“you sure it’s already time for another one, babe?” you question with a knowing smile when caleb runs his fingers through the dark brown strands before sitting on the carpeted floor. “i thought we were gonna wait for the weekend?”
he hums thoughtfully as he slots himself in between your spread legs with his bare back pressed to the cushioned frame of the couch. while he seemingly tries to come up with some lame excuse for why he wants a haircut two days earlier than usual, you take the time to hand him the tv remote and grab the pair of professional-enough scissors that he purchased specifically for your use only.
“i just want my honey to give me a little trim, is all.” he shrugs his broad shoulders. “that a crime or somethin’ now?”
“a little trim, huh?” you chuckle fondly from the way his breath shudders with an exhale the moment your nails graze his scalp in your inspection of what exactly you’ve been tasked to work with. “seems like all you want are these ‘little trims’.”
it was four months ago when caleb entrusted you to give him a haircut for the first time. he had some cheap scissors, his favorite girl, and a dream when he randomly asked if you wanted to give it a try.
naturally, you were terrified. your boyfriend’s hair is and has always been one of your favorite things about him and the mere thought of ruining it—let alone you being the reason for why—was almost enough to prevent what’s now become a favor he shamelessly looks to you for constantly.
but to your surprise, he actually loved it. and it was a sincere kind of love, not the one where you just say it in hopes of reassuring the person who was responsible for an unintentional disaster. you could see the appreciation and awe written all over his face when his eyes lit up after how much he couldn’t stop admiring your amateur work in the mirror.
you’ve been his personal little barber ever since, snipping away the split ends and longer lengths whenever it was needed. not only has he been able to pocket a little more money that inevitably always went to you just how he liked it, but he gets to spend way more more time with the only person he loves more than being in the sky.
it didn’t take much at all to notice how much he simply loved sharing these small spaces of time with you. so much so that your twice a month snips turned into something weekly, forcing you to pretend that work was being done behind him as you finger combed his hair and barely cut anything off since he didn’t actually need it as he claimed to.
caleb wouldn’t admit to it outwardly, but you knew. the feeling of being left in your hands and in between your legs so domestically with something unimportant on the screen was almost better than sex. almost. not quite there, but it was close.
“what do you wanna watch?” he rests his temple on your knee as he scrolls through one of your several streaming services. “we still have that one movie you’ve been wantin’ to finish.”
“you’re gonna fall asleep anyways. doesn’t matter to me. i’m okay with whatever.”
he selects the film anyways, letting you maneuver his head however you need to as you start.
“suuuch little faith you have in me, pips. y’know what? i’m expectin’ a kiss when you’re done. after i prove how wrong you are ‘n all.”
but of course, you weren’t wrong. he did it every time without fail, yet you couldn’t deny how much it made your heart swell with so much love to see him so peaceful and relaxed.
caleb knocked out after only fifteen minutes barely passed, softly snoring with his head laid back against your thigh. he’d get a crook in his neck if you let him stay like that for too long, but his eyebrows pinched like a brat and he whined whenever he felt you try adjusting his position.
you let him sleep like that for only twenty more before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
“caleb baby,” you whisper, kissing his nose and the corner of his lips next. “we’re finished.”
it takes a few long seconds for his eyes to flutter open slightly. “hmph… already? what time ‘s it?”
“time for us to clean up so we can go to bed.”
he grins sleepily. “ah damnit, i lost the bet, didn’t i?”
“i don’t even know why you made it.” your thumb grazes his cheek as he nestles into the tender caress. “if i didn’t wake you, you’d definitely sleep until the credits started rolling.”
“mm… i guess you win. i can admit defeat. buuut.. can i still have one?” the way he blinks up at you slowly like a kitten in love is always the sweetest, even when he’s slyly trying to get a taste of your lips. “for the effort, y’know?”
and even though you roll your eyes, you’re already connecting your mouth to his and kissing him upside down like his favorite spider-man scene.
“i’m not tired anymore.”
