wc: 720
gn reader, soft sylus, exhaustion, fluffy comfort!
Your day was exhausting. Too many people, too much noise, too much everything. You left feeling dizzy and strained, not even having the energy to text Sylus that you were coming over. You're sure he'll understand; he shows up to your apartment uninvited quite often, and you never complain. You stop by your place on the way to change into more comfortable clothing, then pull on your helmet and hop on the bike he gifted you.
Luckily, you manage to stay fully awake for the entire duration of your drive to Sylus's manor and park smoothly in his garage beside his favorite bike. You're sure he knows you're here by now; his security system is incredibly robust and likely identified your face on your way into his garage.
You scan your thumb on the reader, and the door unlocks with a happy-sounding chime and a little caw sound effect. You can't help but smile a little, remembering how you asked the twins to help you implement it, and how the two gleefully complied, offering to record his reaction as well.
The way his eyes widened with surprise and then softened with fondness as he chuckled still lives in your mind, the memory brightening your days. Part of you expected him to change it, but he never has. Your little project of adding small, cheery touches to his home has been going surprisingly well.
You rub your eyes as you make your way through his side door, toeing off your shoes in the entranceway and trudging forward. You check each room as you pass by, looking for signs of Sylus's presence. Empty, empty, empty… You eventually reach his study, and there he is.
He's in an ornate armchair, reading, with one of his favorite records playing in the background, filling the air with a gentle melody. You feel an incredible weight lifted from your shoulders just from breaching the threshold, causing your posture to relax and a yawn to escape your throat. It smells like him in here.
Sylus doesn't seem surprised to see you, merely placing his book aside and opening his arms in invitation with a smile. "You should have said something about coming to see me. I would've prepared you a drink."
You hum lowly in response, your brain far too scrambled to prepare anything coherent to say. You just take his invitation, crawling into his lap and nestling your head into his chest, curling into him. The day's tension melts from your frame, and from Sylus's as well. He lets out a soft sigh, pressing tender kisses to your hair and enveloping you in his embrace. He almost seems to be purring.
"Your presence is a lovely surprise, sweetie." He murmurs, pulling you closer, smothering you with affection. His kisses travel down to your neck, and he snuggles into you, the tip of his nose nuzzling into your soft skin, a smile curling his lips. "Long day? Hmm?"
You wrap your arms around his torso and whine. A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest, his hand sliding beneath your shirt to slowly stroke up and down your spine. "Alright, alright, no more teasing."
His chest is so warm beneath your cheek, his arms holding you close and insulating you from the harsh world outside. You're enveloped in a safe little bubble, free to let go without fear of judgment, free to recharge without having to rely on solitude. It's as if the universe is just the two of you, and you've never felt safer.
"Naptime?" he whispers, and you nod, cozy and drowsy, your mind fixating on the rhythm of his heartbeat and the vibration of his voice resonating through his chest. He hums, placing a kiss on your jawline. "Rest. You did well today. You should be proud."
At this, you open your eyes to look up at him, meeting his gaze. "Really?" you ask, something in your expression making him chuckle fondly.
"Yes, kitten, really. You know I don't offer empty praise." Your eyes start to water, causing Sylus's to soften tenderly. He shushes you, tucking your head back into his chest with his free hand and threading his fingers through your hair, soothing your tears.
"I'm proud of you. Never forget that. Rest well for me, sweetheart. I'll stay right here by your side."
you wake to a gentle hand on your shoulder, shaking you delicately to gain your attention, as if afraid of harming you. you ignore it, burying your face in your covers and hiding from the intrusive figure.
they're persistent, though, and they turn you over, keeping you from curling back up into your protective ball. you whine, but comply, seeing as the strength behind the hand was determined to keep you awake.
you crack your eyes open and are met with a pair of ruby-red ones staring back at you with concern. it's who you expected, though you're not disappointed. you're just tired.
you try to push his hand off your shoulder, and he moves it to cup your face instead, running his thumb underneath your eye socket. his eyes search yours, even though you can barely keep them open.
"sweetheart," sylus whispers, patient as always. you won't be able to push him away that easily, even if you'd do anything you could to go back to sleep right now. you've already wasted the whole day; what difference would it make to waste a little more?
he's more stubborn than you are, though. he taps your cheek when your eyes droop closed again, and you begrudgingly open them for him, knowing he's waiting for your attention. you don't want to waste his time.
"did you take your medication?" he asks, his voice still steady and calm. you shake your head no. he doesn't respond with frustration, simply nodding and pulling your pill organizer and a glass of water over with his evol.
he presses his hand to the center of your back, gently guiding you upwards, even though you whine in complaint. "i know, i know. just sit up for me and take these without choking, then we can take a nice, long break."
you begrudgingly comply, letting him feed you the pills a few at a time alongside sips of water. it doesn't take you long to finish them, and once you do, sylus rewards you with affectionate kisses all over your face. even if you try to complain a little, he knows you love them.
the pill container and glass are returned to their place with a swish of his evol, and he doesn't waste a second before climbing into bed beside you, smoothly pulling you into his secure, warm embrace as he does so.
by the time he's settled, you're all bundled up in his arms, enveloped in him in one of your favorite positions. chest to chest, his hand beneath your shirt to rub your back and press you just that little bit closer. you sniffle and nestle your head into the crook of his neck, hiding from his scrutinizing gaze. he lets you.
"i love you." his words are simple, yet they convey centuries worth of longing and adoration. "you can sleep all day if you'd like. just don't shut me out. let me sleep with you." his whispers brush against your shoulder as he presses a tender kiss there. "let me love you. that's all i ask, darling. let me remain in your life."
"okay," you whisper, and though your brain is foggy from sleep, you could swear he begins to purr. either way, your mind is soothed for the moment, and you drift back off to sleep, knowing you won't ever have to do so alone.
Description: With the sky people driven out, you and So'lek try to live a normal life without your clan.
Warnings: Pregnancy, descriptions of childbirth, mentions of war, canon typical violence, death.
Word count: 4k
A/n: Buckle up
After the battle of the Hallelujah Mountains, you and So’lek were alone. With the Trr’ong clan practically wiped out, the few who did survive joined other clans. You and So’lek did not. Instead, the two of you moved on your own, living in solitude.
You saw the way the battle had hardened your mate, filled his spirit with vengeance. However, you could not deny it had the same effect on you as well.
Many nights following the loss of your clan, you wept in each other's arms, mourning the loss of your family, friends, and clan. With the RDA driven out, neither of you had anywhere to place your bitterness. So, you did the best you could to have a somewhat normal life.
Constantly being on the move wasn't easy, especially with it just being the two of you. You would take rests at other clans' camps, never staying more than a day or two.
You were beginning to get accustomed to the routine: wake up, hunt, rest at camp, leave the next day, repeat.
That was until you fell ill.
It came on suddenly, a sickness beyond what you have ever felt before. It wasn't exactly debilitating, but it definitely slowed you down. Your symptoms began as a sluggish feeling in your bones; you assumed it was exhaustion from your travels.
Then came the vomiting, the slightest smell that normally would not bother you, twisted your insides until you expelled the contents of your last meal. Beyond that, you did not have many other symptoms. The problem was that this sickness persisted longer than it should.
Weeks had passed, and you still hadn't gotten better. So’lek was immensely worried, doing everything he could to help you, trying every remedy he could think of. This was all futile, as none of these methods seemed to work.
You assured him you were fine, and this would pass. As much as he wanted to believe you, he could not. So, much to your chagrin, he decided to take you to the Aranahes tsahik, Asahe.
The two of you had been in good relations with the Aranahe. He was hopeful that their tsahik would see you. You made the journey to Hometree, not without a string of complaints from you the entire way. He assured you that this was necessary, that after this, you would be better and things would go back to normal.
That was the farthest from the truth.
-
Once you arrived at Hometree, So’lek, ever the gentleman, and also a dramatic, carried you to their tsahik. “Ma So’lek, I can walk, let me walk.” Exasperated, you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, but he did not budge.
“Yawne, you need not exhaust yourself even more.” He continued to carry you the entire way to the healing circle, not without a sly smirk on his face, one that only you could pick up on.
Lying you down on the mats, he moved away just enough to take your hand in his, while also giving the tsahik room to work. She hummed as she examined you, and then abruptly paused, as if she had already figured out what troubled you.
“Oh ma’ite, you are not ill,” She gave you a knowing smile, but you, however, did not know what she was trying to say.
“She has been ill for weeks. How is there nothing wrong?” So’lek questioned her, slightly frustrated but more so confused. She smiled at him again, with a warmth that you could only see when great news is heard.
“This is no sickness, you are with child.” Your heart skipped a beat at this; the world narrowed in focus. With child? How could this be? Although you had to admit, you and So’lek were not very careful, but you never thought this would happen. Not now, not when you two were still discovering your place without a clan.
Asahes warm smile remained on her face, as if she could not see any reason this could be worrying news. Finally, snapping out of your trance, you looked up at So’lek. He had the same deadpan expression you wore, trying to make sense of what he just heard.
“I will leave you now to discuss,” noticing your shock, Asahe left the room, leaving you and So’lek alone.
After what felt like ages, the tension was clawing at your skin. “So’lek, please say something,” you pleaded with him. Finally, he snapped out of his daze, studying your face carefully, as he chose his next words.
“We’re going to be parents.” There was no hint of distaste in his words, only disbelief. Tearfully, you nodded, tightening your grip on his hand that never let go.
Looking down at your hand in his, then back up to your face, his free hand travelled to your stomach, carefully resting there. His face broke out into the most pure, real smile you had seen since before the war.
“This is the greatest of news,” letting out a breathy laugh, you choked out your next words, tears flowing down your cheeks. “Are you not afraid, So’lek? This child will have no clan, what kind of life is that?”
He only shook his head, “They will still be Trr’ong, we will share the stories of our clan, so that they will never forget where they came from.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing you in. Then, leaning down to press his lips to your not yet swollen stomach.
“Nga yawne lu oer,” He spoke to not only you, but your growing child as well.
“Nga yawne lu oer,” you spoke back, lovingly running your hand through his hair.
-
The months that followed were not easy, navigating pregnancy and travelling. You often stayed at camps longer now, giving you ample rest. Especially as your belly began to swell.
Oh, did So’lek revel in the sight. It brought him great pride to see you swollen with his child. His chest filled with warmth whenever he saw you rest your hands on your bump, tenderly rubbing back and forth.
At night, when it was just the two of you, he lay his head on your belly, speaking words of endearment to your child.
“Your Sa’nu is a fierce warrior, even if she claims not to be; you are already so loved and protected, Ma’itan.”
“What makes you think we are having a son, Ma yawntu?”
He only smiled up at you, your head filling with fuzzy warmth. Oh, how you loved him. He was already an amazing, loving father. You could not wait to see him hold your child in his arms, whispering softly to him.
“I just have a feeling,” he said, as if Eywa herself revealed to him that he would have a son.
“Well, we shall see if your feelings are correct.”
“Yes, we shall,” and with that, he laid his head back down, continuing to whisper to your child.
-
It was nearing the child's arrival, and your belly had doubled in size. No longer could you travel; now you resided with the Aranahe while you waited.
“What should we name him?” So’lek asked, looking at you carefully. He wanted to hear your ideas first.
You hummed in thought, hand resting on your belly. “Well, since you are so set on us having a son, I was thinking we name him Ikmay.”
He smiled, laying a hand on your face, “Ikmay is a strong name.”
With that, it was decided, now all you had to do was wait.
-
You did not have to wait long. Only three eclipses passed before the labor started.
So’lek rushed you to the tsahik, trying to hide his anxiety, but he was failing. He sat behind you, his chest to your back, as you gripped his hand with crushing force.
He held back a wince, knowing that your pain was greater than his.
He was there as you gasped in pain, cooing softly and speaking words of encouragement as you brought your child into the world.
“I do not know if I can do this,” exhausted, you lay your head against his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your hairline and wiped the sweat from your forehead with a wet cloth.
“You are so strong yawne, you can do this. Just a little longer, and we will have our child in our arms.”
This brought you back to reality, readying yourself for the next contraction. Gritting your teeth as you felt each wave of pain.
“Push now, my child,” Asahe said as she knelt before you, ready to catch your baby as he came out. With one final, excruciating push, it was done.
You fell limp against So’leks’ chest as soon as you heard the shrill cry of your baby, sobbing from the overwhelming emotions you were feeling.
Ikmay, who was in fact a boy, was laid on your chest, and you made tsaheylu with him. Your breath came out in ragged spurts, still reeling from the pain you felt moments ago.
That was all washed away once you bonded with your son. You wept as you felt his fuzzy mind, how it was filled with warmth and love for you, seeking the comfort of his mother's embrace. So’lek wept as well; he couldn't believe that he had a son, he was a father.
He placed his hand on the back of Ikmay's head, rubbing his thumb softly back and forth. You tore your gaze from your son, looking up at So’lek. “We have a son,” he smiled back at you, “He is beautiful, he has a strong heart, like his Sa’nu. You were so strong, Ma yawntu.”
The two of you sat like that for some time, soaking up every moment with your son. Hardly able to believe this was real, you were parents.
“Ma So’lek, hold your son,” you said as you handed him off. He carefully, with shaking hands, took him from you. More tears crept through his eyes as he felt his warmth, saw his tiny features; he looked so much like you. He held out his free hand to him, Ikmay grasping his finger with his tiny hands, barely able to wrap his fingers around one of his.
You moved to help him make tsaheylu with him, and that is what finally broke So’lek. He wept harder as he bonded with his son, overwhelmed by the sheer love he felt for not only him, but you as well.
You spent a while like this, sheltered in your own little world. Filled with love and admiration for the family you created. Together.
-
Years had passed since then. You and So’lek welcomed two more children into your lives. Another son, Lew’eyn, and then a little girl, Yuwe. Both with strong spirits, just like Ikmay, just like you, and So’lek.
Fifteen summers had passed since the birth of Ikmay, thirteen since Lew’eyn, and nine since Yuwe. You cherished the family you have created. Never once did you let them forget where they came from, their roots in the Trr’ong clan.
Life was seemingly perfect. So’lek was an amazing father, soft, encouraging, and hard when he needed to be.
Ikmay had grown into a strong young man and had already completed his Iknimaya. You could see his father's spirit in him; he will make a fine warrior. He was level-headed, responsible, and took care of his siblings.
Your second son, Lew’eyn, was just as fierce. While he was still navigating his journey into becoming a man, he tried his best to prove himself to you and So’lek. You both saw his determination. While he may not have been as level-headed as Ikmay, he was still young, still learning. So’lek encouraged him endlessly, raising him to be strong.
Yuwe, your sweet Yuwe, was timid, but just as strong. You saw yourself in her a great deal. She had a gentle spirit towards everything around her, but she also had the fire of her father's spirit. You knew she would grow to be just as strong as her brothers, with your and So’leks’ guidance.
-
They were at the age where you could leave the children alone, with Ikmay. Often, you and So’lek would have ‘date nights’. Soaring through the sky on your ikrans, running through the forest just as you did when you were young, freshly mated, swimming in the lakes, splashing each other, laughing until your faces hurt. Moments like these made you feel young again, made you forget the troubles of your past.
One night, everything changed.
You and So’lek were lying on the moss, high above the trees on the mountains, gazing up at the stars. You curled up next to him, laying your head on his chest, your knee curled up onto his lap. He gently stroked your head, occasionally planting gentle kisses there. How could anything ruin this?
That question was answered when you noticed something up above. A star that seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. Until finally breaking through the atmosphere. You quickly realized what it was: a demon ship.
It landed with force, burning everything around it.
In absolute shock, you broke down in sobs, clinging to So’lek as he gripped you tight, grounding you. If you had seen the look on his face, it would have told you everything. Years of healing from the bitterness he felt towards the sky people, wasted in an instant.
“We need to get back to the children,” his words came out rough, that familiar edge already made its way back into his voice.
