once, swearing Word Count: 2085 Masterlist

You don’t know where it all went wrong. You don’t know when hatred turned into something softer, something vulnerable. The more time you spend with him, the softer the edges of his character seem, the sharpness of his gaze turning to something gentle, the harsh touch into something warm. But the darkness, the danger, still lurks underneath all that. He is harsh, cruel and merciless to others, and you caught glimpses of that often enough. But alone with you? The walls seem to ease slightly, something tender filling the air instead.

He was dangerous. He was trouble. You knew that, and yet you still fell for him. You also knew it wouldn’t be long until these feelings came back to haunt you.

And haunt you they did, when your colleagues, other hunters, took you to the interrogation room in your own workplace.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. We’re just here for a chat.” The first hunter, Kim (at least you think that’s her name) started, confusion and anxiety already stirring within you.

“What do you need to chat about, that you have to take me into the interrogation room?” You keep your voice as steady as you can, not allowing yourself to cower under their serious demeanor.

“You went into the N109 zone recently, did you not?” Kim says, sitting down across from you, her colleague, Tom, slouching in the chair next to her. A file sits in front of them, still closed.

“...Yes, I did.” Your fingers pull on the hems of your sleeves subconsciously.

“Who did you interact with in the N109 zone?” Tim’s gaze narrows slightly, almost accusatory.

“No one of mention, I kept my head down. I left before I got into any trouble. Sorry, what is this about?” You say quickly, something you have practiced many times in preparation, just in case someone caught onto your endeavors.

“What do you know about Onychinus?” Kim got to the point, pen and notebook at the ready. The air was heavy, you had trouble taking steady breaths. The pointed looks in your direction didn’t help, your stomach dropping at the mention of the crime organisation.

“... Not much really, just the rumours that go around the association.”

“Which rumours?”

“That Onychinus deals with illegal weapons, that the hunters association has been trying to hunt them down for years, that they pretty much run the N109 zone?” You carefully avoid mentioning Sylus, sticking to surface knowledge. Surface knowledge is safe, surface knowledge is normal.

“You didn’t learn anything on your trip to the N109 zone?” Tom scoffs slightly, disbelief shining through his eyes. He was putting you on the spot. Is it suspicious to say no? They’ll question why I was there in the first place. Why I left without information. What can I say?

Your words catch in your throat slightly.

“Not really, I left before I got myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of. Again, what is this about?” The front you put up must be convincing as Tom backs off slightly as your hard tone.

“The association is taking up Onychinus as a priority as of yesterday, that’s all you need to know at this point.” Kim states, and questions swim through your mind.

Why is the association moving in on Onychinus? What happened since the last time I talked to Sylus?

The interrogation ended not too long after that, the two hunters trying to dig further into your mind, but you gave them nothing to work with. You made your way back to your desk, leaving the stifling and accusatory atmosphere behind you. Unanswered questions still plagued you, and where better to try to get answers than from the Onychinus leader himself. You leave work quickly, your shift ending before you know it, and you immediately pull up Sylus’s contact info and press the call button.

It rang once, twice, three times, before a deep voice filled your ears.

“What an honour, getting a call from Miss Hunter herself. Did you miss me, Kitten?” He crooned, a teasing note shining through his voice. A small smile spread across your lips, but the tension in your body didn’t let up.

“You wish. Now please enlighten me as to why I was suddenly questioned about Onychinus in my own workplace.”

“Oh? How should I know?” You hear the smirk in his voice.

“What did you do?” You say with a very audible sigh, fingers rubbing the tension from your brow.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. Had a bit of a pest problem, but that was dealt with quickly.”

“Explain.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.”

“And how did this ‘pest problem’ evolve into the association putting a priority on hunting you down?”

“Are you worried about me?” Again with the smirk. It’s very audible.

“Should I be?” You decide to answer the question with your own. He huffed a laugh, before assuring you that there’s nothing to worry about.