“you’re so easy,” you laugh out loud at the way the sleepiness seems to disintegrate instantly, making him do the same but softer so he didn’t overpower his favorite sound too much.
his eyes trace your features, outlining them slowly to make sure they never fade in his mind.
“for you, i’d never deny it.”
a/n: this came to me quite literally out of nowhere. it hasn’t flowed like this for me in such a long time. it’s short, not well written or proofread but… I HOPE YOU LIKE!!! caleb… i won’t let them take you from ME!!!!
trying to be the wife that makes sylus cute lunches for work in the morning but the minute you try to sneak off into the kitchen, his grip on your waist is cable-like as a vise, his chin is hooked on your shoulder and half his body weight threatens to crush you.
“where are you going?”
unwilling to give up the surprise, you whisper, “nowhere.”
he scoffs. in hindsight, you could have lied better. but for now, he wins the satisfaction of keeping you pressed against him. “then you don’t have to go.”
you’ll try again. but for now, he kisses your neck and pulls you unbelievably closer. allowing the large puff of your duvet to swallow you both whole.
when he hums, you sigh. okay. lunch can wait til tomorrow.
We've had a family/murder of crows visiting our garden for years now, and this season the chicks are soooo helpless! They just stand around expectantly with their mouths open as the mom crow eats. Which is what inspired this comic! :)
sylus notices everything. his eyes are always scanning for threats and he never lets anyone get a blind spot on him.
except you. you are the only blind spot he actually enjoys.
it’s a quiet afternoon at the base, sylus is sitting on the leather sofa, a small velvet cloth in his hand. he’s carefully cleaning the sleek barrel if his gun, his sharp face focused. you creep up behind him on your tiptoes, wanting to see if you could actually scare him this time, mentally remembering all your failed attempts.
just as you reach out, sylus speaks.
“need something, sweetie?” he murmurs smoothly, not even turning around.
ugh. how does he always know!?
you pout, but don’t back down. instead, you lean over his broad shoulder and snatch the velvet cloth right out of his fingers.
sylus smiles and stops working instantly. he sets the gun down on the coffee table with a soft click. now, a slow smirk spreads across his stupid handsome face.he turns his head to look at you, red eyes gleaming with amusement.
“am i being a bad host?” sylus says, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “i didn’t realize i was ignoring you, sweetie”
“you’ve been cleaning that for an hour,” you say, holding the cloth behind your back and walking over to stand infront of him. “i think it’s clean enough.”
“mm. but nothing in my world is free,” sylus murmurs. sylus gently pulls you into his lap, holding you firmly. he reaches out with his warm and large hand and gently cups your cheek, tilting your face toward his. his thumb rubs a languid circle over your cheek, his soft touch making all your thoughts melt away.
“if you’re taking away my distraction, you have to become the new one.” he teases softly, his silver hair brushing against your forehead as he moves closer.
you blink. “what is that supposed to mean?” you ask, voice dropping to a whisper.
“it means i want to look at you instead, he whispers, his gaze full of that sweetness only meant for you. “give me a kiss, sweetie.”
your face burns hot and you smile. but you lean down and press a soft, sweet kiss to his grinning lips.
sylus lets out a low satisfied laugh the shakes his chest. he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer until your chest is flush against his. he buries his face in the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent.
“perfect,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “stay with me like this.”
hear me out: what if the littles became kittens 😸 and maybe the biggies, who knows
the babies as kittens omg sylus would be inconsolable 😭
“sweetie,”
face buried in furs. “fwhot?”
“honey. put them down, we have to fix this.”
sylus takes one, deep, long drag of the little kitten’s bellies and peppers them with a turret of kisses before cradling them to his neck. “okay.”
then, in another breath, he tells you. “they smell like marshmallows.”
“sylus,” you sigh. he’s hopeless.
your children have turned into the tiniest kittens in the entire world and are meowing at you to help them. they must be so scared, and all your husband wants to do is sniff them.