Agreeing, you gathered your things, calling your ikran. The flight back home was sorrowful; it felt as if a hole had been punched through your chest. So’lek remained silent, a hardened look on his face; it was as if he had reverted to who he was the first time the sky people were here.
Once you made it back to your home, you ran to your children, falling to your knees as you held them in your arms.
“Sa’nu, what happened?” your youngest asked, trembling in fear as she looked up at you. So’lek remained by the entryway, staring at you and your children, while they looked to him for answers.
He would not sugarcoat this; he would not lie to them. They deserved to know. So, he told them the truth. “The sky people have returned,” the words came out strained, as it burned him just to speak them.
Your daughter gasped in fear, clutching you tighter. Ikmay stood, giving his father a look that you recognized, the same look So’lek had when the sky people first arrived many years ago.
Right then, you knew your comfortable, happy life you had built was dead. Now your sons are forced to become warriors, and your daughter is clouded in fear.
-
Shortly after, So’lek informed you of the resistance. A group led by sky people who shunned the RDA, who needed Na’vi allies to help them fight. While you did not trust sky people, and you were wary of the idea of bringing your children around them, you trusted your mate. So, you made the journey to Resistance HQ.
They were ecstatic to have you join them. After all, not many Na’vi wanted to associate themselves with the likes of sky people. They were… Nice. Welcoming you quickly, and your children adjusted as well as they could. Ikmay was wary of them, just like his father. Lew’eyn adjusted rather well, making friends with some of the resistance members. Yuwe was shy at first, clinging to your leg, hiding behind you as you spoke to them. She slowly came out of her shell, often tagging behind Ikmay and Lew’eyn. At least she stopped clinging to you as much.
It broke your heart to see what the sky people have done to your family. Never would you have thought your children would be exposed to this, to war, to ruin. The land they once knew, now desecrated, unsafe.
So’lek took on his role with ease. After the return of the Sarentu, he became a mentor to them, guiding them as they learned how to navigate Pandora. Especially when being thrust into it in a time like this.
Much to your dismay, he became harder on your sons. While still loving, the softness they once knew had dwindled. You understood, now it was more important than ever. So’lek was prepared to have Ikmay fight alongside the resistance.
This did not go over well with you. You waited till after eclipse, after the children were asleep, to confront him.
“He is young, So’lek,” you were angry with him; how could he suggest such a thing? How could he be so comfortable sending his son to fight the RDA?
“He is ready, yawne, he is strong,” he looked to you, a stern expression on his face. Clearly, he was not backing down. Your ears pinned, head bowed, tears clouding your vision. So’leks’ heart cracked at this; he knew he had upset you, he knew how afraid you were. The tension in the room was thick, fear and sadness masked by anger.
So’lek strided towards you as you turned away, hand to your heart as you wept. Wrapping his arms around you, he rested his chin on your shoulder. “You have seen what they do, So’lek. I can not lose him, I will not.”
“You will not lose him, yawne, he is capable, I know this. He will not be alone.”
Your sniffles faded, composing yourself, you turned to face him. He rested his forehead against yours, “I know you are scared, as am I, but he can do this.” You nodded, accepting his words, even if they pained you.
“You will protect him?”
“With my life.”
-
That was the reassurance you gave yourself moving forward. Even when it broke you to see how war was hardening your son, just as it did to you and So’lek. You had to admit that So’lek was right. Ikmay was a fine warrior.
He did not rush; he was careful, calculated, just as he had been taught. Taking down RDA sites with ease, killing them before they even had time to think.
Your other children stayed safe. Lew’eyn was not ready to fight, even though he wanted to. He accepted it, knowing he needed to stay and protect his sister. He took on that role with ease. Whenever you went out to fight, he stayed behind, comforting Yuwe as she cried in fear, fear that you would not return.
You did, you always returned to them. Even if you were injured, you returned. You and So’lek could not afford to lose your lives; your children needed you.
With the Sarentu on your side, they worked tirelessly to gather the clans to fight alongside you. This was no easy task; the Aranahe were wary, already scared by the RDA after they killed Asahe, their tsahik. Etuwa stepped into her role quickly; she was more than willing to fight.
Convincing the Zeswa was easier; they were more than happy to join the fight. Seeing how the sky people had destroyed the land, killing the zakru. That unleashed a fire within them. A fire that could only be extinguished once the RDA were destroyed.
-
After gathering the Aranahe and the Zeswa, it was time to strike. Taking down Col Hardings extractor plant would be no easy task, but with their help, it would make it possible.
You and So’lek readied yourselves for battle, applying your paints on each other. You savored this moment with him. You feared that every battle would be your last, that there was a possibility that one of you would not make it back. This fear was amplified as Ikmay was joining you.
“Stay safe, Ma’itan, please come back to me,” you said, laying your hands on his shoulders, taking the sight of him in. He looked like a true warrior, adorned in paints and Na’vi armor.
He nodded, pulling you in for a hug, “I promise, Sa’nu.” You grasped him for a moment longer, holding back tears.
“It is time, we must fly.” You pulled away, going to ready your ikran.
As you looked back at So’lek and your son one last time before flying off, all you could do was pray that Ewya would protect them.
-
The battle was victorious, Col Hardings base destroyed. The Zeswa and the Aranahe celebrated loudly at camp, pleased with their achievements.
You ran to Ikmay, embracing him hard. You reached for So’lek, bringing him towards you to join the embrace, thanking Ewya for returning them to you.
Little did you know this moment of comfort would be cut short.
-
The resistance is celebrating at HQ. Of course, we should celebrate; this was indeed a massive victory. Your children were happy to join the party. Yuwe laughed as she danced with Lew’eyn. Ikmay stood by his father as he talked with Nor. You made yourself busy, helping Teylan with setting things up, talking to other resistance members.
You really were enjoying yourself. You even tried some of Jin-young's Na’vi dishes. While they were… interesting to say the least, you appreciated the effort.
You went to find Teylan at some point, hoping to speak with him, but you could not find him. It appeared that all of the Sarentu had gone off on their own.
Everyone was having a good time. That was until everything went wrong.
It happened so quickly, you didn't have time to think. Mercer knows where we are. You ran to So’lek, looking around for your children, but you could not see them. Everyone was panicking, scrambling to take cover as a blast shot through HQ.
The screams are what horrified you, so many injured, some even dead.
You and So’lek searched for your children. You found Yuwe cowering behind Lew’eyn. Both of them trembling and terrified. You felt a wave of relief that they were unharmed, but the unease in your chest still would not shake, not until you found Ikmay.
You called out for him, but there was no response.
“Did you see where Ikmay went?” You hurriedly asked Lew’eyn, starting to fear the worst. He only shook his head, afraid as well.
Your fears were confirmed when So’lek called out to you, the edge on his voice could only be described as pure grief. Your blood ran cold, the world narrowed in focus. He has to be alive, he has to be. Your body moved before your mind did, rushing to So’leks side. What you found would forever be engraved in your memory.
Ikmay, lifeless, motionless, on the ground. All life stripped from him.
You collapsed, a guttural scream crawled its way out of your chest. So’lek caught you, holding on to you as you wailed. He thought that he was grounding you, but he was grounding himself as well. All he could do was stare blankly at his son as you cried.
You held onto Ikmay's body, “Oh great mother, no, not my son,” you cried.
Turning towards So’lek, you screamed out, “What is the meaning of this? When will it be enough for them? They kill needlessly!” Your voice laced with pure anguish, continuing to cry out, gripping onto your mate as if your life depended on it.
Lew’eyn and Yuwe sat at his feet, sobbing as they watched the scene unfold. So’lek looked towards them, and then to Ri’nela, who at some point had knelt down beside you to lay a comforting hand on your back. “Take the children from here,” He choked out, not able to bear letting his children witness this.
She nodded in agreement, moving your children away from the scene.
So’lek looked to the sky, fighting back tears as he felt your pain mix with his own. How could he let this happen? How could Eywa take his son?
In that moment, he blamed himself. The need for vengeance came back tenfold.
Vengeance, he was sure to get.
I hope you enjoyed! This was an angsty one. Sorry for giving zero comfort. Maybe I'll make a part two.
Pairing: So'lek te Elusa Kiro'itan x Female Tamtey!Reader
Summary: Your pregnancy was a welcome surprise, but unfortunately, it has made your past trauma manifest in a way that nobody expected.
Content warnings: PTSD, angst, nightmares, pregnancy, brief suggestive comment near the end and tooth-rotting fluff hopefully. The name 'Tamtey' is used once but this is basically an 'x reader' I just wanted to use the name - I am sorry if you do not like that lol. I don't think there's anything else but if there is, please DM/comment.
Based on @unikaos 's post🙂↕️
Word count: 3.6k
Divider by @cafekitsune
Life is full of unexpected twists and turns, triumphs and tribulations. You have come to know both sides of life quite well. Escaping from TAP. Working with the Resistance in the Western Frontier. Helping the Aranahe, the Zeswa, and both branches of the Kame’tire clan. Since waking up it feels as though you haven't stopped. It's only recently that you've began to slow down. And for good reason. You're pregnant.
Mating with So'lek was one of those things that was a long time overdue, everybody knew how you two felt about each other, but the fight had to be fought, so bonding just took a back seat for a while. When the smoke finally seemed to settle, So'lek went all out. First he taught you the general order of things, wanting you to learn and understand the Na'vi way after your unfortunately human upbringing. He then made sure that you were absolutely certain it was what you wanted, asking so many times if you really wanted to be with someone like him. Someone with scars. Something so permanent. You reassured him, of course, because you have scars of your own. And the permanence was just a bonus. You couldn't imagine spending your life with anyone else.
Then came the gifts. He crafted you a new bow, impossibly strong and sturdy whilst also being beautiful, baring the marks of the Trr’ong and Sarentu clans. The latter of which he has formally been accepted into by yourself, Ri'nela, Teylan and Rasi, wearing the Sarentu mark on his cheek as you all do. You presented him with a new chest guard to replace the human tactical vest he'd been sporting. He joked that he felt naked without it and whilst you could happily stare at his lean build all day, you just couldn't have him be uncomfortable. He wears it all the time now. Except at home, of course. Anyway, one thing led to another and you finally mated on a beautiful night on Sarentu grounds, surrounded by nature and a glowing Tarsyu that seemed to glow brighter with the new bond, almost like it was signalling So'lek's acceptance into your clan and your life.
That was many many months ago now, and you've never been happier. So'lek is an attentive mate, still getting used to the way things are now and adapting to having the chance to relax. But you're both doing well. You've even been spending more time just relaxing with your mate and your friends at the Resistance base. Everyone is very, very happy for you and So'lek. They were all thrilled to hear that you'd bonded, and doubly so later on when the news came about that you were pregnant. However, pregnancy changes a lot of things and in you, it's brought about a sudden, let's say, personality change.
At first, you were still adjusting to the fact that you were carrying, and therefore going to have, a child. A pure, innocent little being that'd be totally reliant on you and So'lek. Though mostly you for the first months of life anyway. It was daunting to say the least. Your body hadn't yet changed at this point, so nothing really felt all that different.
But then time went on and you started to swell. A subtle difference at first, a little rounding to your lower belly that simply looked like you'd been indulging in too many of those sweet flans one of the Ke’awa Kame’tire taught you to make. But the difference was noticeable. Not only to yourself but to everyone around you. You didn't think it'd be a problem, too happy seeing your baby grow to think anything could go wrong. And then the nightmares started again.
You don't really remember your mother, Kataru. All you know is what you learned through your journeys across the Frontier. You were taken from her, and she was killed. Leaving you and your sister, Aha'ri, to be taken by the RDA for TAP, along with a few other children, and your clan slaughtered.
Your nightmares, however, have a slight change in character. You stand in your mother's stead, fighting to protect your baby. Only for you to be gravely injured, left to die, So'lek's screams of anguish ring in your ears as he too is slain, and the last thing you see before the life seeps out of you, is a human taking your baby away and the infants screams are the very last thing you hear as you fade into Eywa's embrace. Every time, you shoot upright, screaming, panting and sweating with tears cascading down your cheeks. So'lek wakes too, of course he does, he cares about you deeply. But you cannot bring yourself to speak of your nightmare, opting to cry in his arms as he holds you tightly until you fall asleep again. So'lek tries to ask, but any attempt falls flat and he knows better than to push. You will tell him when you are ready. He hopes.
Time goes on, the nightmares continue, your belly continues to grow daily. You've subconsciously began to shield yourself, a hand over your belly most, if not all, of the time. Ears flattening to your head when somebody looks at you a little too long. Posture rigid. Tail swishing a little like you're irritated. Over time it gets worse, your nose crinkling and quiet hisses slipping free whenever someone even walks near you. Anqa briefly compared you to whatever a ‘kitten’ is, because the hisses were so quiet and non-threatening, until you scowled at her playfully. At least that time it ended in humour.
Your behaviour is completely irrational and you know it, but it's like every human around you is a threat to your baby in your mind. You don't verbalise this of course, simply opting to hiss whenever you feel threatened. Which is, frankly, all the time at the Resistance base. And nobody is safe. With time, not even poor So'lek.
During yet another nightmare, you remember Mokasa, offering up your clan to the RDA to protect his own, and for some reason, your trauma addled, pregnant mind has twisted that memory into the idea that nobody can be trusted, human or Na'vi. You end up hissing at him, quite aggressively, on more than one occasion. Once when he came closer to help you get ready for the day, a ritual of sorts that started when you'd mated, and his hand brushed the side of your belly, you'd grabbed his wrist and hissed directly in his face, ears flattened, teeth bared and all. The shock and subsequent guilt were instant, and you apologised with tears in your eyes, rubbing at his wrist even though your grip truly hadn't been tight enough to hurt, like your subconscious was holding you back. The next time it happened was when you were getting off your ikran. You'd briefly lost your footing and So'lek caught you, but again, your mind perceived his grasp as a threat and you'd hissed at him again. That's just two incidents, there have been more. Regardless of it all, he forgave you quickly every time. But he did not forget. It only added to his worry.
You still have yet to verbalise what is going on, but for the most part, the people within the Resistance seem to back off a little, boiling it down to you being a protective first time mother. But you know it's more than that. It's trauma and pain and fear ingrained into every aspect of your being. You've hissed at So'lek a lot less lately. For some reason, your mind seems to have deemed him safe once again, and thank Eywa because it broke your heart seeing the shock in his eyes the few times it happened. You still take issue when he attempts to touch your belly, shrinking away whilst holding your bump until you catch yourself doing it and stop, allowing him to touch you. Specifically, you. Not your bump just yet. Every time with a sheepish expression and downturned ears. So'lek, of course, is saddened by being unable to touch your belly where your child grows, but seeing how distressed you became the few times he's tried, he figures it's best to wait for you to allow it. But as result, he may or may not have caught onto what is wrong, and the realisation weighs heavy in his heart. Like stones pressing down on him. He doesn't know what to do. All he can do is comfort you when you allow him to, and to make sure nobody gets close enough to set you off.
The problem only seems to get worse unfortunately. During another visit to the Resistance base, Priyah came bounding up to you all excited, babbling about how she 'hasn't seen you in ages' (it'd been a week) and you've 'grown so much' since she last saw you (you really haven't, maybe half an inch). She then makes the mistake of reaching a hand out towards you, ready to touch your belly, and your mind flashes with the images of a human stealing your baby from you whilst you and So'lek lay dying on the ground. The reaction is instant. Your body drops into a low squat, one hand guarding your belly and the other raised slightly, ears pinned to your head, maw parting to reveal sharp teeth as a violent hiss rips out of you, stopping quite literally everybody in their tracks as the sound echoes around the cave, sounding more like a thanator than a Na'vi. Your tail lashes violently behind you and nobody breathes, nobody moves but So'lek, his lean form crossing the room to stand by your side, an arm in front of you in case you do more than just hiss. Poor Priyah looks terrified, her hands darting away from you as Anqa comes forward to guard her, Priyah's hands quickly clutching onto Anqa's shirt. The protective and fearful motions are what stop you, and your hand moves to your face, covering your mouth slightly.