A few days later, the situation worsens, and you’re in the worst place for it. You know how they say the wrong place and the wrong time? He had invited you to another auction, and you readily agreed to go with him. Until a group in familiar uniforms storms the auction house, weapons drawn. Chaos surrounded you, the mask on your face obscuring your vision, making it harder to move, harder to fight back and escape. Bullets shot past you, shouting filled your ears, and an arm grabbed you pulling you into a tight embrace. A hand held your head down and a restrained hiss filled your ears.

—=+=---

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Your voice is harsh, even in your own ears. His weight slows you down as you support him while trying to keep pressure on the gash in his side.

“I’m fine, Kitten. This is nothing.” His voice is steady, not even a grimace shown in his expression. If anything, he sounds exasperated. But he’s still leaning on you for support, and that tells you everything you need to know. You lead him through the Onychinus base, all the way up to his room and deposit him on the bed while you go grab the first aid kit.

You move closer to him, tension and adrenaline not letting up as you open the kit, pulling out gloves, gauze and antiseptic.

“You knew this was going to happen. You knew the hunters were going to show up.” You snap, giving him an accusatory glance.

He chuckles slightly, “this was the best way to get rid of the pests infesting my territory. They arrived a little ahead of schedule, but nothing I can’t deal with.” His nonchalance about the situation lights an anger within you, as you start to treat his wound, which wasn’t healing at all, still oozing blood. The first crack in his demeanor shows when you swipe the antiseptic wipe across the gash, cleaning up the blood, not as gentle as you probably should’ve been.

“Careful Kitten, pull back those claws.” His hand engulfs your own, stopping you in your tracks. His crimson eyes are focused on you, studying the furrow in your brow, your clenched jaw and the furious glare shot in his direction.

“Come on now, Sweetie, no need to be upset. I didn’t harm any of your fellow hunters, did I?” His voice is steady, amused even.

“Is that what you think I’m upset about?” Your tone is harsh, unbelieving, as you move to meet his eyes, your expression stone cold, “Sylus. You purposefully put yourself in danger, to what? Mock the hunters association? Add fuel to the already burning fire? You’re not even healing right now. Those bullets? Those bullets neutralise evols, you won’t be healing for a good while yet. And as a hunter, I can tell you one thing. The association is relentless, they will keep coming back. What will happen next time? What if someone gets in a lucky shot? You won’t be walking away with just a gash, you won’t be walking out of there at all. I think I have the right to be angry at how fucking reckless you can be.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, his eyes searching your face, your expression twisted in barely restrained frustration.

“Wouldn’t that be good news for you though? Onychinus finally crumbling? Your little hunters association finally winning? You could probably even get a medal for my death. You should be celebrating that fact.”

You freeze, your hand still reaching for the bandages settled beside you. Your eyes snap to his, disbelief, hurt and many unnamed emotions flashing through your gaze.

“Is that how little you think of me?” Your voice is small, hurt bleeding through every word. You steel yourself, standing up and throwing the bandages on his lap.

There’s no reply as his eyes narrow in curiosity, judging your reaction, smirk slowly falling off of his face.

“Is this all a joke to you?” You scoff, “You know what, no, I’m not doing this right now. I’m going home. Bandage yourself up, see if I give a shit if you bleed out.” Your movement is swift as you grab your bag and jacket, the only thing stopping you from stalking away is a sudden grip on your wrist. You don’t turn to look at him, instead trying to pull your hand away from him. Tears are already swelling in your eyes as you try to blink them away. You will not show weakness now.

“The hunters are still out there, what will they say if someone sees you walking out of the Onychinus base?” His voice is no longer teasing, a more serious tone replacing the carefree one from earlier, “Stay here for now.” He pulls you back towards him, another hiss leaving his mouth as he jostles the wound on his side.

“Sweetie? Look at me.” You still refuse to turn around, words caught in your throat. The sting from what he said still makes your heart ache.