“papa will fix this, he will. yes, he will.” he coos, and the black and gray paws pit and pat at his face. even in as kittens, their utmost faith in him is unwavering.
“miw!” lucian calls for you.
you melt just a little. let the affection counteract your anxiety for a split second, and kiss your kittens’ noses. “stay calm, okay?”
“miw!” kyros sleepily, telling you this might just be the calmest hes ever felt. you’re relieved.
you’re sure that despite his seemingly current lack of worry, the babies can be in no place safer than in sylus’s arms.
Thinking about Sylus who loves a particular kind of gentle skinship: pressing his nose on your skin.
Waiting in line for your sudden milk tea craving and he’s behind you nosing into your hair (he claims it makes the waiting better)
You’re preparing some food on the counter and he’s there behind you pressing his nose on your shoulders as he watches your hands move
You just wanna feed him some fries but he’s grabbing your wrist to press his nose there then playfully nip the side of your thumb instead of the fries
When he’s in a bad mood, just holding you and pressing his nose on your chest and he’s instantly cooled down
You wear an off-shoulder top and you bet he’s gonna be perching his nose there as if he’s Mephisto
Or nuzzling into the crook of your neck when he wants a cuddle
Or catching you right after a shower and he’s running his nose down your arm and giving little pecks
Maybe it’s the feel of your skin, maybe it’s your scent he wants to inhale all the time
Maybe it’s his dragon’s way of showing affection
You’re lying down on one side relaxing and he’d playfully rub his nose on your waist to tickle you and hear you laugh
And when your scent changes he knows you’re ovulating, it’s sweeter he says, with that hungry look in his eyes, because his very favorite place to bury his nose in is—
Wait am i ovulating? (ignores my empty period tracking app, opens Lads instead to consult his notes)
you’re sitting on the floor, right next to his legs, ignoring him. instead, you have a pad of bright yellow sticky notes. you’re writing silly things on them and sticking them all over his pants.
this human belongs to me.
shiny things collector.
long leg man.
very expensive pants.
sylus dosen’t stop you. he just shifts his leg slightly so you have a flat space to write. he looks handsome– his silver hair a little messy, dark sleeves rolled up to his elbows and collar open. mephisto is perched on the arm of the sofa, watching you. the mechanical crow lets out a sharp caw and suddenly hops down, grabbing the sticky note pad with his beak.
“hey! give that back,” you yell, reaching for him.
mephisto drops the pad right into sylus’s lap, and flies up to the ceiling, clicking his beak at you in a very smug way.
“i see someone wants to start a fight,” sylus murmurs, a lazy rumble vibrating in his chest. he reaches down and peels one off his leg, reading it with a small smirk. “so, i belong to you, sweetie?”
“you know you do,” you say, leaving over his knees to reach for the pad. “now give it back, i have more notes to write.”
before you can scramble and grab it, his hand shoots out. his long fingers, wrap firmly around your waist. with one smooth, effortless lift, he pulls you straight up off the floor. then, you feel the red and black coils of his evol wrapping around you. you let out a gasp as you fly through the air, landing in his lap.
sylus’s rather massive arms wrap around your body, securing your back firmly against his broad chest. he’s so big and warm that you feel completely swallowed by him, your nose buried in the rich scent of his cologne.
“sylus!” you huff, face burning hot.
“quiet down, sweetie. you’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.” sylus says smoothly, his ruby eyes gleaming with mischief.
sylus presses a kiss to your cheek, before grabbing a pen from his pocket. he casually strikes out the ‘me’ from the sticky note and writes his name.
then, he sticks it gently right onto your forehead.
“hey!” you laugh, trying to swat his hand.
sylus catches your wrist easily, his voice dropping to a find velvety whisper. he uses his thumb to turn and tilt your chin up, making you look at him.
“there,” he teases, his thumb rubbing a warm lazy circle into your jawline. “fair is fair. now it’s official. you belong to me too. any objections?”
“you’re ridiculous,” you mumble, giving up your fight and curling closer into his chest to hide your blushing cheeks.
sylua lets out that low, satisfied laugh, the one you love so much. he tightens his arms around you, locking you into his warmth so thoroughly you can’t move.