“I.. I'm sorry,” you gasp, shame trickling up your spine and making your chest feel tight before you rise up to full height, spin on your heels and run out of the base with So'lek on your tail. He follows you closely until you reach an isolated cliff, coming as close behind you as he can. He watches your body language closely, looking for tension, but when there is none, he steps up behind you and gently caresses down your spine, just above your tail.
The gesture breaks you, tears streaming like waterfalls, your body crumbling to the ground like poorly stacked stones as So'lek follows, not allowing you to hit the ground at all. He cradles you in his arms, your body on his lap and his hands gentle on your skin, tracing over your stripes, not your scars because he knows you hate when people pay attention to the raised marks. Harsh sobs wrench their way out of your chest, heavy and erratic and painful. You feel like you can hardly breathe. Every ounce of pain and trauma seems to rattle its way out of you now. Everything you'd kept bottled up for so long, all the fear and the weight of your nightmares. It's all coming out now. So'lek feels his heart shatter.
“Ma Tamtey.. Nga yawne.. You are safe. I have you.” He speaks so softly, so tender with you even when you know you've been so unkind, even if it is unintentional. Your wails ring out through the clearing, carrying with them the pain that you've endured and the fear in your heart. You turn in So'lek's arms, burying your face against his neck as you sob out apology after apology. He simply shushes you gently, aware of all that you've been through. Your tail gently entwines itself with his, trembling faintly like you fear rejection, but So'lek would never. His tail even tightens around yours before looping around your waist, the soft tuft of hair brushing over your belly gently. For once, you don't hiss. You welcome the touch.
At this, the guilt strikes deep, cutting like the sharpest of blades as you realise what you've been doing. Depriving your mate and the father of your child from feeling your baby grow. Your vision is blurred over by tears but your hand reaches for his, trembling far harder than he has ever seen before. You gently take his hand, bring it closer and place it right over the swell where your baby resides.
“I- I'm sorry, yawntu.. I-” The words struggle to come out as your chest stutters in a fight to breathe normally. You can feel the way So'lek's tail shudders around your own in response to feeling your belly, the small life growing within, almost fluttering beneath your skin as it rolls around in there, only recently starting to move. He leans in to press soft kisses to your head, purring softly as his nose brushes down your ear and the side of your face. You whisper another apology, and he simply shakes his head in response, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin of your tummy.
“Speak to me, sevin. Tell me your fears. I wish to help you carry them,” he murmurs into your hair. “I can take no more of this. Seeing you so fearful.. I will not.”
Your head lifts and you finally lock eyes with So'lek, his expression physically crumpling at the sight of your tear streaked, slightly purple cheeks. He releases his hold on your belly, stroking his thumb under your eyes to swipe away your tears whilst nodding to encourage you.
“I- My nightmares.. Have all been of the same thing, So'lek. Losing our child to them. Our baby,” your voice wavers, but So'lek remains patient, quiet, and wholly empathetic. He understands loss better than anyone. “Our baby suffering the way I did, the way Ri'nela and Nor and Teylan an- And Aha'ri..” Your voice breaks saying the name of your poor, dear sister. “I will not let it happen.”
He sighs, nodding slowly as understanding washes over him. He hates that he was right in his assumptions. His arms tighten just slightly around your body, loose enough for you to bolt if you feel the need to do so, but tight enough to offer you the feeling of safety that you so desperately need as you continue to speak.
“And then I remember Mokasa, how he did what he did to save his own people but cost me mine. The pain of what he did will never be unwritten or forgotten. So now I-”
“You do not know who to trust,” So'lek interrupts, his tone calm and full of understanding as always.
You shake your head gently, more tears cascading across your skin, your heart burning with shame. You hear So'lek sigh and bow your head on instinct, hiding your face from him as the shame burns hotter, scared for the reaction he'll have. He must be furious with you for it, for distrusting everyone around you, even him! Your vision blurs with tears once again, tail wriggling anxiously where it is still wrapped around So'lek's. You're surprised he hasn't pulled away. But your anxiety is clouding everything you know. So'lek is not an angry man, not unless he has to be. The last time you saw him angry was when you were both captured by Bukowski and the Ash. Eventually you notice that he seems to get closer, cradling you close in his arms and pushing your head to lean against his chest, his heart beating steadily, almost calmly. A far cry from what you feared. Your eyes fall closed as you listen to the comforting sound of his heart and voice, your tears staining his skin.
“I understand you, yawntu. Loss is a heavy burden. One we know well. Our baby will not know loss like we have. They will not know the pain. I will not allow it. Our little family is safe.” His understanding is a boon for your soul, soothing some of those fears even just a little bit.
A little bit helps. But So'lek is determined to comfort you, continuing to speak.
“I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe. And our friends are good people. The humans here have no love for the RDA, and the clans have fought at our side to stop them as well. They will not allow harm to come to you or I and most definitely not our child. No more children will be taken by them. The people would fight to the death to stop them. You know this.”
Your body sinks into So'lek's embrace, exhausted from your emotions, a soft purr of appreciation rumbling hoarsely out of you, a sound that prompts So'lek to kiss your head again whilst trilling a purr in response. His hand gently drifts over your belly again, testing the waters, and this time, you don't even flinch, allowing him to trace his fingers over the stripes on your growing tummy.
“Thank you, ma So'lek..” You whisper, too exhausted to speak any louder. He hums in response, placing yet another kiss on your forehead this time. Your own hand slowly drifts to rest over the back of his, holding it over your growing womb.
“You are most welcome, yawne. If your fears grow again, tell me. I will help. If you need help, I will be here. I will carry them with you as long as we both live. Do not carry them alone. I will reassure you whenever you need it. For now, enjoy this time before our child enters the world,” he murmers, voice soft and warm as always, looking down at your face, all purple cheeked and puffy eyed from crying but still so beautiful.
“And you do not have to let anyone touch you if you do not want. That is your choice. But you cannot keep hissing at people, hm? Gave Priyah quite a fright.” His tone is lighter on that last part but you groan softly, embarrassed and overwhelmingly guilt ridden over how badly you scared the poor woman. You eventually muster a short laugh when you dwell on your behaviour, hissing at everyone who looks your way. You shake your head slightly, looking up at your mate, offering a very half-hearted but playful hiss.
“No promises. But, yes, I will apologise to Priyah.” You already have a gift planned to apologise to the poor girl. Silence falls between the two of you as your teary sniffling calms into regular little breaths, soothed by the touch of your mate and the sound of his heartbeat. The fear is still there, and part of you knows it always will be, but having So'lek by your side makes things just that bit easier. All you need is him, to be in his arms, to feel his warmth, hear his heart.
The two of you continue sitting there until Eclipse, watching the vast land beneath the cliff become vibrant with glowing life. Life that your child will know plenty of. They will not know the metal world of the Sky People. Not like you did. And as the forest glows, teeming with the energy of Eywa's children, your own decides to make itself known, a tiny hand pressing up into So'lek's palm. He looks at you in awe as he huffs a laugh of disbelief before leaning down carefully to press his lips to the soft skin of your tummy, ghosting over that tiny hand.
"Hello, 'itetsyìp, I am your sempu and I love you very very much already. You will always be loved by your sa'nu and I."
A laugh bubbles out of you, the whispered words tickling your skin before it dawns on you what So'lek just said. 'Little daughter.'
"You think it is a girl?" You ask quietly, threading your fingers between So'lek's braids to rub at his scalp. He hums softly, content with your touch and with the feeling of his child under his hand.
"I hope. Raising a little girl as phenomonal as you would be an honour, yawntu." The words bring more tears to your eyes, but at least they're not of sadness this time.
"The next one can be a little boy like you, hm?" So'lek's eyes meet yours at that, full of amusement that you're already planning for the second child when your first is still within your womb.
"Let us have this one first, yawne, you may change your mind" he says with eyes full of mirth, taking your hand in his to press a kiss to your palm. "But I will give you as many children as you wish." Your cheeks flush purple at the suggestive comment, smacking his arm playfully before shifting out of his grasp and moving to lie down on the soft mosses, not having to beckon So'lek to follow because your tails are still linked and he hardly wants to be apart from you right now. Neither do you want to be apart from him honestly. He lets you settle first before moving to lay his head against your belly, resuming his previous task of talking to your unborn infant.
You watch as So'lek spends time with your little one, his head now carefully pressed against you as he whispers softly to your tummy, like he's sharing secrets with the little one, and you just know that, regardless of whether you have a boy or a girl, that baby will have So'lek wrapped around their tiny fingers.
summary: Wukula is as sadistic as any mangkwan. But he has no limits when it comes to revenge. With So'lek's precious Sarentu in his grasp, he has no restraint to what he will do to achieve what he is owed, and So'lek will stop at nothing to make sure you are safe.
contents: fem!sarentu reader x so'lek, from the ashes spoilers, wukula, forced tsaheylu, knifes, blood, violence, weird power dynamics from wukula coz duh, angst, fluff, trauma, nightmares,
note: i kinda went crazy lol, i hope you guys like it. i really liked writing this dynamic coz like lowkey...the ash people coulda been crazier. but this is smthn a lil different for me so hopefully you all enjoy yay!
There wasn’t a moment when his thoughts were not centered on you.
Every time he closed his eyes he was back in TAP.
So’lek’s head rings, vision doubling as debris crashes around him. Smoke claws through his lungs, every shallow breath burning. He feels himself slipping, knees stinging as the Mangkwan push him further into the ground.
It all happens so fast. He lunges forward, lungs burning with every step. His hand reaching for yours.
And for a split second your hand is in his.
Then it isn’t.
The sensation of his fingers slipping off yours, catching onto a broken bead of your songcord. Nails scraping uselessly over you.
“No-!”
He felt himself get ripped away from you, his body being thrown as if it was a toy. Foreign hands wrap around his, squeezing until his bones ache.
The window gives way.
Glass shatters around him, shards scratching over his skin as gravity tears him away from you. Above him, your scream follows, hollow and weak as if it has been ripped out of you.
He screams your name as he plummets.
The impact slams the air out of his lungs, the facility creaking as his body smashed into the floor, igniting pain through his body. His body tries to move but it’s hopeless, he’s unable to breathe, unable to think.
Your screams haunt his drifting mind until the darkness swallows him.
When awareness creeps back into his aching body, it’s painstakingly slow. His shaking on his hands and knees, coughing violently as smoke and dust clogged his lungs. TAP groans around him, metal screaming, alarms blaring, sparks flickering around him.
“Please.” He gasps into his comms, clawing towards the small beam of light filtering through the rubble. “Please- Answer me!”
Palms scrape against the metal floors, blood sticking to the floor. “Hello?” he calls your name nothing yet there’s but static responding. “Please- Can you hear me?”
His fists slam into the ground, still clambering to the light as he pleaded into the comms. But there was nothing.
Only silence.
Silence never lasts long.
So’lek stands inside another control room. Surrounded by useless human machinery, bleak gray desks bolted to the floor, a multitude of panels cluttered with unfamiliar switches and glowing buttons. Fans chur overhead, blades spinning too fast, rattling and cutting through the thick air. Warning alarms scream through the small screens adorning the walls, red symbols flashing.
Nothing about it matters. He followed another useless lead, ending up empty handed, not even a hint about where the RDA had abducted you.
So’lek’s attention is dragged to the largest screen on the far wall. Dark, glossy and reflective enough he can see himself in it. His bloody, battered body shaking, ears pinned tight to his head, chest heaving.
Then it glitches.
Black and white lines flash onto the screen. Static cutting through the speakers. He barely had enough time to register it all before a loud scream echoes through the room.
It’s deafening and guttural. As if it had been ripped raw from a throat that has already screamed too much.
So’lek flinches, his tail snapped rigidly behind him. His breath stutters in his chest.
The image stabilizes.
You are on your knees. Hands bound behind you so tightly your shoulders are wrenched back painfully, muscles trembling with strain. Your head hangs forward, your chin close to your chest, eyes wet and unfocused.
Your body swaying, slipping in and out of consciousness. Bright purple marks stain your skin. Bruises in the shape of fingers marked onto your body. Thin straight lines brand your arms and legs. Glistening under the harsh white light. Cuts and scratches measured and chosen.
So’lek felt his heart stop beating, his stomach drop.
A shadow moves behind you.
Wukula’s broad form fills the screen. His movement is slow and controlled, almost relaxed. Blood darkens his teeth as he smiles, eyes slight with cruelty and vengeance.
“Wave, Sarentu.” He taunts, prodding at your weak body. “He is watching.”
“She tried so hard.” He says gently, eyes locking onto the camera, the fondness in his tone making So’lek’s stomach curdle. “Did you know that?”
“She tries not to make noise.” He continues. “Thinks if she stays quiet, this will end faster.”
Wukula’s hand comes down to grip onto your jaw. You whimper weakly as he forces your face towards the camera. “But I like it when she screams.”
So’lek’s blood runs cold, letting out a pained hiss.
His eyes meet yours. He can see the terror in your eyes, blood and ash smeared over your face, lashes clumped together from your tears.
“Look at her” Wukula croons. “You picked a pretty little thing.”
His head dips down into the curve of your neck, inhaling slowly. A satisfied growl escaping his mouth. “She looks even prettier when she cries.”
A loud sob tears from within you as Wukula twists your head back, his grip threateningly tight on your kuru.
“I told her you would watch,” he murmurs his voice a low growl. “That you would hear every pathetic sound she made.”
You struggle against his grip. The movement is futile.
Wukula retaliates instantly, yanking back your kuru hard enough to force another scream from your throat.
“She would make a good offering to Varang.” He jeers, eyes flicking to the camera. An evil smile stretches across his scarred face. “But this.”
A possessive hand settles over your waist, one finger tracing the fibers of your loincloth.
“This is much more enjoyable.”
A gut-wrenching scream echoes through the control room.
The scream goes black.
The silence is worse.
So’lek is left staring at his own reflection. Shaking violently, eyes blown wide, your broken image burned into his mind. A blood thirsty haze falls over him, the gold in his eyes dims, swallowed by something darker, hungrier.
He will not fail you again.
So’lek doesn’t think. He cannot think.
The moment the static in the speaker comes to a complete silence his body surges forward as if it had a mind of its own. Every muscle screams, every footstep pounding against the metal floor. He doesn’t dare to slow down.
He jumps over the platforms of the base. Sharp metal edges scrape against his arms. But the pain is irrelevant. Nothing matters but you.
He roars into the metal surroundings, his voice raw and shaking. Tail whipping behind him as he pivots through the winding hallway.
So’lek had lost any care for stealth. Any human that dared to get in his way now would meet their fate quickly.
He bursts through a maintenance vent, the setting sun casting a dim haze over the horizon. His voice calls out for Iley, soaring into the air quickly. “Quick Iley!” He yells out to him, a shaky hand steading itself on his neck.
The pull within his chest is unrelenting, every gust of wind a hammering reminder of how far he was from you.
Wukula has you. Wukula dared to touch you.
The realization dawned on him. If he was just a heartbeat too slow. He could lose you.
The wind was harsh, Iley pushing through the wind with loud screeches. The air brushes against his skin, the cool air doing nothing to simmer the burning fury within him.
Finally, the faint outline of Hometree looms in the horizon.
Scorched, blackened and stubbornly alive.
A single thought consumed him.
You.
With a guttural roar, So’lek leaps off Iley landing on a smoldering branch of Hometree. He rushes inside vaulting and sprinting through the onslaught of soldiers that stood in his way.
Every instinct screamed for you. He didn’t waste time fighting his way to you. He simply ran.
Every bit of his strength would be reserved for the death of Wukula.
When So’lek reached the top of home tree it was nothing like he had recognized it. Steel had replaced bark. Scorched embers scattered across the floor. Human instruments jut from the burning trunk like parasites. Cables and wire burrows into the sacred wood. What was once vibrant, breathing with life had been stripped bare and weaponized.
A landing pad.