“Kitten, I was wrong. I’m sorry for insinuating that you wouldn’t care.” He says softly, voice trembling slightly as he continues, “I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but the one thing I don’t regret is keeping you safe, even if it risks my own wellbeing.” His hand moves to hold yours, thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

The frustration and hurt still simmer under your skin, and you finally turn to meet his eyes.

“I can’t lose you Sylus. I care about you too fucking much. And I hate it, I tried to fight it, trust me. But I can’t help it. Is that wrong?” You let out an unamused laugh, a fresh set of tears filling your eyes. His eyes widen at your words before softening to a tender gaze. He pulled you towards him, until you were close enough for him to wrap his arms around your waist, his face nuzzling into your middle.

“I can’t lose you either Kitten. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you while I was right there. Never once have I lied to you, so I won’t promise you that I won’t put myself in harm’s way if it means you’ll be okay, but I can promise you, you won’t lose me. I’m here and I plan to stay.” His voice is muffled against your shirt, his arms tightening before moving away just enough that he can look up at you.

“I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but loving you is different. You make me feel things I never thought I could feel. It’s terrifying.” The words seem hesitant, a vulnerability he doesn’t seem quite ready to admit.

The anger towards the man in front of you starts to melt away as you sigh. Your eyes close for a second, before opening and meeting his gaze. Your hands move to the sides of his face, cradling him gently.

“I love you too Sylus, but if you ever do this again I’m going to kick your ass.” You pinch his cheeks slightly as you say this, before moving closer, your lips landing on his. His lips are slightly chapped against your own, but still incredibly smooth, gliding against yours. His hands start to move up to your face, before he pulls away quickly, a grimace twisting his expression. You smile fondly, before moving to pick up the discarded bandage from the bed.

“Let’s get you bandaged up first.”

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

Text

Rely On Me // Xavier x Reader

This was a request made by @sadfragilegirl for a comfort fic! Thank you for the request, this is for you <3 Concept: Xavier notices you struggling, all he wants is to be there for you. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, a wee bit of angst, burnout, anxiety, gn! reader Wordcount: 1010 Masterlist

Xavier started to notice the signs a couple of weeks ago, at first brushing them off as a bad day. That bad day turned into two, then three, then a week. The sparkle in your eyes started to fade as the days went on, but every time he tried to bring it up, he only received a weak smile and an even weaker assurance that you were fine.

Fine. He grew to dislike that word, because you were not fine. Cancelling plans, taking longer to reply, sleeping more, your smile that once lit up the room not quite reaching your eyes. He opted to support you on the side, after many failed attempts to get you to talk, waiting patiently for you to open up to him about the worries and thoughts that plagued you, being a silent pillar of support, ready to catch you when you fall.

He racked his brain about what had happened to make you like this, but nothing came to mind. The frustration that built up in him was almost overpowering. He wasn’t frustrated at you, never, but at the fact that he couldn’t figure out how to make this better, how to stop whatever was hurting you. And so he invited himself over to your place often, bringing food and making sure you ate said food, to ensure that you slept well and knew that he wasn’t going anywhere.

It all came to a point on one of these visits, when you seemed to shut down further, not even having the energy to joke around like you usually would. He needed to do something, anything. He wanted so desperately to be there for you, it killed him to see you so down. So he made his move when the two of you sat on the couch, a movie playing in the background. Your eyes were glazed over when he glanced at you, not paying attention to the movie even slightly. With a sigh, he moved to turn the tv off, turning to face you fully. You snapped out of your daze, confusion painted on your features.

“Okay, wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” His voice was soft, the serious tone and furrow in his brow a striking contrast to the usually easygoing attitude he displayed. Your eyes widened slightly as your breath caught in your throat. His hand settled on yours, thumb stroking across your knuckles in a way he hoped was soothing.

“What do you mean?” You tried to laugh it off, awkwardly glancing to the side. You felt that if you met his gaze, he’d see right through you, and that was the last thing you wanted. You didn’t want to worry him, to burden him with your problems.