“good,” he whispers, leaning down to press a sweet, lingering kiss right over the sticky note on your forehead. “then you’re staying right here. don’t move.”
“my— my mama works good. good job.” kyros breathes into the tiny microphone Mr. Raf handed to him.
big, thoughtful eyes blink at the camera awaiting the next prompt while his teacher tries to clarify. “no, yes. sure. but what is she doing a good job on?”
kyros opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure. after sorting through a few thoughts, he presses his lips to the mic again and says, “good job on… uh, work.”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“mama fights.” lucian chews his words, speakers popping at his loud voice. “mama go hurt things.”
“hurt?”
“yes. and do good job.” lucian nods, also staring at the camera. as if to challenge anyone who thinks otherwise.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“hi, i’m lucian and kyros’s mom, and i am a Hunter for The Hunter’s Association.” you say, a little bashful at the answers they provided. “I—I hunt, not hurt. Well, I also hurt, but—but wanderers! Not people. Or— well— Rafayel, stop recording!”
“what do you think your dad does at work?”
“beez-nez.” kyros struggles to wrap his tongue around the word but relays enough to understand.
“like… stocks?”
“ya, he wear socks.”
“like what kind of business, kyros?”
poor kyros looks like his brain blast will injure him. but in a snap of memory he has heard his father sneer at people on the phone, he exclaims. “ah! none!”
“huh?”
“none-your-beez-nez!” he claps happily for remembering. “i do good job!”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“phone— and, and trinkies— and! like, drinks.” lucian lists, twisting his shirt around his hands and swinging side to side.
“does he own a bar?”
he lifts the front of his shirt randomly over his face. “bar? what dat?” Rafayel panics to pull it back down.
when lucian’s face emerges, he says, “papa has a gun.”
“what—“
Mr. Raf has never met the guy, but now he worries what these kids have to witness at home. their father, skye, will be coming to pick them up later, and so he braces for the worst.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
“I’m lucian and kyros’s papa.” sylus states, deadpan into the camera in his three piece tailored armani, but radiating with pride at the statement. “and I sell fruits.”
Rafayel falters with the camera and shoots the little ones a look over his shoulder, tired. they blink up at him with identical, thoughtless red orbs that matches their strange father’s and wave.
Thomas lied. Ooh, kindergarten is an easy, fun, break-from-your-routine, might-inspire-you-to-paint kinda gig— not.
He makes that known, later that day. Loud and clear.
“Thomas, what the hell do you think I do for work?”
I find it funny that when this dropped, I was like, “Oh!” because I had the same idea for all the LIs in the “When You Turn Into a Small Animal” scenario (cat/dog being my second consideration) in my draft 😹 Thank you, Infold, for giving me source material to work with, very inspiring. 😹
what is the little twins reaction at their mama turning into a cat😱
sylus x reader | sylus & his family | dad!sylus, turnedintoacat!mama!reader, very excited kyros & lucian
you dont remember climbing into kyros’s bed, but you take the opportunity to curl yourself closer to him and bury your nose in his hair.
his scent is particularly stronger, for some reason, and for another you get the urge to not make that so. so with sleepy, meticulous kisses—or so you think— you try and clean him.
strangely and blissfully unaware of the manifestation.
his hair sticks up with each kiss and his hands come around to push your face away. “owie.”
you frown. since when has he rejected your kisses? or think they were painful?
you chirp—
wait.
his eyes open at the noise. deep red irises light up like sparklers at the sight of you as he reaches and takes you in his arms. “woah!”
you blink. once. twice. how is he able to engulf you like this?
“woosian.” he whisper-shouts towards the racecar bed beside his circular-nest one. “woosi-yan!”