The wind howled through the dying branches, shrill and mournful. As if the tree itself was grieving.
Suspended against a vertical steel pole at the back of the landing pad.
Your wrists are bound high above your head, shoulders stretched taut, forcing you upright. Your toes barely brush the cool metal beneath you. Your head hangs forward lolling weakly to one side, hair undone, veiling half of your face.
Your breathing is shallow. Uneven.
But present.
A tiny part of him is relieved. That at least he hasn’t lost you yet.
You’re alive.
Then the wind shifts. Clouds swallow what little sunlight remains, plunging the clearing into looming darkness.
So’lek sees the shadow first.
Then Wukula steps forward, merging from the darkness. His smile catching the last thread of light, sharp and sickly pleased. His blade is already tight against your throat.
“Ah.” He says conversationally. “You made it.”
So’lek moves before his thoughts can catch up. His arrow aimed between Wukula’s eyes.
“Take your hands off-!” His voice booms, echoing against the steel structures.
Wukula lets out a laugh. It’s deep. Genuine. Amused.
“Are your arrows faster than my blade…Dog tag warrior?” His words sharp, almost mocking.
The knife presses just enough to break skin. A thin line of red wells at your throat.
Your breath catches. Your body tenses, weak and trembling.
So’lek is frozen.
He knows if even a finger tightened too much on the string-. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen.
“You hesitate.” Wukula observes with satisfaction. “Good. That means you understand.”
Wukula’s hand slides up your form, fingers lingering too long. As if he relished in touching what wasn’t his. Then his hand forcefully grips the base of your kuru tilting your head further up, a yelp of pain ripping out of your throat.
Your head tilts back under his control, exposing your throat to the darkening sky. Your eyes stare upwards, unfocused searching for something beyond the cloudy sky.
You don’t fight. You can’t.
All you could do was stare at the dark sky above you and silently pray to the Great Mother. Desperately plead that your life is not taken from hands covered in ash.
Yet there was a small part of you that wondered if returning to the Her would finally mean peace.
“Dog tag warrior.” Wukula spoke with venom, spitting the words onto the ground. “I didn’t realize you were so gullible.”
So’lek stuttered for a moment. His brows furrowing, the tension on his bow releasing.
Panic set in as he looked beside him.
A mechanical whine. A metallic snap.
Four darts explode outward from the shadows, fired from the arm of a concealed AMP suit.
They strike in each of So’lek’s limbs with brutal precision.
Cords wrap around So’lek’s limbs, coiling tight before he can pivot away.
Then the voltage hits, his body locking.
A strangled scream tears from his throat as the electricity surges through his body. Muscles seize violently, his bow dropping out of his grip. Body crashing to the floor as his knees buckle.
So’lek groans as he tries to move, every twitch sends volts of ache through him. Even his hands are not strong enough to stop him from falling, his face smashing against the metal. He felt his face ache, blood beginning to drip from his nose.
You scream his name.
But Wukula silences you instantly, his blade biting deeper into your skin.
“Be- Be still!” So’lek cries out to you, his face morphing in agony as he looks up to you.
“Careful.” Wukula murmurs near your ear, biting the tip of your earlobe. “You’ll distract him.”
So’lek’s teeth grit, his jaw trembles. He tries to move, rip the cables free but more volts shock through him, forcing him flat against the floor. Helpless and pinned.
Forced to watch.
Wukula cuts the ropes that kept you bound to the pole, pushing you forward on your knees. Instinctively, your hands flew out to try and catch yourself, but Wukula already had them in his grasp. Your shoulders pulling tight as you fell, the familiar ropes wrapping around your wrists once again.
Wukula stood in front of you, watching you bound and kneeling in front of him with a sick grin. His loincloth so close it brushes across your face. “She looks pretty when she kneels doesn’t she So’lek?” He grips your kuru yanking you closer to him.
So’lek let out a hiss, fighting through the electricity, fingers digging uselessly against the metal. “Don’t touch her!”
Wukula scoffs. “I already am.” He sneers, pulling you closer to his pelvis, forcing you to submit to his will. His hands trace the outlines of your jaw, forcing your gaze away from So’lek.
“Our fight is not with her!” So’lek yells, desperately trying break free. Yet every movement forced him into submission.
“You have scarred me.” Wukula points his knife towards So’lek, then flicks it back to you. “So, I will scar her.”
Wukula crouches beside you, his grip on your kuru still tight enough it restricts movement. His voice lowers into something intimate and cruel. “Stay very still,” he whispers. “He needs to see this clearly.”
He stands up again, his full form dwarfing you as knelt below him. He tugs on the end of your kuru, making you stumble over your knees.
Wukula doesn’t rush. Every move he makes is calculated and thought out. As if he had planned this moment many moons ago.
He keeps his grip tangled in your kuru, twisting once around his wrist like a leash.
You let out the softest whimper, lips trembling.
So’lek sees it, his heart fracturing.
“Don’t you see?” He calls lazily, as if he is annoyed that his devilish plan is being interrupted. “She reacts to me. She responds to me. She belongs to me. Even her body understands that her life is in my hands.”
“Release her!” So’lek roars, dragging his forearm across the steel beneath him. His skin tearing against the sharp cables.
The electricity surges again, slamming him flat against the floor. His muscles convulse violently; breath knocked from his lungs.
“You are exhausting.” Wukula sighs, turning his attention away from So’lek. “This is who you begged to come save you?” He tilts his head, mock sympathy softening his tone. “Or did you pray to the Great Mother?”
You shake your head, fighting tears from spilling. Wukula just laughs. “She will not come.”
He raises his voice so So’lek could hear every word.
“She did not come when we burnt this tree.”
“She did not come when we bombed your rookery.”
“And she will not come for you.”
So’lek thrashes against the metal. Another surge of electricity forcing its way into his veins. His scream rips through the landing pad, animalistic and raw.
You watch how Wukula’s mouth twitches into a smile.
Then he slides his kuru forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Then he pauses. “Have you mated before your weak goddess yet?” He sneers eyes flicking between the struggling couple.
You shake your head, a sinking feeling of doom bubbling in your stomach.
“No? Well…this shall be fun.”
Then glowing tendrils swallow yours.
“No!” So’lek chokes out, a terror unlike anything he had felt before flooding his system.
Wukula groans loudly, a hearty laugh ripping from his chest.
Your breath stutters, pupils dilate as the sensation drowns you. It wasn’t warmth or love. But a cold dark intrusion that felt foreign within you. Your muscles seize, you shake as you try to break free. But Wukula looms over you, his eyes glowing in satisfaction.
He could feel every bit of fight within you leaving, desperately clawing onto your mind as he forcefully weaved through it.
He inhales sharply, tilting his head down towards. “Such a pretty paskalin.”
“Stop!” So’lek screams, his voice cracking, something primitive tearing from his chest.
Wukula lets out a loud hiss, his fangs reflecting against the floodlights. As Wukula grew angrier, you felt his pain through the bond.
You collapsed in agony; your nerves were no longer yours. Nor was your mind or your body. It was all in his control. You let out a scream loud enough that your throat almost gave out, tears streaming down your face.
Wukula crouched down now, seeing your weak body slowly begin to fade in and out of consciousness. A sick grin growing across his face. “I thought she could handle a little more than that.” He laughed, picking you up and ripping your kuru from his.
So’lek deep inside prayed you would react, even if it was a scream of agony. It meant you were alive. But your body never reacts. All he heard was the thump of contact you made with the metal floor.
Your chest sinks, but it doesn’t rise.
And something primal wakes within him.
The world around him goes silent.
The electricity still courses through him but he no longer feels it. The pain fractures away revealing something larger.
His fingers wrap around the first dark embedded in his thigh. With a groan he rips it out. Flesh tears around the wound, blood spraying across the steel, yet he doesn’t flinch.
The AMP suit hesitates, So’lek catches it within a second.
He surges forward on instinct alone. He grabs the live wire still sparking against his ribs and tears it out. Then he yanks it towards him, the solider tugged to the ground, the AMP suit backfiring, sparks explode from the energy packs on its back. Metal shrieking at the suit bursts into a mountain of flames.
Wukula turns too late.
So’lek was already moving. Not with grace or precision.
With wrath.
So’lek tackles Wukula before he is fully alert. Both slamming across the metal pad. Wukula’s knife slides away into the shadows
Wukula snarls, fangs bared. “You will give me what I am owed!”
So’lek answers with his fists.
Bones crack, Wukula’s head snapping sideways.
Wukula’s hands fly to So’lek’s throat, forcing him to the ground as he recovers. Scampering away to grab his blade. The time gives So’lek to find his footing, snarling as he sees Wukula return with his weapon.
Wukula swipes his blade near So’leks face, but he ducks with haste, swifty turning to jut the Mangkwan powerfully in the back.
Wukula coughs before he pivots, his blade cutting through the Dog tag warriors back. He cries out, knees crashing to the floor, pain spreading through his body. Sticky red liquid beginning to drip down his blue skin.
Wukula sees the moment to strike, lifting his blade high in the air. Its rigid edges gleam against the burning flames around him. Then his blade lowers, aiming towards So’lek’s shoulder, but his arm is caught before any wound is made.
So’lek lets out a loud snarl, twisting his entire form as he bends the raiders arm. Forcing him to let go of his sacred blade.
So’lek’s balls his fist, meeting Wukula’s face with the utmost force. Sending him crashing to the floor below him, his knife clattering beside him. But So’lek doesn’t take a moment of rest. He can’t rest.
Not while he knows you lay limp and unconscious just behind him. Because he wasn’t fast enough to retrieve you from Wukula’s sick games.
So’lek’s hand wraps around the Warband’s neck, tight enough that he felt a heartbeat pump beneath his fingers. Another grabs the rigid blade that laid next to him.
His hands rise, chest heaving. So’lek looks into the eyes of the man that had brutally tortured you.
But he doesn’t see Wukula.
He sees you.
He sees your fear, your terror, your silent pleas and weak cries.
Then the blade pierced his flesh, plunging into Wukula’s chest. Stealing away his last breath.
So’lek watches as his pupils widen, his body falling limp below him. Life drain out of his chest, seeping onto So’lek’s hands.
A roar rips out of him. It echoes across the landing pad, bouncing off the metal contraptions. The roar tears out of him until there is nothing left but a lingering burn in his throat
Then there is silence.
No more shouting. No more metal shrieking. No more Wukula.
His hands begin to shake, he glances down and all he can see are his fingers buried in Wukula’s chest. Blood coats his hands, warm and slick, dripping down his wrists and along his forearms.
He releases the blade, and Wukula’s body slumps fully beneath him.
He should feel relief. He should feel victory.
But he can’t.
Not when you are still unmoving. Stuck in the position Wukula had thrown you into, wrists still bound together.
His head snaps toward you and for a moment he is worried he cannot stand. Knees buckling below him. The adrenaline that had carried his movements had disappeared. Leaving behind something hollow and sick.
He moves anyway, feet stumbling with every step.
Each movement he makes feels wrong, feels…heavy. As if the air around him had thickened.
As he moves closer to you, his heart begins to pound.
Your chest is too still, your skin is too pale, your body is too weak.
He drops to his knees beside you, the impact so hard bruises appear in an instant.
A wail racks out of his chest, unable to be restrained. Chest heaving with sorrowful cries as he gathers your limp body into his arms.
Your head lolls back against his forearm, hair falling away from your face.
He is quick to rip the ropes from your wrists, fingers tracing the bright purple marks that have been indented into your skin.
He brings you closer to his chest, hands shaking as he cradles you.
Your lips are parted, but there was no breath.
“No, no, no-” His voice fractures completely, his grip on you becoming tighter. He presses his ear to your chest.
Silence.
His body begins to tremble violently.
“I was here,” he coughs out, choking on his own tears. “I came. I came for you.” He presses his forehead to yours, his tears dropping onto your cheek. “I would never leave you. I was always going to come for you.”
He shuts his eyes tight, another sob taking control of his body. Lips tremble as his cries wobble. “You cannot leave me,” he whimpers.
It wasn’t a command or an order.
But a plea.
His fingers fumble brushing against your kuru, he brushed it gently, another sob crashing over him as his mind flashed back to what had been done to you. “You were so strong my love.”
His shoulders shake, eyes flicking back up to your shut ones.
Then he breaks.
He folds over you, curling his body around yours, trying to shield you from something that had already happened. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers into your hair, his blood soaked hands staining your cheeks. “I should have been faster- I shouldn’t have hesitated. I’m so sorry-.”
His voice collapses into another wail, his body rocking side to side. One hand rested against your head cradling you into his body, the other wrapped around your waist.
Your hands lay limp against the floor, unmoving and lifeless.
Hometree was silent, the only sound was So’lek’s cries. Defeated and broken.
Then a small sound breaks it.
So small So’lek is sure he imagined it. That his mind was trying convince himself that this was all fake.
A hitch of breath, a gasp of air.
Your chest jerks sharply beneath his grip. So’lek freezes, he couldn’t look down. What if he had imagined it all. What if he looks down and still sees you there lifeless in his grip.
But what if when he looks down, you are really there.
He pulls back just enough to look at you. He feels your fingers twitch weakly against his chest.
Another breath, ragged and sharp drags into your lungs.
“Please…” he whispers again.
Your lashes flutter. Your brows furrow faintly. “So’lek...?” You whisper faintly, your voice barely there.
He nods, a broken sound escaping his throat, one that is half laugh half sob.
He cups your face instantly. His hands careful gripping onto your cheeks. “I am here,” he breathes, forehead pressing against yours. “I am here.”
Relief hits him like another surge of electricity, but this time it does not ache. It overwhelms. He gathers you tighter in his embrace, his body still shaking. “I thought I lost you…”
“You came.” You cried a weak hand shakily gripping onto his.
“Of course I did.” He says quickly. “I will always come for you.”
The night is cool inside So’lek’s home. Bioluminescent vines light up the rocky walls, the soft rush of the waterfall trickles into a soothing harmony.
You lie curled against his chest, the hammock enclosing around the both of you.
He had barely slept since that night. Every time your breathing shifts his body would jolt awake, every time you move, his arm would tighten around you. Every moment his eyes fluttered open he looked down making sure you were still safe in his arms again.
Tonight was like any other night. So’lek barely asleep, his body on edge unable to let him succumb to rest.
Your fingers twitched against his chest. Then your breathing changed, becoming shallow and quick. Too quick.
“No-” you whisper, barely audible. Your lips beginning to tremble, eyes still screwed shut.
But So’lek’s snap wide open.
Stay still a voice echoes in your mind. Your body jerks violently, hands shoving against So’lek’s chest. “Get away!” you gasp, eyes still shut.
So’lek’s grip on you immediately retracts. Sitting up, letting the weight of his body no longer rest against you. “I am not touching you.” He whispers firmly, raising his hands in the air. “You are safe, you are home.” He whispers, his voice low and steady.
Your eyes fly open. And for a split second you don’t recognize him. You suddenly scramble backwards out of the hammock, feet finding the rocky floor below you.
Your breathing is erratic, hands clutching around your kuru, protecting it from a threat that is no longer there.
So’lek’s heart sinks when he sees you, his chest tightening. “Mawey…you are safe.”
“He is inside-” you sob out, choking on your words. “I- I can feel him.”
“He is dead. He is not here.” He says voice firm but soft. “He will never hurt you again.”
Your head shakes violently, hands wrapping around your body. “But I felt- I felt him.”
So’lek stays sitting on the hammock, his eyes gentle and calm.
“Look at me.”
You hesitate, taking in a short breath in. Then your eyes lift.
His gaze is steady and present. “Tell me what you see.”
You blink, a tear dropping onto your cheek. “You.”
He smiles. “Only me?”
Your breath trembles as you nod. “Only you.”
“Breathe slowly yawne.” He takes in a large breath, holding it for a moment before releasing the air.
You watch his chest rise and fall, beginning to mimic him.
So’lek shuffles his legs on the floor, bringing the hammock closer to you. He is slow, giving you space if you need to recoil.