“Please look at me darling,” He says, his other hand gently guiding your face back to him, “Something’s been bothering you for a while now. I tried to give you your space, but I can’t anymore. Talk to me, let me be here for you. Please.” The pleading look in his eyes made guilt stir up inside of you. Has it been that obvious?

“Xavier, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” A weak argument, you know it was. The hand on your cheek pulled you forward slightly, until he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Don’t shoulder your burden alone, I’m here aren’t I? Your trustworthy partner. Rely on me a little. Don’t shut me out.” With his words, your will began to crumble, as you inhaled shakily. Your hand turned to grip his, as the burn of tears welled behind your eyes. Resignation seeped into your voice as you gave in and told him everything that has been running through your mind these last couple of weeks, the anxiety, the stress, the burnout, the way nothing ever seemed to go to plan. You were drained. Physically, emotionally drained. And you didn’t know how to get out of the pit you found yourself in, not for the lack of trying.

Tears soon streamed down your face as you got pulled in closer, right into his lap, arms coiling around you in a firm, yet comforting embrace. Your face smushed into his chest as you let go, the more you talked the more tears streamed down your cheeks. He stayed quiet, letting you take your time to unload everything, only letting you know that he was here. He was listening. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was right there with you.

When you finished venting, he pulled you away slightly, just far enough to brush your tears away, soft kisses left on the corners of your eyes.

“What can I do for you right now? Do you need comfort? A distraction?” He finally spoke up, his soft blue eyes scanning your face. He already travelled through time for you, he would move mountains, he would scorch the world for you, if you just asked.

“I… I don’t know. Can… can you just hold me?” Your voice was weak, but the grip on his hand did not let up.

“Of course darling. Come here.” He guided you gently back into his arms and you quickly nuzzled in closer. He was warm, comforting, exactly what you needed. One of his hands traced across your back as he started humming softly, and you felt the adrenaline leave you. Your shoulders sagged, the tension that had built there so long escaping, exhaustion taking over.

“I love you, my darling. Please, don’t let it build up again like that. I’ll always be there, so don’t try to go through it alone again, because you really don’t have to.” At his words, your arms around him tightened, pulling yourself even closer.

“I love you too Xavier. I’m sorry for keeping this from you.”

“You don’t need to apologise to me. Just rest now, I’ve got you. We’ll work it out in the morning.” You felt a kiss press into the crown of your head as you finally let yourself fall into the enticing lull of sleep.

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

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Xavier is for the girls who have never been anyone's first choice, but they deserve to be

The girls who are begging for someone to just listen to them without judgment.

Xavier is for the girls who crave unconditional love that will find them in every universe

Xavier is for the girls who continuously searched and craved for the feeling of safety, comfort and security all their life

Xavier is for the girls who want a partner that can have philosophical conversations one minute and be a total goofball the next.

Xavier is for the girls who feel like they blend into the crowd but really they’re the shining star

Xavier is for the girls who love quality time with there partner

Xavier is for the girls who want a love that’s irreplaceable.

Taglist 🏷️ @calistaxoxo24 @mariojins

@nezuswritingdesk @swaggyv1v1

@ashsillyrants @wintereve3 @deejse

@lucidreamsea @monsochhichi @sxkura-blxssxm

@princessofenkanomiya @yeompei

@lady-wallace @weepingangel2222 @eolivy @inspiredfairy @wordsgodeep @reit0o @shinreiplays @kithyyy @ruenaie

@theoceanisas0up @rosiesluv

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1-delululand-1 · 10 days ago

Text

drowning | sylus

— summary: sometimes, you don’t realize you’re drowning until it’s too late. he’s always there to throw you a life preserver when you need it. — cw: depression, anxiety, self-deprecating thoughts, mild angst, comfort, mild language, sylus is a big ol’ softie — notes: i felt heavy today. i needed to escape to my delusions to get through it. thanks for reading. — now playing: chaconne - enhypen

You, but refusing to get out of bed because the world’s too heavy a burden to bear right now.