“kee-ro, quiet.” lucian whines, turning away from his brother’s voice and covering his head with his blanket.
you feel yourself being lifted up with arms wrapped tightly under your armpits. it takes a handful of effort for kyros to move gently and climb onto lucian’s bed.
but when he does, he pets your head and plops you down on his brother’s shoulder. breathing out, “tat.”
you blink. oh. not again.
reminded of the time this happened once before, you do not worry for being this way indefinitely. so, you decide in that breath to ride it out with a little bit more grace this time.
with a deep sigh, you make your way to lucian’s side and lick the tip of his nose.
you wish you could capture this somehow— the details of when they open their eyes to the sunlight in your feline vision. each lash so perfectly curated, each freckle in their irises wonderfully placed, the overjoyed expression that paints their features when a kitten wakes them.
“a cat!” lucian squeals, taking you with him again when he sits upright. you giggle in your mind, the purrs let them know you are.
you’ll commend them later with how gently they care for you.
kyros’s warm palm stays on your head, petting as he is talking to you about being part of the family. asking for permission to hug you which you respond to with slow blinks and head butts to his soft belly.
lucian excitedly crawls in circles around you, careful not to hit you, while yapping about how many tricks you’ll be able to do— with live demonstrations of said tricks. you so kindly demonstrate them back to him, and his face of triumph is one you've never seen before.
your heart warms, despite being in this predicament, not once have you yet worried about needing to turn back.
on this rare morning, when your little ones are fawning over you and showing you the fruits of your love for them, you take this curse as a blessing.
but that smell.
it’s not bad, just strong and warm and creeping. the smell of a living body— of milk, blueberries and a simmering smoke beneath. a strange variation of… sylus.
a scent too strong that you must wipe them clean of or else something else will smell them, then your little ones would be in grave danger. your pupils shrink to slits and your hackles rise at the thought. kyros murmurs a confused, "huh?"
hopping up on your hind legs makes him coo, but your singular purpose is to get to his cheeks. a few licks will balance them out, smooth it out and refine it— balance it with you, and make it smell like home.
"boys, have you seen your mother?"
you’re in the middle of licking lucian’s forehead when sylus walks into their bedroom. he stares at his children, hair mussed in different directions, and they stare right back at him.
"papa!" kyros smiles, scrambling off the sheets to crash into sylus's knees. he is caught just in time before any teeth are knocked out, and lifted into a sturdy embrace.
lucian tilts his head closer to you when you bap his forehead with your mitten. you start licking at another spot on his head. "papa, a cat came in."
"it looks like it." he chuckles, recognizing the dragon li that has begun scenting his children as none other than his wife. it's happened before, anyway, what he didn't expect is that it would happen again.
he reaches out to squeeze lucian's cheek good morning, but your paw swats his hand away.
the silence is heavy.
he scoffs at you, appalled. "are you keeping him from me?"
you hiss, ears flat back and petulant. the answer, horrifyingly, a yes.
you try to chirp at kyros, redirect him back to you because— ugh, he just undid all the work you did and now he smells even more like his father and even less like you. luckily, he is obedient and wriggles out of his papa's grasp at your command, much to sylus's displeasure.
"hey!" sylus harrumphs, watching as kyros sidles up next to you and lucian. his brood, now within your litter.
"papa no hurt you." kyros supplies helpfully. "he big, but he no hurt."
sylus softens at his children's words. to you, he says, "see, kitten? i'm harmless."
"her name miss waffle-cake, papa," whispers kyros, offended for you. you meow in protest at the dubbed name, knowing how sylus will use it against you later on, but kyros holds you close now and sniffs you. "she smell sweet!"
"oh?" sylus grins, sinister and mischievous. "may i?"
he's fast when he takes you from kyros. the height you travel up to is sickening with the speed, it makes you squirm and cry in protest. soon you're face-to-face with your husband, eyes gleaming, and smirk treacherous.
his nose is in your belly in an instant. it tickles. you do not know whether to scream or laugh.
your meows are incomprehensible, and your limbs flail about against your control. in your head, you are screaming for your life.