When you don’t move away, he opens a hand to you. “Come my love.” It wasn’t an order, but an invitation.
You slowly move towards him, pulling your hand away from the grip you had on your body to rest in his palm. His touch was soft and warm.
Your shoulders drop, tension seeping out of your system. So’lek drags you closer now, enough that you can rest in his lap. Legs resting on one side of him, your head resting against his shoulder.
For a while nothing was said between you. Both sitting in gentle silence as his fingers caressed the small of your back, slowly bringing you back into the present.
“I hate that he touched me first,” you whisper. Your confession is raw, taking a weight off your chest.
So’lek’s jaw tightens, fighting the fire of rage that still burned within him. But his voice remained soft. “He did not take what is ours.”
“I do not want…” you swallow a whimper. “I do not want him to be my only experience. I want...what it was supposed to be.” Your eyes flick to your kuru, and then to his.
His hand stills. “I will give you what ever you ask for.” He says gently. “But I do not want you to think that you owe me anything.”
“I know.” You say softly. “But I want you.”
Silence fills the space as So’lek’s hands move to grab his kuru. He doesn’t rush it towards you, he lets you take control.
You reach for his kuru with shaking hands, slowly connecting it to yours.
For a moment, fear builds inside of you. Worried that you may once again feel the agony that was forced upon you. But when the tendrils met, your breath caught in your throat.
Because this time there was no intrusion, no pain or force. It was a warm fuzzy feeling that consumed you. Slow and gentle.
You feel So’lek, his thoughts, his feelings and he still does not flood your sensations. You feel him waiting for you, letting you set the pace.
Through the bond you hear him. Softer than ever before, calm and peace flow through your body.
There are moments where So’lek feels your growing fear, can sense your growing anxieties. But he answers it with calm…and your doubt flickers.
“I am here.” He whispers. Your bond did not make you his nor did it make him yours.
You became one.
Your forehead presses against his, tears sliding down your cheeks, but your lips curve into a faint smile. “This feels different.”
“It is different.” He answers.
But of course, it’s different. Because this was chosen.
So’lek pulls you in closer, fingers intertwining with yours. He watches your eyes flick up to him. You study him in the dim light.
“You almost lost me.” You whisper. You feel his sorrow, his fear through the bond.
His jaw tightens, a hand cupping your cheek. “I would have torn the world apart to find you again.”
notes: okay yayyyy, thankyou for reading it all i really hope you all liked it. please tell me what you thought, how you felt I wanna hear and read it ALLL ily guys sm i hope this was good and not totally cringey
okay byeee (reblogs and comments are always appreciated and i will give u a big fat kiss.)
"I feel sad." You tell Sylus on a rainy afternoon, curled up in one of the armchairs in the living room. Sylus has been polishing his guns, the scent of gun oil strong but familiar—almost comforting.
"Hmm?" Sylus hums, questioning, as he runs the rag down a gun's barrel. "You feel sad? Why is that, sweetie?"
You shake your head, watching the rain splatter its drops against the window. "I don't know. I can't really describe it." You pause for a second, thinking it through. "There’s no reason to the sadness. I just feel...sad."
Sylus nods in understanding, abandoning his halfway polished gun to come to you. You don't react when he lifts you into his arms and drops into your seat, perching you on his lap. It's instantaneous how you melt into his warmth, your head fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck. His hands carve a soothing path up and down your back, the touch easing away some of your indecipherable worries. Taking them far away like the tide pulling grains of sand into the vast ocean.
"It's okay to feel just sad," Sylus murmurs. "Sometimes emotions don't have explanations and it isn't necessary to understand them always. But if they're too much to bear on your own then you know I'll always be here to shoulder any of the pain or discomfort."
Tears well up in your eyes, the prickling sting causing you to close them tightly. You burrow yourself deeper into Sylus' safe embrace, swallowing around a thick sob.
"This sucks." You say quietly and Sylus' arms squeeze you tightly, as if trying to lift some of that heaviness away.
"I know, sweetheart," Sylus says, just as quiet. "But I'm always here. You never have to go through any of this alone."
He's on his way home from work, making a brief stop at the grocery store. He recalls your absentminded request this morning, your eyes and head still filled with sleep.
"Wan cookies..." you had grumbled into his back and Sylus prides himself on being attentive.
Especially when it pertains to you.
He's walking through the aisle with your favourite brand of cookies and passes by two young women. He doesn't notice how their gazes turn lustful and trail after him but does catch a word that floats its way over.
DILF.
The word rolls its way around Sylus' mind as he pays for the cookies—and a few more of your favourite snacks—and doesn't leave him alone even on his drive home. He considers searching it up online but gets distracted the moment you're in his sights.
All thoughts of DILF fly out the window when your lips capture his and he promptly melts.
It doesn't a comeback until it's evening and dinner has been eating. He's busy washing the dishes while you dry them, innocent chatter flowing between you two. You ask him about work and he tells you it went fine as always, always leaving out the too bloody parts. He asks you the same and listens, intrigued, as you complain about a co-worker.
You're halfway through telling him about what Nicole said when the word pops into his mind.
Bright and clear as day.
DILF.
"Sweetie," Sylus says. "Sorry for interrupting you but there's been something on my mind."
You blink. "Oh? What's wrong?" You ask then give him a once over. "Are you hurt? Should I get the first aid kit?"
"No, I'm fine," he assures you with a tender smile. "I just heard something today when I was at the grocery store. Heard it when I passed these young women and they said something."
"That doesn't surprise me," you say, eyeing him teasingly. "I mean, have you seen yourself? You're a prime DILF, honey."
Sylus halts in rinsing his current dish.
"It's that word," he says, brows furrowed. "The DILF word. They said the exact same thing when I walked past but I couldn't make heads or tails of it." He looks at you, curious. "What does it mean?"
You stare at him, wide-eyed.
You stare at him for a good minute or so.
Then you're snorting loudly, eyes closing as you set down the tea towel you were using to dry the dishes. Your lips are pursed together tightly, the corners quivering with withheld laughter. You chance a look at Sylus before shaking your head and taking off to the living room.
Sylus stares at where you once were, puzzled beyond belief.
He turns off the tap to follow you.
"Sweetie?" He calls out, only to find you on the couch and laughing into a throw cushion. "Sweetie? What's so funny?"
You lift up a hand, signalling him to give you a moment, before looking at him. Your eyes are watery from laughing too much and your mouth is spread into a wide smile.
"Sy, baby," you say around shaky breaths. "My love, DILF isn't a word. It's an acronym."
"...Okay?" Sylus says, a brow raised. "I still don't know what it means. And it seems my loving wife is having too much fun keeping it from me."
"It's so hilarious," you admit, letting out a few more pearls of laughter. "But I'll tell you because I love you and you need to know this for future reference."
"...I love you too and sure."
"Okay," you say, taking a deep breath around still bubbling laughter. "Baby, DILF means dad I'd like to fuck."
Sylus' eyes widen.
You stare at him, biting your bottom lip hard.
There's a long draw of silence.
Then, as innocently as a 6'4" broad man capable of murder can, Sylus says:
"But I'm not a dad."
Your screaming laughter sounds throughout the neighbourhood.
🐦⬛ okok what abouuttt vampire sylus easily getting bored and on occasion taking lower class servants that won't be missed as 'pets'. 🧛♂️
(i still have not read his myth this is disconnected from canon and could be wildly out of character)
he keeps them around and leaves them to do as they please, not forcing them to stay and not batting an eye when they escape from his manor with several suspicious treasure-like lumps under their jackets. he figures it's compensation for essentially being kidnapped and a decent sum for them to start a new life with.
he always keeps his kitchen fully stocked and doesn't stop his 'pets' from roaming around; in his many years of life, he's accumulated more possessions and wealth than he knows what to do with. his material wealth has long become boring, he won't miss a few things going missing.
the humans tend not to be very well-behaved, but he's pleasantly surprised when he finds one who is and willingly stays in his manor: you. he usually only checks on his humans every once in a while, but you intrigue him. you don't seem bothered at being confined in his manor, content to read the many books in his library or sketch the little trinkets he's collected over the years.
you're a bit scared of him at first, of course, so he keeps his distance until you get used to his presence over the course of a few weeks. until one day, you shyly smile and wave at him as he passes by in the hall, catching him off guard. he waves in response, just barely keeping himself from fumbling the movement with flushed cheeks.
he slowly starts making a habit of checking in on you, which over time leads to the two of you gravitating towards each other, spending time together, and developing a close friendship. he mentors you on the topics he's experienced in, and you teach him about the meanings behind different human phrases and patterns of behavior. he enjoys seeing the new meaning you find in his possessions that he has long since grown uninterested in.
one night, the two of you are idly chatting late at night by the fireplace, relaxed and content to just be in each other's company. he's reading a book when he feels a light weight against his shoulder, and notices you've started to doze off against him. eyes wide, anxious about shattering the fragile moment, he carefully opens his arms in invitation.
half asleep and acting based on your affection for and trust in him, you climb into his lap, curling against him and falling asleep with your head resting against his chest. sylus stays frozen for quite a while before delicately wrapping his arms around you, his body untensing when he sees a soft smile on your face in return.
idk i have to get back to work but something something strangers to friends to lovers, bored ancient vampire count + sweet human,,gbfsjk
Thinking about Sylus's daughter being kidnapped. Thinking about him becoming absolutely hellbent on getting her back. When he storms the building they're keeping her in, it's a miasma of red and black, chaos that consumes every living soul. Bullets disintegrate inches from his skin. His eyes glow with the flames of hell
When he finds her, he cradles her close, holding her tight against him to feel that she's still alive. His hand at the back of her head, covering one ear while he presses her against his chest, hiding her from the sights and sounds of murder around them. "Don't look, sweetheart," he says, low and gentle, despite the screams. "Daddy's got you. You're safe now."
misty almost visible heat dimmed the room as your bodies collided in perfect sync. sylus’ back rested on the comfy silk sheets below you whilst you found home on his hips, riding him within an inch of life, desperately seeking to quench your desire.
well, more like its desire.
an aether core was something you felt completely familiar with—it’s something you’ve dealt with for your whole life after all. but the way his acted was rather rare.
a selfish greed and wrath settled deep within it, consuming sylus’ very being. you had come across him in the worst of states—cheeks reddened with fever, beads of sweat shining on his temple, uneven breathing. all due to the aether core’s violent and reckless flare.
therefore, you offered to help him! with genuine and innocent intentions of finding a cure to his sickness!
… let’s just say that the cure was not what you had imagined.
your hips clashed with sylus’ at a fast pace, the sound of flesh slapping reverberating throughout the faintly lit room. your face twisted in pleasure—brows knitting together, lips swollen from all the biting. your eyes turned white each time you felt the white-haired man’s tip fuck his way through your tight cervix.
the delicious stretch tingled your insides, walls fluttering around his massive girth. “s-sy, slow d-down—mghh!” you exhaled a humid, soft puff of air. “y—you’re gonna break me,”
a high-pitched yelp slipped off your tongue when he thrusted upwards, burying his length deeper into your leaking pussy—wet sounds echoing lustfully.
“you offered to help, didn’t you?” he murmured, baritone laced with desire. “then help me by taking what i give you.”
his voice sent chills down your spine, your back arching in the most divine crescent moon. your jaw fell open as you felt how he pushed you more and more to the edge, the knot in your belly about to snap at any given moment.
“look at you, falling apart for me like a good girl…” you clenched at the praise and sylus chuckled under his breath, you always turned into putty in his hands whenever he called you that.
the tightening knot building up in your belly threatened to snap, desperate cries falling from your lips as his cock continued bullying your entrance, tip expanding your insides deliciously.
his girth grazed your sweet spot and stars framed your vision. “that’s the spot, isn’t it?” he pushed himself a bit deeper for good measure—as if he needed to do so—, a guttural moan coming from you as a response. he chuckled lowly as a dangerous glint sparkled in his eye. “that’s my girl, you’re so close... i can feel it.”
a growl sneaked through his words as you clamped around him, his never-ending praise tipping you over the sinful abyss of pleasure.
“you’ve been so good for me…” he moved to place a sweet kiss against your lips, sealing his everlasting love in a secret promise. “so good—ngh—i know you want to cum, sweetie. do you want it? do you want me to fill you up? leave you with my cum dripping out of your sweet pussy?”
his words, his dick ramming against your gummy walls and the heat of his body pressed against yours made you dizzy, sex drunk. “y-yes please! sy—ngah!—c-can i cum?”
what a sweet girl you were.
“yes—yes, my love. cum, cum for me.” sylus’ demand shattered you, hips only focused on chasing your high as they rocked at a bestial pace. you reached your peak, gushing clear fluid all over the sheets.
you didn’t register when sylus took over, hands gripping your hips tightly as he kept jackhammering his pelvis against your plushy walls. the scarlet glow burning in his eye deepened whilst he sought his release. the feeling of your cunt gripping his member so tightly—almost as though it were scared of letting it go—turned his vision white as he spurted sticky ropes of cum into your warmth, filling you up to the brim.
the last thing you remember was sylus peppering your face with cute smooches while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
before you drifted off, you heard him say: “thank you, my love.”
it wasn’t the cure you’d prepared for but god, weren’t you going to help him if it ever happened again?
Alright, I'm driving the struggle bus, everyone hop in.
No but seriously, I needed some hurt/comfort pretty bad, so even though I'm not really participating in the fandom anymore, it was time to lean on my comfort character.
This is Sylus x Reader, though the insinuation is that you are the MC.
Tags: Hurt/comfort, mentions of depression/stress/struggling, Sylus definitely isn't wearing clothes for this scene but it's fine it's not that type of fic, relinquishing control.
I hope it gives you as much comfort as it did for me. Take care of yourselves as best you can <3
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Sylus has just fallen asleep.
It’s something you occasionally marvel at, like a street tomcat finally trusting you enough to pet it. His breathing has evened out into a slow rhythm, a heavy lullaby that almost tempts you back to sleep.
Almost.
Unfortunately, work comes first.
You two have settled into a strange routine - your waking and his sleeping meeting in the middle, a brief period of time spent tangled together to steal a moment of peace.
Every once in a while he teases you with the offer of joining Onychinus.
Each time you consider it just a little bit more.
Sitting up, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. If this was one of the rare times he slept at yours, the sun would be straining to force its way through your blackout curtains.
Times like these, you hated the sun almost as much as he did.
You glance over your shoulder. Sylus’s hair is striking against the dark sheets, like a self-contained scattering of moonlight. His back is bare to the open air, the bare jut of his hips barely covered by the blankets.
His face is turned away from you, but you know what you’d see. Thick, dusty eyelashes kissing pale cheeks, his lips parted with a soft sigh.
You look away. Scrubbing your face tiredly, you silently curse him for being temptation incarnate. Your body still aches from a particularly vicious day at work, and he rests like an angel in one of those damn classical paintings.
It isn’t fair.
Already your mind is at work. Ticking away at an endless list of responsibilities, reminding you that you still have to endure the drive through the N109 Zone.
The Aether Core, another mission, unraveling mysteries about yourself, your family, your lover… It feels like one brick after another, dropping heavy onto your shoulders until it forces you deep into the abyss of your stress.
Drowning you.
Already, you can feel the grains of exhaustion stabbing your eyes, a slight twinge of pain above your eyebrow that promises a violent migraine later.
In this room you feel alone. The darkness sinking around you, erasing everything but your endless struggling.
An arm wraps around your waist. Like a lifeline, corded not with rope, but with muscle and warmth.
“Tell me.” It isn’t a question. There isn’t a choice. He knows it’s not what you need, and the knowledge is freeing. His rich, low voice, sanded by sleep, binds you to him as much as the Aether Core.
“I…can’t,” you whisper. He knows what you mean. Not that you can’t answer the question, but that the struggle of the day is too much to face.
Sylus’s bicep tightens. He drags you back, and you let him. Back into his warm embrace as he pulls the covers over the both of you. “Then don’t.”