You try to encourage yourself to at least shower—you smell like depression and yesterday’s outside clothes. Sometimes, that’s enough to lift your spirits. The motivation of a warm spray unfurling the knots in your shoulders.

You try to force yourself to get up and eat—you like to eat. Your stomach’s screaming at you. You haven’t had shit since lunch yesterday, and it feels like something’s sinking its claws into your stomach and pulling down.

But that’s not enough to get you out of bed. It’s the safest place for you right now. It doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t doubt you, doesn’t admonish you for the one wrong thing you do against twenty other rights. And you’re bundled up like a little sulking burrito in your comforter, refusing to do more than turn over and pray for sleep to tug you under.

However, sleep’s lulling embrace never comes,

Your thoughts are too much to deal with. Everything is too much. Caving in. You know it’s best for you to be around people. To reach out, but you’ll feel even shittier for dumping your problems on your friends, no matter how much they tell you they’re more than happy to listen. No matter how much you try to solve everyone else’s problems for them.

Besides, you don’t want to look weak. You hate it when people worry about you. You’re a pillar of strength for most everyone in your life. How are you going to take care of everyone else when you can’t even get yourself together?

Your phone buzzes by your pillow for the umpteenth time. You squint against its brightness, the jarring blue light the only source of color in your dark room. You have no sense of time. Don’t have to look at your screen to know he’s calling you again.

You’ve been avoiding him like a sickness since you got off work yesterday—another person you don’t want to drag into your caldron of misery.

You shove your phone under your pillow after silencing it, cocooning yourself deeper into your blanket and the turmoil of your mind. You’ll be better tomorrow, you promise. You always snap back after a day or two. Then you’re back to being the bright and obnoxious source of optimism everyone knows and loves.

You’ll talk to him later. When you’re better and not a husk of yourself, and your stomach isn’t empty while your brain is too full.

Too bad he has no intention of waiting for you to get your shit together.

Your bedroom door creaks open.

You turn away from it, curling up into a little hissing ball as the artificial light of your hallway spills in. Your thick, shag rug swallows the sounds of weighted footsteps. They near the edge of your bed, and you shut your eyes tight, receding further into your comforter.

A tongue clicks in disdain, a heavy presence looming over you. Your stomach lurches when the familiar drag of his voice permeates through the comforter.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” There’s a note of humor buried deep beneath the chiding, the concern.

You stiffen in response. He takes your silence as his cue to carry on with making you feel even shittier.

“Is there a reason you’ve been more difficult to get a hold of than the President?”

You flinch as if physically struck. You hate when he talks to you like that. Like there’s a lecture churning in the clouds, rolling over the horizon.

You swallow, realizing how fucking dry your throat is. Your lips quiver, struggling to form around words, also cracked and crusted with small flecks of blood. When’s the last time you had water?

“Go away,” you meekly manage.

The room’s other occupant huffs something offended. “I came all this way to check on you, and this is how you repay me? Your ability to discard me when you no longer find me useful is…assuring.”

You release a weighted sigh. Shaky. You don’t intend to be mean. You just…don’t want him to see you like this. Especially not him.

You spend some time in thick silence, listening to your heart thrum. And it is then you realize it’s raining outside. He came all this way in the rain? Well, fuck.

Your mattress dips under his weight. A gentle hand falls onto your ankle, thumb smoothing over the jut of bone there through layers of goose feather. You hear him swallow. Picture him, a hulking mass of silver and intimidation, trying to approach you without exacerbating things.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” he asks, cautious like you’re a cornered animal he’s afraid to scare off.

Your stomach pulls. Again, you despise sympathy. Making people fret over you, especially when it’s him. You’ve spent most of your life fending for yourself. Putting on this fake mask of optimism. He’s got his own things to worry about without you adding one more hardship to his life.