"stop!" is yelled from below you, your own kittens now pawing at sylus's legs in outrage. "stop, she don'ike it!"
sylus breathes a chuckle as he cradles you to his chest. your sheathed claws tap at his cheek in mock pride, saying, yes! listen to your sons!
"papa, be nice!" squeaks lucian, seeming most affected by your distressed sounds. "she little!"
"give me!" demands kyros, hands outstretched upwards. waiting for your return in his protection.
sylus laughs at your smug expression, surprised a cat can even have such a prominent one, and promptly hands you back to kyros.
"sorry." kyros kisses your forehead softly, and you melt in his embrace. "papa silly sometime."
lucian comes to scratch your chin and bump his forehead against yours. angrily muttering under his breath, "big lizard."
your purrs get louder as your laughter turns hysterical in your brain.
oh, your sweet boys.
"okay, i'm sorry." sylus sinks down to the floor to kneel on his legs and bows his head. "i got... excited."
lucian is the one who shifts his body to be the barrier between him and you. "papa... like cats?"
sylus chuckles at the accusation. "i love cats. especially waffle-cake." he nods towards you. despite yourself, you tilt your head shyly.
"miss waffle-cake." kyros sneers. he did come up with the name, after all.
sylus raises his palms regretfully. "miss waffle-cake."
oh he's loving this. you snuff a breath at him through your little pink nose.
sylus pleads with his family now, eyes big and unguarded. begging to be included in the fun. "i promise to be gentle."
the twins look to one another. it wasn't like their papa to lie to them. he messes with them, regularly, sure, but he isn't mean, they think. lucian is the first to nod, and so kyros announces the ruling that papa can now be part of the i-love-miss-waffle-cake-club.
grateful, he squeezes himself onto lucian's bed and takes all three of you in the crisscross of his legs. bending close to your snout for a little nuzzle as he whispers, "just say when."
knowing that the last time this happened, turning back involved lips and true love.
you rub your cheek against his chin in acknowledgement.
the morning is spent indulging your family on their simple joys.
you'd become one of the world's greatest marvels, existing being your greatest feat to your children.
your quick zoomies around the room are exhilarating, especially with two little boys trying to catch you.
you sniff them until their stomachs hurt from laughing.
you teach them to make biscuits on papa, starting your own little bakery on his bottom.
even your instinctive licking (because they're starting to smell like sylus again) is so inexplicably beautiful to them, they just sit there and let it happen.
and naturally, under the warmth of the morning light, once curious eyes waver behind heavy lids. your own yawn from your place on sylus's chest, underneath his shirt, seems to trigger everyone else's.
positions are established like nature, and soon you're squeezed up against two little ones who've decided they want to be kittens in papa's shirt too.
but before they drift away, kyros takes your paw in his hand and lucian kisses your head and murmurs. "wish mama was here."
melting your heart into oblivion.
"having fun?" sylus inquires once lucian has followed his brother into a dream later on. you've crawled out of his shirt and perched yourself on his shoulder, curling around your babies as best you can.
you chirp at him, yes. and slowly blink at your sons.
"ready?" he asks softly, but it sounds like another request entirely.
the slight pucker of his lips is cute, showing a little more than he let on— if you knew how to look for it. an expert in reading your husband, you read him clear as day: he misses you.
so you lean in, but instinct trumps logic and your paws press against his lips. "mrph!"
"what?" he wonders. you're getting up and climbing on his head now. he feels the sharpened bristles of your tongue move his unstyled hair in all directions, doing more harm than good if your intention was to groom him.
he lets you finish the job, just as obedient as his sons, until you give him the kiss he's been waiting for.
when your feline eyes turn from large and crystaline to the ones he fell in love with, he smiles. "kitten."
meanwhile, your hands slide up to the back of his head to tug him down. his hair—now perfectly balanced in scent thanks to you— is askew, but you make no effort in fixing anything else.
you take a whiff and sigh in relief. "much better."
"because... you're not a cat anymore?" sylus inquires. unaware of the still fading inner workings of a feline's mind.