It’s such a simple answer. You hate it. You hate that your mind is screaming, telling you everything that will happen if you stay.
You shudder out a sigh, curling into a little ball. “But-”
“No.” He turns you around, arranges you perfectly until your head is resting on his chest. “It can wait. Everything will still be there. And even if it isn’t, I will still be here.”
You sniffle. Your eyes sting with tears as he runs his hand soothingly down the curve of your spine.
“Stay, kitten,” He whispers. “Let me handle it, at least for a while.”
You don’t have the energy to argue. Normally it aggravates you how often he’s right, but today it just feels relieving.
“...Okay,” you finally say. Your arms wrap around his waist and you squeeze him as hard as you can. Clinging to him like he’s your raft in a storm.
He curls around you and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll have the chef make your favorites, and we’ll take a bath together when you wake. Just go back to sleep.”
You nod. Your throat is tight with tears. “And you’ll be here when I wake up?” You ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.
He sighs. It’s a sad sound, mixed with more grief and history than you could even imagine.
His arms tighten around you.
“Always,” he promises.
Your breath leaves you all at once in a shuddering exhale as you let yourself collapse into his embrace. Sylus doesn't flinch or complain, easily supporting your weight as he holds you against him.
You wrap your arms around his broad torso, gripping tightly to his shirt as if you're afraid he'll be ripped from your grasp at any moment. He lets out a soft sigh of worry, his breath brushing your forehead as he presses his lips there, holding them against your skin for a long while before parting.
There's no trace of his usual teasing tone as he speaks this time. "Just lean into me. Let me take care of everything." As if sensing the protest growing in your tightening throat, he shushes you softly, beginning to rub your back in gentle, slow circles. His hand feels so big, the weight of it against you bringing you solace. "If there's anything you want to handle yourself, let me help you. No matter what you need, you're never too much."
Every shaky breath you take in allows you to lose yourself in his scent, helping you calm yourself bit by bit. You remember when he asked you to help him choose the fragrance of his body wash. He still uses it, even months later.
Its scent permeates so many happy memories that you've had the privilege of collecting with him. It gives you hope for the future, knowing that you'll have the opportunity to add so many more to your trove.
"That's it." He purrs, scattering kisses on the top of your head as he feels the tension begin to leave your limbs. "You can let go. I've got you. I won't ever let you fall."
And you do, slumping further into him as you let your breath slow to match his. You feel the way you rise and fall alongside his powerful chest as he inhales and exhales. His body feels so solid and real against yours.
His warmth radiates through his clothing to soothe your anxious chills, and you let your grip on his shirt slacken. You let yourself focus on the movement of his muscles beneath his shirt, the sound of his heartbeat, the love you can hear in every word that leaves his lips.
You trust him more than you've ever trusted anyone else. And it's scary to take that leap of faith, entrusting all of yourself to someone else, but he catches you every time. He has never once let you down.
"Do you want to lie down for a while?" At your nod, he picks you up with ease, keeping you held against his chest with a firm hand on your back. You close your eyes, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you let him decide where to take you.
He sits down on a couch, lying back against the armrest and guiding you to recline alongside him, staying in his lap. You're not quite sure where you are, but you don't want to move from your comfy spot to take a look. Leaning on him for comfort is a relatively new privilege, but one you value greatly. And Sylus seems almost giddy at the opportunity to pamper you like this, though he likely masks his enthusiasm to avoid spooking you.
"Rest, sweetheart. I'll keep you safe." He murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. You nod, already melting into him.
here is another hug fic by @/leighsartworks216 !! sylus is so huggable its not fair
“Happiness” was too small a word to capture your moment with your family. No words could ever describe the gratitude, the feeling, the moment you had. You could never have imagined what your life would be like if you hadn’t met Sylus. He was the one who brought light into your world. After all the attempts to push him away—feeling that you were never good enough for him—he still reached for you.
He was always saying things like, “I should be the one feeling gratitude. You brought many changes into my life. You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”
You knew you could never push him away, even if you wanted to. And the day he proposed to you, you were completely speechless. You were always worried about the journey and the future ahead of you, but all your worries vanished when he entered your world. And when the two of you realized you were pregnant with twin boys, the expressions, the protection, and everything he did and provided for you were things you could never forget.
Everything was perfect—your family, your Sylus, your Lucian and Kyros, your Luke and Kieran, and Mephisto. Nothing could harm what was yours.
Until you realized it wasn’t an external factor that shattered your happiness.
It was you.
“How are you feeling today, sweetie?” Sylus said as he smiled. He had stayed with you in the hospital the entire night after you threw up blood again.
“I’m fine, Sylus. Feeling better now,” you said with a gentle smile.
He reached for your hand and held it carefully. “That’s good to hear. I’ll get the doctors to check on you. I’ll be right back.”
You nodded. He stood up—his tall, broad, fit figure walking out the door.
You couldn’t help but feel sorry. How could such a powerful, unbeatable leader of the N109 Zone spend an entire night without sleep just for a girl?
That thought had followed you since your first hospital visit, since the diagnosis of an illness they couldn’t fix. You still remembered the day you lost all hope for your future—a year ago, when everything started to fall apart.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Qin,” the doctor said. “Your illness… it isn’t curable. It’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen in this field, and we believe there is no cure.”
The doctor hesitated before continuing. “I’m afraid… three to five years is the most time you have left.”
Your heart sank. Your vision blurred. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You lowered your head.
Sylus immediately spoke, his voice low and dangerous as the atmosphere shifted. “Repeat what you just said. You dare have the audacity to—”
You quickly grabbed his hand and shook your head. Sylus looked at you. Though you said nothing, he could feel and hear everything.
Sylus, don’t. You know it isn’t his fault.
He narrowed his brows, pain flashing in his eyes.
The doctor continued, “Mr. Qin, we will try our best to find a cure. However, we cannot guarantee any results. As I mentioned, this is something we’ve never seen before.”
You turned to the doctor and slowly spoke. “Three to five years… that’s all I have?”
He nodded.
You smiled weakly, thanked him, and left his office while holding Sylus’s hand.
That night, you couldn’t stop crying. The tears wouldn’t come to an end. You were scared—this wasn’t something you could undo.
Sylus held you tightly as you cried harder. He couldn’t say anything. He felt like he had failed you. He had promised to give you the world, yet this was something he couldn’t fix. Nothing mattered if you weren’t here with him.
You clutched his shirt. “Sylus… What am I going to do? Why is this happening to me? What about Lucian and Kyros? I’ll miss everything in their lives. They won’t have their mother to take care of them…”
“Enough,” Sylus interrupted gently. “Kitten, enough. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll find a way. I promise.”
He looked at you, pain filling his eyes, and rested his head on your shoulder. It hurt him to see you giving up. No—he wouldn’t let you face this alone. Even if the price was his own life, he would pay it if it meant saving you.
“Kitten… Kitten. Are you alright?”
Sylus stood in front of you with doctors and nurses behind him. You blinked and responded, “Yeah… yeah. Just reminiscing.”
He gave you a small smile and let the doctors examine you. After reviewing the tests, the doctor said you were cleared to go home.
“Mrs. Qin, your illness is getting worse,” the doctor said gently. “However, you are doing better than expected, which is a good sign. Since you are no longer coughing up blood, we believe it’s safe for you to return home. We’ve also discussed this with your husband and would like to conduct your checkups at your residence instead. If anything happens, our medical team will come directly to you. How does that sound?”
You hesitated. You didn’t want Lucian or Kyros to see you at your worst.
“I… I don’t know. Lucian and Kyros… I don’t want them to see me like this,” you said quietly.
Sylus reached for your hand. “I know. But you’re getting weaker, Kitten. This will be best. When you have checkups, I’ll ask Luke and Kieran to take the boys out so they won’t see anything. How does that sound?”
You lowered your gaze, then nodded. “Alright. But promise me you won’t let them see me like this. I don’t want them to worry. I don’t want them to think I’m dying.”
Sylus brushed your cheek gently. “I promise.”
The house felt different the moment you stepped inside—not quieter, but restrained, as if every sound knew to lower itself around you. Sylus kept his hand firmly around yours as he guided you forward, never rushing, never loosening his grip. Luke and Kieran hovered nearby, watchful but silent, until Sylus gave a subtle nod that sent them retreating down the hall.
You barely had time to register the familiar warmth of the living room before hurried footsteps echoed from the stairs.
“Mommy!”
Lucian and Kyros appeared at once, racing toward you until Sylus stepped in smoothly, kneeling to intercept them before they collided into you.
“Careful,” he said gently but firmly. “What did we talk about?”
The twins froze. Kyros blinked first, then clasped his hands behind his back like he was trying very hard to remember something important. Lucian straightened, inhaled, and nodded.
“We walk,” Lucian said seriously.
“And we hug slowly,” Kyros added.
Sylus shifted aside. “Go on, then.”
They approached you carefully, like you might disappear if they moved too fast. You lowered yourself slowly to your knees despite Sylus’s immediate concern, and the boys wrapped their arms around you with surprising gentleness.
“We missed you,” Kyros murmured into your shoulder.
Lucian pressed his cheek against your arm. “Daddy said you were getting stronger.”
You smiled, even as something twisted painfully in your chest. “I’m trying.”
“That’s okay,” Kyros said confidently. “Trying is almost the same as doing.”
A soft laugh escaped you. “Is it?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “That’s what you always tell us.”
You felt Sylus’s gaze on you, heavy and unreadable.
They stayed like that longer than necessary, until Kyros shifted and looked up at your face with open curiosity. “Mommy, why are you home early?”
You hesitated just a fraction of a second. “Because I wanted to be with you.”
Lucian seemed to accept that answer, but Kyros frowned. “Hospitals fix people.”
“They help people,” you corrected gently.
“Then why do you still look tired?” he asked.
Sylus stepped in smoothly. “Because being brave takes a lot of energy.”
Kyros considered that, then nodded solemnly. “Okay. Then Mommy can have some of mine.”
Before anyone could respond, he wrapped his arms around you again, squeezing as hard as his small body allowed. Lucian followed, leaning in more carefully this time.
You closed your eyes, breathing them in like air.
Eventually, Sylus guided you to the couch, settling you beneath a blanket while the twins dragged their coloring supplies to the floor in front of you. Lucian worked slowly, tongue peeking out in concentration, while Kyros hummed to himself, scribbling with enthusiastic chaos.
“Mommy,” Lucian said after a while, holding up his paper. “This is us.”
You leaned forward. “Tell me.”
He pointed one by one. “That’s Daddy. That’s you. That’s me and Kyros. That’s Uncle Luke and Kieran. And that’s Mephisto.”
Kyros held up his own drawing. “Mine has a dragon.”
You tilted your head slightly. “A dragon?”
“Yes,” Kyros said proudly. “It protects the house.”
Sylus crouched beside them. “Just like your mother does.”
Lucian’s eyes widened. “Mommy’s a dragon?”
Kieran smiled softly. “She always makes sure we’re okay.”
Your breath hitched, but you kept your voice steady. “And you do the same for me.”
That night, as Sylus tucked the boys into bed, Lucian lingered, his grip tight on Sylus’s sleeve.
“Daddy,” he whispered, “is Mommy going to stay?”
Sylus knelt to his level. “Yes.”
Lucian searched his face. “Forever?”
Sylus didn’t look away. “As long as she can.”
Lucian nodded, satisfied—for now.
Later, long after the house had gone quiet, you lay awake, listening to the steady rhythm of Sylus’s breathing beside you. His arm was draped protectively over your waist, his presence solid and grounding.
“I heard what Lucian asked you,” you murmured.
Sylus stiffened beside you, the subtle kind of stillness that always came before a storm. His arm remained around your waist, but the muscles beneath your fingers had gone rigid.
“I didn’t lie,” he said quietly.
“I know.” You turned toward him, careful, slow, as if even moving too suddenly might break something fragile between you. “I just don’t know how to tell them when the time comes.”
His jaw tightened, the familiar line appearing along his cheek. “You won’t have to. I’ll handle it.”
You searched his face in the dim light—the hard resolve, the exhaustion carved deep beneath it. “You can’t protect them from everything.”
“I can try,” he said. “And I will.”
Something in your chest twisted sharply, stealing your breath. You shifted, pressing a hand against your ribs as the ache bloomed and refused to ease. You tried to hide it. You always did.
Sylus noticed immediately.
“What’s wrong,” he said—not a question.
“It’s nothing,” you replied too quickly.
His hand came up to steady you. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not,” you insisted, though your voice wavered. “It’ll pass.”
He sat up abruptly, turning on the bedside lamp. The sudden light made you squint, made everything feel too exposed. His eyes swept over you with frightening precision—your pallor, the way you were breathing shallowly, the faint tremor in your hands.
“You’re getting worse,” he said.
You looked away. “I’m just tired.”
“Kitten.”
The word wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a blade. You flinched before you could stop yourself.
“I know that look,” he continued, voice tight. “You think if you don’t say it out loud, it won’t be real.”
You swallowed. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
The truth sat heavy in your throat. “I can feel it slipping,” you whispered. “Some days it’s small, manageable. Other days…” You trailed off, fingers curling into the sheets. “Other days it feels like my body is already making decisions without me.”
Sylus’s breath stuttered. He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once before dropping back down in front of you, knees pressing into the mattress.
“No,” he said fiercely. “We are not doing this.”
“You asked for the truth.”
“I asked for honesty,” he snapped, then immediately softened. “Not surrender.”
You met his gaze. “I’m not giving up. I’m just… aware.”
His hands came to your shoulders, firm but careful. “You don’t get to talk like this like it’s already over.”
“What if it is?”
“Enough.”
This time his voice broke.
You watched it happen—the fracture, the moment the unbreakable man finally cracked. His grip loosened, hands sliding down your arms as he bowed his head between your knees, forehead pressing into your lap.
“I won’t accept it,” he said hoarsely. “Do you hear me? I won’t.”
Your fingers trembled as you threaded them through his hair. “Sylus…”
“I’m not ready,” he continued, voice muffled, raw. “I’m not ready to explain to our sons why the world took their mother. I’m not ready to wake up and reach for you and find nothing there.”
Your vision blurred. “You think I’m ready?”
Silence swallowed the room.
He lifted his head slowly, eyes red, unguarded. “Then don’t talk like you’re already gone.”
“I’m trying to prepare.”
“For what?” he demanded. “For leaving me?”
“For sparing you,” you whispered.
His hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs pressing beneath your eyes as if he could physically hold you together. “You think losing you slowly hurts less than losing you all at once?”
You shook your head helplessly. “I think watching you destroy yourself trying to save me would be worse.”
His expression twisted—pain, anger, fear colliding all at once. “You don’t get to decide what I can endure.”
“And you don’t get to decide how much longer I can pretend everything’s fine,” you shot back, voice cracking.
The words hung between you, sharp and exposed.
Your chest tightened again, harder this time. You gasped softly, instinctively curling inward. Sylus caught you immediately, pulling you against him, one hand firm at your back.
“Breathe,” he murmured urgently. “Slow. With me.”
You tried. Truly. But your body didn’t listen the way it used to.
Sylus’s fear surged, unmistakable now. “This is what I mean,” he said tightly. “This—this is why I won’t stop.”
“I don’t want Lucian and Kyros remembering nights like this,” you whispered. “I don’t want them to be scared.”
“They already are,” he replied softly. “Because they love you.”
That truth hurt more than anything else.
You rested your forehead against his chest, exhausted in a way sleep couldn’t touch. “If loving me means you’re always fighting,” you said quietly, “then maybe the kindest thing—”
“No.” His voice was immediate, sharp. “Don’t you dare finish that thought.”
He tipped your chin up until you had no choice but to look at him. “Loving you is not a burden. Losing you would be.”
Tears slipped free despite your efforts. “Sylus…”
“I need you to fight with me,” he said. “Not against me. Not alone.”
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. “I’m tired.”
“I know,” he whispered. “Then rest. I’ll be here.”