You remain silent, and he presses. Spindly fingers crawl beneath the comforter, seeking out the smooth glide of your skin. Your calf. He rubs soothingly. Your instincts tell you to pull away, but the warmth of his palm is grounding—an anchor in the face of a tidal wave threatening to wash you away.

“Talk to me. Please. I haven’t heard from you all night. Not a word today. I tried to give you space. But I was worried.”

And there it is. The nail driven into the coffin.

It’s not intentional, but you sink deeper regardless, that gnarling feeling twisting up your gut. A warm film of tears washes over your eyes. You tamp it down, shove away the frustration. Your voice strains.

“I’m alright, Sy. Just tired.”

You feel him turn on the bed, his knee nudging your back. His hand slides to your hip where he kneads it between careful fingers.

“I don’t believe that.”

You scoff, the sound of it sticky. Of course, he doesn’t. You can’t fool him. He’s too smart for his own good. Sometimes knows you better than you know yourself.

Before you can think, he’s curling around you. Notches his pelvis up against your bottom, tangling your legs together, dragging you closer against the hard press of his body, into the circle of his arms. You owlishly blink as he slots his chin in the junction of your shoulder. Want to laugh because you’re a complicated mess of limbs and bedsheets.

You smell him even through the thick layers of your comforter. He smells like petrichor, spring, and stale cologne. The warmth he exudes is dizzying. Comforting, causing your lids to grow heavy.

He breathes deep behind you. Hums low in his throat, voice vibrating your back and playing up your spine like a xylophone. You contemplate wriggling out of his embrace. You don’t deserve his sympathy—his pity. But his embrace around your middle is possessive as if to convey, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s on your mind,” he says, voice steeping low, gritty like sand caught between your toes after a day on the beach. He presses full lips against the slope of your jaw.

“But know that whatever storm you’re weathering, you don’t have to endure it alone.”

That’s the dam-breaker.

Tears spring to your eyes faster than you can think. A bitter sob forces its way past your lips. Why does he have to be so fucking sweet?

He holds you tighter as your body shakes. As you let go of everything you’ve been holding in for the past few months. Strokes reassurance into your stomach with his thumbs, nuzzling further into the hollow of your shoulder. Whispers words of encouragement and it’s alright’s in between your hiccups and apologies.

He doesn’t let go even long after your tears have dried up, and the rain’s let up outside. You feel sleep nipping at your psyche, at the edges of your vision. Maybe you just needed a good cry to tire you out. Open up those floodgates of contaminated water you’ve been fighting to contain.

But before you sink under, your boyfriend softly murmurs in your ear, “Ah ah ah. I bet you haven’t showered all day. I can smell it.”

You reach back to pinch his hip, a scowl screwing up your face as his chest shakes with affectionate laughter. You roll your eyes and wrench yourself free of his embrace. Snatch the blanket off your head—it was getting hot under there, anyway.

Sylus moves to the edge to draw you between his legs, a disarming smile cresting over his lips as he holds you at the waist. “There’s my girl,” he croons, pressing your foreheads together. Kisses you quick, but it's enough to leave you breathless.

You let him lead you to your bathroom to wash up. He leaves you to your own devices as the shower’s comforting spray washes over your skin. You lather up with your favorite body wash, the scent working as a soothing balm over your nerves.

He has your favorite robe and slippers waiting for you when you get out. Sits you on top of the toilet to dry your hair off. Maybe he uses a little too much leave-in conditioner, but he’s smiling all fond as he detangles your hair the way you taught him before taking his time blowdrying your hair.

He drags you into your kitchen for your favorite takeout. Entertains you with stories about the twins running him ragged. When you’re full and laughing and your cheeks ache from smiling so much, he holds you in your bed until your eyes grow heavy again. Hums something lucid, raspy.

“Sy,” you say with your back to him, voice weighed with sleep.

“Hmm? Yes, sweetheart?” he replies, lazily pulling at some strands of your hair. It feels good, pushing you further under.

“Thank you.”

You hear the smile in his voice. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you.”

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