"sure," you shrug, kissing his cheek. then you turn to your sleeping babies on his chest and soften. "but that was good too."
“a’mama?” lucian murmurs, peeking his head into the dark bedroom. you see the glow of his eyes, moonlight bouncing off his pretty red jewels just right to make them shine.
you don’t respond, in fear of scaring him. he doesn’t need to see his mother this way— sniffling and hiding like a wounded animal. what a terrifying sight for such a little cub.
“mama?” his whispers get a little louder. you shift in your blankets and quiet your sobs. “mama, is me, woosi.”
your lungs can only hold so much air after the trauma its endured. bad days at work don’t only involve irritation and disagreement, but harsh beatings from other worldly beings too. wanderers getting one too many hits in, sluggish responses to too quick offenses lead to more painful clock outs.
today was not a good day. days like this weren’t uncommon, but it still twists your heart knowing you could have done better. could have been stronger or faster or smarter. days like this just always sent you into a spiral of not doing enough. of not being enough.
and lucian did not need to see this.
but lucian says, “mama.” louder now. just by the edge or the bed. “hello?”
“lucian.” you finally respond, voice raspy and raw. “go to papa.”
he frowns and weighs a thought. “don’want papa. want you, mama.”
“mama, eated?” he asks, glad to know now that you are awake. “mama, i get—i get nana? for you?”
“i’m okay, my angel.” you grumble, hiccuping back the cries that are triggered from his clueless compassion. “i’m not hungry.”
“mama sick?” lucian’s voice tilts into something somber and sad. now he tries to grip the duvet and climb the mattress to you. your heart beats like thunder.
“no, lucian—“
he makes his way up the slope, practiced and proficient, and crawls all the way over to you.
biting your lip enough to draw blood, you hide your face in the pillow, only allowing one eye to sight him. “lucian, listen to mama. go to papa.”
“no,” he plants himself firmly on the pillow beside your head and pats your clammy forehead. “mama sicky, need medicine.”
you catch his small fingers in your hand and hold it on his lap. “not sick, honey. i’m okay.”
he’s quiet for a while. the thought too profound to know why, he doesn’t seem to believe you. so he guesses again. “mama, bad day?”
your sinuses burn. softly, you ask. “what?”
“bad days no good.” he says. his voice of sympathy sounding all too familiar. he slides himself under the covers and squeezes himself in the space between your chest and the pillows. “bad days make woosi cry. is mama cry?”
there are weights on the corners of your lips, and smoke behind your eyes. the moonlight, once again, strikes his features so elegantly you’d think heaven sent a real angel for such a feeble soul. fresh air to your fumes. a gentle whisper to your silent tantrum.
the next sharp inhale you cannot hide, and in its trembling exhale lucian’s question is answered.
“i’m sorry, mama’s just…” you can’t explain. a bad day is true, but somehow it is not enough to encompass it all. and in his humble persistence, it feels like he deserves to know nothing short of that.
his hand, smelling of blueberries and milk, comes up to caress your hair. and his cheek falls onto the pillow before your one peeking eye. “s’okay, mama.”
“mama’s just very tired.” you whisper, turning your face to him. “and being tired makes me sad.”
“sad okay.” he says, wise beyond his years. you don’t have the time to wonder how. “sad now-mal like happy. sad is—is opposite!
“sad im…im-pow-tant too.”
he sounds so proud of himself for remembering. your fingers curl around his again and you kiss his palm. “yes, you’re right.” you take a breath. “mama is sorry for crying.”
“papa say no sorry for cryin.” lucian whispers to you like a secret. “papa say cryin is good, and cryin okay. helping— helping, uh, sad go out body.”
you smile. “he said that?”
“a-huh,” he snuggles closer. “and huggies help too.”
finally, like a bloom in spring, you uncurl yourself from your ball and wind your arms around the little body that has come to save you. “okay. let’s test that.”
his bell-like giggles are almost enough to flip your mood entirely when he is tickled by your closeness. never mind the ache in your ribs or the twinge in your neck; this pain is outmatched by the weight of your loving boy in your arms.