And you believed him.
That was the cruelest part.
Because even as his arms held you together, you could feel something inside you continuing to unravel—quietly, relentlessly—no matter how fiercely he refused to let go.
You wake to the sound of your own breathing—and the realization that it’s wrong. Too shallow. Too fast. Like your chest can’t quite remember how to expand all the way. Not pain exactly—pressure, crushing and wrong, like your lungs are folding in on themselves. You suck in a breath and choke instead. Your body jerks upright on instinct, hands clawing at the sheets as air refuses to cooperate.
You cough.
Something warm splashes into your palm.
Your vision tunnels.
“Sylus—” you manage, barely audible.
He’s already there.
“Hey—hey, I’m here.” His hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek far too quickly to be calm. “Breathe. Slow down. Look at me.”
You cough again.
More blood.
Not just a trace this time.
Sylus’s face drains of color.
For a heartbeat, he looks like a man staring over the edge of something bottomless.
Then he snaps.
“Luke!” His voice cuts through the house like a blade. “Kieran—now! Call them. Tell them it’s happening again. Tell them to come now.”
You gasp, body folding forward as another coughing fit rips through you. Your hands shake violently. The room tilts.
Sylus pulls you hard against his chest, one arm locking around you, the other fumbling for a towel with shaking fingers.
“No, no—easy,” he murmurs, panic bleeding through the control. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Don’t fight it.”
You try to breathe. You really do. Each inhale scrapes, incomplete, useless.
“I can’t—” you whisper, voice breaking. “I can’t get air.”
“I know.” His forehead presses to your temple. “Just listen to me. In—slow. Out. Stay with my voice.”
Another cough.
The towel darkens quickly.
Sylus’s breath stutters. His grip tightens—too tight, like if he lets go even a fraction you’ll disappear.
“This isn’t—” His voice breaks for the first time. “This isn’t happening like this.”
Luke’s voice echoes from the hall, sharp and urgent. “They’re on their way. Ten minutes.”
“Too long,” Sylus snaps. “It’s too long.”
You sag against him, strength draining frighteningly fast. Your fingers clutch weakly at his shirt.
“Sylus,” you whisper. “I’m scared.”
That does it.
His composure fractures completely.
“Don’t,” he says hoarsely. “Don’t say that. Not now.” He lifts your chin gently, desperately, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. You hear me? You’re staying.”
You try to nod.
Another violent cough steals the motion from you.
Blood spills again.
Sylus swears under his breath—raw, unfiltered, terrified. He presses the towel harder, hands trembling.
“Stay awake,” he begs now, no authority left, only fear. “Please. Just stay with me.”
The front door slams open.
Doctors. Equipment. Voices overlapping.
“She’s coughing blood—acute respiratory distress—” Sylus fires off words too fast, too sharp. “She can’t breathe properly. It’s getting worse.”
They move you immediately—oxygen, vitals, hands everywhere. Sylus refuses to step back.
“I’m staying,” he says, daring anyone to challenge him.
Then—
“Daddy?”
The word cuts through everything.
Sylus turns.
Lucian stands frozen in the doorway, Kyros half-hidden behind him. Their eyes are locked on you—your shaking body, the oxygen mask, the blood-stained towel in Sylus’s hands.
“Mommy?” Lucian’s voice cracks. “Why is she—”
Sylus reacts instantly.
He shifts, putting his entire body between you and them, one arm braced protectively around you, the other extended outward like a barrier.
“No,” he says sharply. “Don’t come closer.”
Lucian flinches.
Kyros whispers, confused and scared, “Is she hurt?”
Luke rushes in, dropping to their level. “Hey—hey, come with me.”
Sylus swallows hard. His voice is tight, barely holding together.
“She’s sick,” he says. “And the doctors are helping her. That’s all you need to know.”
“But—”
“Now,” Sylus says, not unkindly but unbreakable. “Please.”
Lucian hesitates—then Luke gently pulls them back. Kyros starts crying quietly as they’re taken away.
The door closes.
Sylus doesn’t move for a second.
Then his shoulders shake—once.
He bends over you, forehead pressed to yours, voice breaking apart completely.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispers. “I won’t survive it. Do you understand me?”
Your eyes flutter.
“Sylus…” Your voice is faint. “I’m trying.”
“I know,” he says, choking. “I know. Just—keep trying. For me. For them.”
A doctor speaks, firm and urgent. “Her oxygen levels are unstable. We need to intervene more aggressively.”
Sylus looks up, eyes wild. “Do whatever it takes.”
Minutes stretch into something unbearable—machines humming, numbers changing, your breaths finally slowing but shallow, fragile.
When it eases—only slightly—Sylus stays frozen beside you, one hand gripping yours like a lifeline.
“You scared me,” he murmurs again, voice hollow now. “You scared me so badly.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper.
“I know,” he says. “But I don’t know how to do this without you.”
Later—when the crisis has passed just enough to breathe—you’re exhausted, drained, still fragile.
Sylus doesn’t leave.
Not even for a second.
Because now he understands something he’s been refusing to name—This isn’t just illness anymore. It’s a clock. And for the first time, he’s terrified he can hear it ticking.
You try to smile. It doesn’t quite work.
Down the hall, a door creaks.
Small footsteps.
Sylus stiffens instantly.
Lucian stands at the end of the hallway, Kyros just behind him. They’re both barefoot, pajamas wrinkled, eyes too alert for children who should still be asleep.
Luke must have thought they were settled.
Lucian takes one careful step forward.
“Is Mommy sleeping?” Kyros whispers.
Sylus rises immediately, positioning himself between you and them—not blocking entirely, but enough.
“She’s resting,” he says. His voice is gentle, but tired. “She had a hard night.”
Lucian’s gaze flicks past him anyway. He notices everything—the oxygen tubing, the way you haven’t moved, the faint smell of medicine still lingering in the air.
“She was bleeding,” he says quietly. Not accusing. Just stating a fact.
Sylus closes his eyes for half a second.
“Yes,” he admits. “She was.”
Kyros’s small hands twist into Lucian’s sleeve. “Bleeding is bad.”
“It is,” Sylus agrees.
Lucian swallows. “Is she going to be okay?”
The question lands heavy.
Sylus crouches so he’s level with them, shoulders broad, presence steady even though something inside him is fraying.
“She’s sick,” he says carefully. “And sometimes her body doesn’t behave the way it should. But she’s still here. And we’re taking care of her.”
Lucian frowns. “Is it like when I had a fever?”
“No,” Sylus says honestly. “It’s more complicated.”
Kyros’s voice trembles. “Can we hug her?”
Sylus hesitates.
Then he steps aside just enough.
“Slow,” he says. “Very slow.”
They approach like they’re afraid of breaking you. Lucian reaches first, gently touching your hand.
“Hi, Mommy,” he whispers.
Your eyes open fully this time. “Hi, my love.”
Kyros climbs carefully onto the edge of the bed, pressing his forehead against your arm. “You scared Daddy.”
You glance at Sylus.
He looks away.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
Lucian shakes his head immediately. “Daddy says you don’t say sorry for being sick.”
Sylus’s throat tightens.
After a few minutes, Luke appears quietly in the doorway. “Boys,” he says softly. “Breakfast.”
Lucian hesitates, then nods. “We’ll come back.”
“I’ll be right here,” you promise.
They leave.
The moment they’re gone, Sylus exhales shakily and sits back down, hands braced on his knees.
“They know,” he says quietly. “They know more than they should.”
“They’re smart,” you reply. “They love you.”
“They love you,” he corrects.
He leans forward, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles pale. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admits. “I don’t know how to explain a world where you might not be in it.”
You reach for him weakly. He catches your hand instantly.
“You don’t have to explain everything yet,” you whisper.
“But one day I will,” he says. “And I hate that.”
Later—much later—when you finally drift into an uneasy sleep, Sylus waits.
He doesn’t move until he’s certain you won’t wake.
Then he stands.
The house is quiet again. Luke and Kieran are with the boys. No one sees him slip into his office and close the door behind him.
Inside, the mask finally falls.
He braces both hands against the desk, shoulders shaking once—hard.
Then again.
He drags in a breath that hurts.
“I’m losing her,” he whispers into the empty room. “I’m losing her and I don’t know how to stop it.”
His phone is already in his hand before he can think better of it.
A number he hasn’t used in years.
A line he swore he’d never cross again.
The call connects.
A voice answers—low, unfamiliar, dangerous.
“Sylus Qin,” the voice says. “Didn’t expect to hear from you.”
Sylus closes his eyes.
“I need something,” he says. “Something medicine can’t give me.”
There’s a pause.
“Everything has a price.”
Sylus’s jaw tightens.
“Then name it.”
Because if there is even a fraction of a chance—
He will burn the world to keep you breathing.
You wake late that morning.
Not fully rested—just less hollow than before.
The light coming through the curtains is soft, diffused. Sylus is still beside you, seated in the chair now, jacket draped over the back, sleeves rolled up. His head is bowed, eyes closed, hand still holding yours.
He looks like he hasn’t moved in hours.
You shift slightly. His eyes open instantly.
“You’re awake,” he says.
“Have been for a minute,” you murmur. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
He gives a faint, humorless smile. “I don’t sleep anymore.”
You squeeze his fingers weakly. “You should.”
“I will,” he lies easily.
The day passes quietly.
Too quietly.
Lucian and Kyros are gentle in ways that break your heart—careful voices, slow movements, asking permission before climbing onto the couch beside you. Kyros brings you a blanket you already have. Lucian reminds Sylus about your medication before Sylus even checks the time.
They shouldn’t know how to do this.
And that’s when the thought settles—heavy, undeniable.
You don’t have much time left to pretend.
So you start small.
When everyone is asleep that night, you sit at the desk in the spare room with a blanket around your shoulders and a cup of tea slowly cooling beside you. Your hands tremble as you open a drawer and pull out a small notebook.
You write Lucian’s name first.
Then Kyros.
You don’t write letters—not yet. You’re not ready for that. Instead, you make lists. Quiet, practical, deceptively ordinary.
Lucian & Kyros — Birthday
– Lucian: the astronomy book he keeps pointing at
– Kyros: the dragon figurine (red, not blue—he said blue was “too sad”)
– Matching scarves (ask Kieran about sizes)
You pause, catching your breath.
Luke & Kieran — Christmas
– The watch Kieran liked but wouldn’t buy
– Luke’s favorite tea (the one he pretends not to care about)
Your chest tightens, but you keep going.
Mephisto
– The shiny bell he always steals
Your pen hesitates at the last name.
Sylus.
You stare at the page for a long time before writing.
Sylus
– The jacket you always loved (should be returned to its owner)
Your vision blurs. You set the pen down, pressing your fingers to your eyes until the moment passes.
This isn’t giving up, you tell yourself.
This is loving them carefully.
On good mornings, you sit in the garden with the boys while Sylus watches from a distance, pretending to work, never truly looking away. On bad afternoons, you rest while Luke distracts them with games and stories that are a little louder than necessary.
Sylus is different.
Still gentle. Still present.
But there’s an edge to him now—restless, coiled. He leaves more often. Come back later. Smells like cold air and something unfamiliar.
You notice. Of course you do.
One evening, as you fold small sweaters at the foot of the bed, he watches you from the doorway.
“What are you doing,” he asks quietly.
“Organizing,” you say easily.
His eyes flick to the neat piles. To the labels written in your careful handwriting.
“You don’t need to do that,” he says.
You look up at him. “It makes me feel useful.”
Something flickers across his face—fear, sharp and immediate.
He says softly. “Don’t start acting like this is final.”
You step toward him slowly. “I’m not leaving,” you say. “I’m just… making sure nothing is forgotten.”
His hands come up to frame your face, urgent but careful. “You’re not being forgotten. Ever.”
You lean into his touch. “I know.”
You don’t mean to go into Sylus’s office.
At first, you’re just looking for him. The house is quiet—too quiet—and his absence presses against your ribs like a warning. You move slowly down the hall, one hand braced against the wall, steadying yourself with each step.
The door to his office is ajar.
That alone makes your stomach tighten.
Sylus never leaves it open.
You push it wider.
The room smells like cold air and paper and something metallic underneath. The lights are on. His desk is a mess—not careless, but used. Files stacked out of order. A tablet left unlocked. Handwritten notes scattered like he ran out of time to organize them.
Your breath stutters.
You know this feeling.
This is preparation.
You move closer, heart pounding harder with every step. Your fingers brush the edge of a document—and freeze.
Your name.
Again and again.
Medical terminology you recognize. Others you don’t. Diagrams. Dates. Locations. Names that make no sense to you—and some that absolutely do.
Your hand shakes as you scroll through the tablet. Messages. Contacts. Coordinates. A timeline—tight, aggressive, terrifyingly confident.
At the bottom of one page, a single line stands out:
Price: Permanent. Non-negotiable.
Your chest constricts violently.
“What… did you do,” you whisper.
The door clicks shut behind you.
You don’t need to turn around.
“I told you I was looking for answers.”
His voice is calm.
Too calm.
You spin, anger and fear crashing together so hard it steals your breath. “This isn’t the answer, Sylus. This is insanity.”
His eyes flick to the papers in your hands. For the first time, something like regret flashes across his face—not for the plan.
For you seeing it.
“You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”
“I wasn’t supposed to find out at all,” you snap. “You were just going to decide? On your own?”
He steps closer. “I was going to fix this.”
“At what cost?” Your voice breaks. “Your life?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
The words hit like a slap.
“You don’t get to do this,” you say, shaking now. “I didn’t ask you to.”
“I know,” he says immediately. “You never would.”
“Because it’s wrong.”
“Because you’re scared.”
“Because I love you!” you shout.
The sound echoes in the room.
Sylus stops moving.
Your chest burns, sharp and sudden, but you don’t stop. “You think saving me by destroying yourself is love? You think Lucian and Kyros would thank you for that?”
“If you live,” he says, voice hardening, “they’ll have their mother.”
“And what will they have of you?” you demand. “A ghost? A memory? A man who chose to disappear instead of staying with his family?”
His jaw clenches. “You’re asking me to watch you die.”
“I’m asking you to stay,” you cry. “Even if it hurts.”
Pain explodes through your chest.
Not dull this time—white-hot, crushing, immediate. You gasp, fingers digging into the edge of the desk as your legs buckle.
Sylus is at your side instantly.
“Hey—no—Kitten look at me,” he says, panic breaking through.
You cough.
Blood spills onto the floor.
Not a trace.
Not a warning.
Enough to make Sylus go pale.
“Kieran!” he roars.
Your body folds inward as another wave hits. You can’t get enough air. The room spins violently.
“I didn’t mean—” you gasp. “I just—”
“Don’t talk,” Sylus says desperately, lifting you into his arms.
Doctors arrive too fast and not fast enough. Orders barked. Equipment deployed. Oxygen. Injections. Your consciousness frays at the edges.
The last thing you feel before sleep takes you is Sylus’s forehead pressed to yours, his voice breaking completely.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
When you wake, the light is dim.
Your body feels heavy. Hollow. Like something important was shaken loose and hasn’t come back yet.
Sylus isn’t beside you.
Panic flickers—until you feel it.
The presence.
Down the hall.
In your office.
You find him there, standing frozen in the doorway, staring at your desk.
Your notebook lies open.
Lists neatly written.
Carefully labeled.
Prepared.
He doesn’t turn when you enter.
“How long,” he asks quietly, “have you been doing this?”
You swallow. “Long enough.”
His shoulders slump—just a fraction, but it’s enough to devastate you.
“This is what you think survival looks like?” he says. “Preparing for everyone else to go on without you?”
You step closer. “This is me loving them without asking them to bleed for it.”
He turns then—eyes red, shattered. “You think watching you fade isn’t bleeding?”
Tears spill down your cheeks. “I think losing you would destroy them.”
“I already am,” he admits. “Every day.”
Silence stretches—raw, exhausted.
“I won’t go through with it,” he says quietly.
Your breath catches.