“yay,” he murmurs quietly when your sobs turn to small giggles. “i helping.”
you sigh, deep and freeing. “you are, my angel. i needed this, thank you.”
he shuts his eyes, and takes in a breath. “and woosi needy mama.”
the world shifts. tilts back from its skewed axis into its rightful place. all thanks to a child, so strong to have lifted the weight of it, to remind you that you will always be enough.
i’m just curious but obviously sylus is like your top li (i’m assuming) but are any of the other li’s like a secret fav of yours ? or does sylus just greatly top them all on your list LOL
HAHENDKSNSN i love sylus sm i fear he’s the one & only resident on my home page 🥹
but when i started playing, zayne definitely tugged on my heartstrings the most. i love the dawnbreaker story, and the fact that he learned to be a cardiac surgeon bc of her heart condition made me swooon whatt and the moments of him just getting all soft and mushy and shy (AND DRUNK LMAO I LOVE DRUNK ZAYNE) just gets my heart going
and then caleb came along & his teasing i’ve-known-you-for-all-my-life-energy is just so charming. he’s always a favorite when it comes to messages & smaus! 😋
xavier is my cozy bee. his cards always make my heart flutter & just make me so happy. the yes cat caretaker card i think was my first 5 star of him and it rlly opened my eyes go just how 😏😏 he is
raf is like me 😭 i love him, he’s so fun to interact with— absolutely enjoy his va’s performances & dialogue, but as a Pisces we r just two fishies swimming around each other. he’s my good-vibes character & i play his cards when i need a boost. OH and i love him for combat. “Come, my shark is hungry~” OKAY KING
you invited sylus as a plus one to your friend’s wedding, and sylus, finding it as an opportunity to be presented as your arm candy, accepted it without further hesitation.
the wedding was beautiful. sylus hands you a handkerchief while you teared up witnessing your friend recite her vows, feeling emotional as you can hear the raw emotion of love seep into her words.
you loved love, and you loved seeing your friends experience love with their partners, you knew they deserved.
the reception came, it was no less beautiful than the wedding, and sylus could already see the way your gaze fixates on the decor, how your eyes linger on the color palettes and tableware.
he didn’t need his aether core to know that you were already imagining your own wedding.
in the middle of the reception, you stood up as the women in the venue gathered in the middle, the bride turning her back on the crowd as the gentleman watched from the sidelines.
it was time for the infamous bouquet toss.
sylus stands to the side, a relaxed smile on his face as he watches you stand by the side, not really drawing much attention to yourself.
you were giggling with the other guests and bridesmaids, pointing playfully at each other, as if predicting who was most likely to get the bouquet.
a countdown was held. the bride tossed it behind her shoulder, you and the crowd jumped to reach out for the bouquet.
only for the bouquet to awkwardly dangle on the chandelier as it got stuck.
sylus sees as you immediately step to the side, letting the guests jump and grab at the bouquet that was hanging by the ribbon.
you met sylus’ eye, and smiled.
you gave him a shrug; you were not about to fight over a bouquet. your pride wouldn’t let you.
sylus, however had another idea.
he places the wine glass he sported on the table behind him before he casually walks to where you stood.
a yelp escapes your lips. you find your butt resting on sylus’s shoulder as he hoists you up, giving you a needed height boost.
the women were left shocked as he walked towards the chandelier, you immediately got the hint as you reached for the dangling bouquet with no difficulty.
he smirks, setting you down, planting a kiss on your temple before he steps back to where the other men watched with their jaws dropped. you couldn’t help the flustered giggle that leaves your lips as the women swarm over you, slapping your arm playfully while they whisper about your boyfriend.
turns out, you weren’t the only one imagining a wedding in your head. truthfully, sylus was already planning to propose whether or not you won the bouquet toss.
though, getting the blessing of tradition was definitely a welcomed plus.
inspired by that one tiktok i saw that went exactly like this <3 (just the reception bit)