“But not because it’s wrong,” he continues. “Because you’re right. If I lose myself, I lose you anyway.”
He looks at you fully now.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For trying to decide your life for you. For thinking love meant control.”
You press your forehead to his. “I’m sorry for hiding from you. For preparing to leave without telling you.”
He exhales shakily. “We fight together.”
You nod. “Together.”
He pulls you into his arms—gentle, reverent, terrified.
Little things disappear first. Appetite. Strength. The ability to stand in front of the mirror without looking away. Some mornings, you don’t recognize the person staring back—too thin, too pale, eyes too large for a face that no longer feels like yours.
The coughing never truly stops.
Some days are quieter than others, but the taste of iron lingers, constant, unavoidable. Sylus learns to read your breathing the way others read clocks. He knows when to bring water, when to steady you, when to hold you without speaking.
The twins notice everything.
Lucian starts sleeping on the floor beside your bed, wrapped in one of Sylus’s old sweaters. Kyros insists on holding your hand whenever you’re awake, his small fingers warm and stubborn.
“You’re cold,” he tells you seriously. “I’ll help.”
You let him believe that.
Doctors come more often now. Their voices are softer. Their eyes linger too long.
One afternoon, while you’re resting, Sylus stands in the hallway with them. You hear fragments through the door.
When he finally does, his voice is steady—but empty. “Tell me what she needs.”
After that, time becomes strange.
Lucian brings you drawings every day. Pictures of you standing tall, smiling, hair long and dark again. You always notice the same detail—he never draws you sick.
Sylus stands at the foot of the bed, arms crossed too tightly over his chest. He doesn’t interrupt. He can’t.
“Today was good,” Lucian tells you once, climbing carefully onto the bed. “I drew us happily.”
You take the paper with trembling hands. “It’s beautiful.”
Kyros leans over, pointing. “That’s you. You’re not tired there.”
You smile. “I like that version of me.”
Lucian hesitates, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out another folded piece of paper. “I drew you another one,” he says quietly. “This time you’re watching us from the bench.”
You unfold it slowly. Your hands shake, but you keep smiling. “You’re both so tall here.”
“That’s because we grow,” Kyros says seriously. “Daddy says that’s what we’re supposed to do.”
You swallow.
“Yes,” you whisper. “That’s right.”
You set the drawing aside and reach for the scarves.
Black and red, soft and warm. Matching.
You wrap one gently around Lucian’s neck, then Kyros’s, your fingers lingering as if memorizing them.
“For when it’s cold,” you tell them, voice steady even as your chest aches. “So you’ll always have each other.”
Lucian frowns slightly. “You’re colder than us.”
“I know,” you say softly. “But I want you warm.”
They hug you—slow, careful, like they’ve been trained to love gently.
You pull them closer, what little strength you have wrapping around them. Their warmth presses into you, overwhelming, like something already turning into memory.
“I want you to listen to me,” you say gently.
Lucian stiffens. Kyros goes quiet.
“No matter where you go,” you continue, “no matter how big you get, I’m always with you. Okay?”
Lucian nods, blinking fast. “You’ll be here tomorrow.”
You smile at him. “I’ll always be with you.”
Kyros presses his face into your shoulder. “Promise?”
“I promise,” you whisper.
You kiss Lucian’s hair. Then Kyros’s.
Your voice breaks just once.
“Goodnight,” you murmur.
Then, barely loud enough to exist:
“Goodbye, my love.”
They don’t hear the difference.
Luke guides them out. Kyros looks back once. Lucian doesn’t.
Sylus stays.
That night, you lie in bed with Sylus, his arms around you, your back pressed to his chest. His breathing is uneven. He hasn’t slept properly in days.
“Sylus? Tomorrow,” you whisper, “can we go somewhere?”
“Anywhere,” he says instantly.
“The flowers,” you murmur. “Or the beach. With everyone.”
He swallows. “We’ll do both if you want.”
You smile faintly. “Don’t promise too much.”
He tightens his hold. “I’ll promise everything.”
Later, when the house is quiet and your breathing grows shallow, you turn in his arms.
“Sylus,” you whisper.
“I’m here.”
“I love you.”
His breath catches. “I know. I love you too.”
“You brought so many changes into my life,” you continue softly. “You gave me a world I never thought I’d have.”
“Stop...,” he whispers. “Please don’t talk like this.”
You lift your hand weakly, brushing his cheek. “Don’t cry too much without me.”
A broken sound leaves him. “I can’t do this.”
“You can,” you say gently. “For them. For me.”
Your eyes flutter. You press your forehead to his chest, listening to his heart like you’ve done a thousand times before.
“Goodbye, my love,” you whisper.
“No,” he breathes. “Stay.”
But your body is already quiet.
Too quiet.
Sylus realizes it not by sound—but by the absence of effort. The way your chest no longer struggles. The way your weight settles completely into his arms.
He holds you tighter.
And tighter.
He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t move. He just rocks you gently, like he’s afraid the world might notice if he lets go.
Morning comes.
The house wakes.
But you don’t.
And Sylus stays exactly where he is, arms wrapped around the woman who was his light, his anchor, his everything—even as the world keeps going without you.
Light spills through the curtains you always forgot to close properly, touching the edge of the bed where Sylus still sits. You are still there in his arms—too still. Too light. Your breathing never returns.
He doesn’t move.
He doesn’t speak.
He just holds you tighter, like pressure alone might convince the universe it made a mistake.
When Kieran finally knocks, it’s soft. Respectful. Like knocking on a grave.
Sylus doesn’t answer.
Kieran opens the door anyway—and stops dead.
The room smells like you. Faint medicine. Clean sheets. Something floral you insisted on keeping nearby. The silence is wrong. Too complete.
Luke understands first.
He turns away.
Kieran swallows hard. “Boss…”
Sylus’s voice is empty. “She’s sleeping.”
But even as he says it, he knows.
Lucian and Kyros come running down the hall barefoot, scarves still looped loosely around their necks—black and red, slightly too long.
“Mommy?” Kyros calls.
No answer.
Lucian slows first. He always does. He sees the adults’ faces. The way no one moves. The way the house feels like it’s holding its breath.
Sylus finally stands.
He turns slowly, carefully, as if sudden movement might shatter what’s left of him.
Lucian looks past him.
Sees the bed.
Sees you.
Don't understand why you aren’t waking up.
“Daddy,” he says, small and precise. “She’s not breathing.”
Kyros starts crying immediately—loud, broken sobs that echo off the walls.
Sylus drops to his knees in front of them.
His hands shake when he reaches for them.
“She’s… she’s gone,” he says, and the word nearly kills him. “Mommy had to leave.”
Kyros screams.
“No! She promised—she promised—!”
Lucian doesn’t cry at first.
He just stares.
Then he whispers, “She said she’d always be with us.”
Sylus pulls them into his chest, crushing them there, forehead pressed into their hair.
“She will be,” he says hoarsely. “Just not the way we wanted.”
That’s when Lucian breaks.
Days pass wrong.
Too quiet. Too slow.
You are everywhere and nowhere.
Your mug is still on the counter.
Your notebook is half-open on your desk.
Your jacket is missing from its hook—because Sylus hasn’t taken it off since.
It’s Kieran who finally goes into your office.
He means to tidy. To protect Sylus from seeing too much.
Instead, he finds the letters.
Neatly stacked. Labeled. Calm. Intentional.
He doesn’t open them.
He carries them straight to Sylus with shaking hands.
“She knew,” Kieran says quietly. “She prepared.”
Sylus stares at the envelopes like they might explode.
Then—slowly—he opens the first one.
To Lucian & Kyros
My brave boys,
If you are reading this, then I wasn’t strong enough to stay as long as I wanted.
I need you to know something very important first:
This was never because I didn’t love you enough.
I loved you so much it filled every moment I had.
Lucian—
You see things deeply. You always have. Don’t let the world harden that. Protect your kindness. It is your greatest strength.
Kyros—
You feel everything loudly. Never be ashamed of that. The world needs your heart exactly as it is.
You will grow. You will change. One day you won’t remember the sound of my voice clearly—and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean I’m gone. I am in every lesson you learn, every time you protect each other, every laugh that surprises you.
Be gentle with your father. He loves you more than his own breath, even when he doesn’t know how to show it.
Wear your scarves when it’s cold.
Hold hands when it’s scary.
And never doubt this—
You were the best thing that ever happened to me.
Goodbye, my loves.
But never truly goodbye.
—Mommy
To Luke & Kieran
You were my quiet heroes.
Thank you for guarding this family when I no longer could. Thank you for stepping in without being asked, for loving my boys like your own, for carrying Sylus when he pretended not to need it.
Please remind him to eat.
Please remind him that grief doesn’t make him weak.
Please stay.
They will need you.
I’m grateful beyond words.
—Always thankful
To Mephisto
You were loud. You were stubborn. You were loyal.
Thank you for staying by the bed even when no one asked you to. Thank you for barking at the doctors and guarding the door like it was your duty.
Take care of them now.
—Your human
To Sylus,
If you are reading this, then I need you to do something very hard for me.
Breathe.
I know you won’t want to. I know the world will feel wrong, unfinished, unbearably loud and unbearably empty all at once. But you have to keep breathing. For the boys. And—whether you believe it or not—for me.
I know you’ll blame yourself. You always do. You’ll think of every deal, every promise, every sleepless night and wonder where you failed.
You didn’t.
You never did.
You loved me with a kind of devotion that most people only read about. You gave me safety when I was afraid, strength when I was weak, and a life I never believed I deserved. Every extra day I had was because of you. Every smile mattered because you were there to see it.
Please don’t regret loving me so fiercely.
If I could choose again, I would still choose you—every time, in every lifetime, even knowing how it ends.
I need you to listen to me now.
Do not turn yourself into a monument of grief.
Do not disappear behind control and silence.
Do not punish yourself by surviving without living.
Lucian needs your steadiness. Kyros needs your warmth. They need to see that love does not end when someone leaves—it changes shape, but it does not vanish.
Tell them about me when it hurts and when it doesn’t. Tell them silly things. Tell them how stubborn I was. Tell them how much I adored you when you weren’t looking.
And Sylus—
one day, when the ache dulls just enough, I want you to let yourself feel happiness again. Not because I am gone, but because I was here. Because loving me taught you how.
That is not betrayal.
That is honoring me.
Thank you for staying when I was afraid.
Thank you for holding my hand even when it was breaking your heart.
Thank you for loving me all the way to the end.
I am not afraid anymore.
I am only sad to leave you.
And if there is anywhere beyond this life—anywhere at all—I will be waiting for you there, just like I always did. With patience. With love.
Don’t cry too much without me.
But if you do—
I will understand.
Always yours,
always loved,
your Kitten Y/N
He doesn’t try to stop the tears this time. They come silently, endlessly, soaking the paper you once held with shaking hands.
You planned everything.
Not because you were giving up—but because you loved them too much to leave them unprepared.
The world continues.
Slowly. Cruelly. Inevitably.
Flowers bloom outside the window you once wanted to see. The sea waits for a visit that will never happen. The scarves are worn every winter. The drawings are kept.
And Sylus—
Sylus lives.
Not because it’s easy.
Not because it’s fair.
But because you asked him to.
And because somewhere, in every quiet room, in every steady breath, in every act of love he gives your sons—
BISH YOUR MAKING ME CRY AT 6:30 IN THE FREAKING MORNING 💔😭😭😭 congratuFUlations
(I’m joking this was written so beautifully it really reminded me of the anime “violet evergarden” where a sick mother writes to her daughter while she’s gone beautiful work omg I just have no words to describe this MASTERPIECE 🥹)
Hello!! I never submitted a request before, so sorry in advance if this one sounds, I guess, a little melodramatic? I wanted to ask, I personally have a stuffed animal I’ve been sleeping with for years now, to the point it looks a little worn out and the stuffing has seemed to evaporate somehow, but I can’t sleep without it. With that being said, could you possibly write how the lads would react to an MC who stubbornly always has to sleep with an old plushie from childhood?
𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluffy fluff! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚this was such a cute request! love me some fluff ♡ i actually have a big unicorn plushie and he's... he's lost a lot stuffing, for sure. i can't even make out the shape anymore (,,╥﹏╥,,)
𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚... you'll find your bed perfectly made, with your plushie waiting for you in the cutest of positions, holding a snack and a silly note. ♡
﹙♡﹚this grown man will create a voice for your plush and manipulate you into coming back home with texts like “we miss you, we'll die without you, pls come home :(”
﹙♡﹚before you sleep, you better believe caleb will tuck you in with your plushie, so it's always secure no matter how much you move. he wants you to feel safe and sound in your most vulnerable moments.
﹙♡﹚caleb also ensures throughout the night that the plush hasn't fallen out of your arms. he will pick it up and hand it back to you every time.~
﹙♡﹚he makes sure you have it when you need it the most. if you're sleeping anywhere else, he'll remind you not to forget it. if you do, though, don't worry. he'll go wherever you are just to deliver your soft best friend straight to your hands.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚he doesn't take you that seriously at first. like, okay, he does believe you sleep with it, but… you can't rest when the plushie isn't around? he has to witness that.
﹙♡﹚oh, the poor plush has seen better days for sure. raffy offers to patch it up and fix the stuffing if you let him, but if not, you'll occasionally find him fluffing it up or fixing its shape.
﹙♡﹚he makes clothes for it. yeah. cute little sweaters, its own pajamas, maybe a cute hat and whatnot. ♡
﹙♡﹚when raffy gets mad, though, he'll steal the plushie from your arms. straight up. says he needs comfort more than you do, and that being selfish is not cute!
﹙♡﹚you'll also catch him muttering something about “my cutie should only need me to sleep well…” so if your plushie ends up under the bed, you can guess who the culprit is.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚takes it just as seriously as you do. honestly, he might smirk a bit and maybe even chuckle, but it's because he finds it absolutely lovely.
﹙♡﹚the fact that you've loved something so dearly and still treasure it to this day… gosh, his heart crumbles, he loves you so much.
﹙♡﹚your plushie will have its own sleeping robe, just like his. sylus will also leave some space so it can sleep between you; that way it doesn't fall off the bed at night.
﹙♡﹚talks to it when you're moody or sad, especially if he can't get you to hug him or open up to him. “make sure you cuddle my sweetheart tighter at night. it might improve their mood.” ugh, pleaseeee.
﹙♡﹚as he kisses you goodnight, you might catch him kissing the plushie's head. in his eyes, it's been taking care of you and making you feel safe since you were a kid, so he's thankful.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚a fellow sleeping companion, or a rival, if you will. you already know how xavi acts around plushies, so beware of random punching and rough handling.
﹙♡﹚well, you have two arms, so you better use one to embrace your plushie, and one to embrace xavier. can't neglect either.
﹙♡﹚what's so special about that stuffed animal anyway? xavier can bring you safety and comfort if you let him. hell, he'll even wear worn-out clothes to look just as… old, or “thoroughly loved”.
﹙♡﹚xavi will still hold you as you hold your plushie. he just has to give in, since he knows how much it means to you. ♡
﹙♡﹚however… you might find him cuddling your childhood plush if you come home late. his excuse? it smells like you. the reality? he believes the plushie truly gives him better sleep.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚the first time you show him your plushie, he'll gently shake its paw/hand. he can immediately tell it means a lot to you, so he'll show both respect and endearment.
﹙♡﹚he asks a lot of questions so he can better understand why you treasure it so much. who gave it to you, how long it's been by your side, how it makes you feel when you can't/don't sleep with it…
﹙♡﹚and he'll remember every detail, too. he really cares about what makes you happy, no matter if you might feel a bit self-conscious about it.
﹙♡﹚whenever you're extremely tired, he'll bring the plushie to your arms without even having to ask. honestly, it's reassuring how calm and accepting he is. ♡
﹙♡﹚if you somehow forgot it and can't sleep, he'll promise to replace it as best as he can. it's not… exactly the same, but he just wants you to sleep safely and have sweet dreams :(
