LIs react when you say their name, but not the one you usually call them by. (They love it. SO much.)
Genre: Fluff, TW: suggestiveness
(Note: HC all the LADS men are at least bilingual/trilingual for work purposes or just bc they've lived long enough)
SYLUS
The rain hits the glass panels like a scatter of beads, the curtains of dense raindrops draping over the N109 zone late at night.
Seeing that it is a slow night for Sylus, you decide to try your idea out.
His glass of whiskey pauses halfway to his lips when you pronounce "Qín Chè" with perfect inflection.
The ice cubes clink as he slowly sets it down.
"Now that," he purrs, rising from his chair with a predatory grace, "is a dangerous thing to know."
In your next breath, he appears in a cloud of black-red mist, leaning down to you with a hand in his pocket.
"Did you research me that thoroughly? Or..." His breath ghosts your ear, "have you been hiding secrets?"
When you admit to practicing, he chuckles. "Even more dangerous. Now I'll have to teach you all the ways I want to hear my name...in private."
And so you learn, saying his name like a prayer while his lips graze over your neck and his arms keep you pressed close to him. Soon, your attempts are swallowed by his hungry kisses, and lost between stuttered breaths.
The next night, he makes you do it all over again.
_____
XAVIER
The way back home is quiet, crowds dwindling quickly after dinner hours in the dreary weather. It's still drizzling, but you're under a covered walkway for this stretch of the walk.
There's a comfortable silence between you and Xavier, and you decide to test something out.
"Shěn Xīnghuí," you say softly, watching the light reflect in his widened eyes like stars.
"You...know." The way he says it makes you realize this isn't just about language- you've spoken a name he thought he'd never hear you say in this lifetime.
He takes both your hands, holding them delicately as he moves closer to you. "Say it again," he whispers.
You repeat his name, louder this time. The night suddenly feels sacred as the syllables hang between you.
He doesn't speak, only brushes his thumb lightly over your knuckles as he looks at you the way a stargazer would observe a meteor shower.
Then you feel the slightest squeeze on your hands.
“Let's head back quickly,” he says, moving to keep a hand on your waist on the way home. He turns to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Now that I know you can say my name this way… I won't let you stop at just saying it twice.”
_____
ZAYNE
When you pass by the reception desk at the cardiology ward, You wave to the nurses on your way in and greet Zayne in a sing-song voice.
It's a phrase you practiced, over and over in front of a mirror.
“Lí Shēn, I'm here~ I'll just leave your lunchbox on the table,”
His gaze snaps to you.
The receptionist nurse freezes as their usually unflappable chief surgeon stares at you like you've grown a second head.
"...That pronunciation is very precise," he finally says, clicking his pen shut and taking some charts from the shelf.
Later, in his office, he has you trapped against the table. He's careful not to make noise, his steps slow and deliberate until the back of your legs are pressed up against the cool wooden surface.
"Who taught you that?" He asks quietly.
You blink. He seems almost too calm- like he's trying hard not to let something irritate him. Something is simmering in his gaze, but it's one of those times where you can't quite place your finger on what it is.
“Well- I remember knowing you had a different name, but I just never actually asked you about it even after all this time-” You explain, “It came up when I went over the university alumnae list-”
“Are you a personal investigator now?” He says, inching even closer to you.
“I was just… sorry, I shouldn't have called you by another name in the hospital,”
He exhales, the hint of a smile gracing his sharp features. “No- don't apologize, my love. I have no reason to be unhappy-” When he wraps his arms around you, the tension in your cautious stance melts into familiar warmth.
The slightly coarse fabric of his doctor's coat rubs against your face, but you snuggle closer.
“-However,” he continues, voice low, “My private investigator, I can't let you leave just yet.”
He keeps you locked in place with a hand around your waist. “I have five minutes until my ward round. If you're ever going to say my name like that again..." His lips brush yours, "you'll do it where I can properly appreciate it."
_____
RAFAYEL
The name you learned isn't Lemurian- it's something you came across in a luxury-lifestyle magazine interview done years ago that lay forgotten inside one of his storage crates. You had gone to your friend and asked them to help with the pronunciation, and practiced till you could say it naturally within conversations.
"Qí Yù! Is this a new piece of artwork?" You call across the studio.
"Yeah it- WHAT DID YOU JUST-?!" He leaps over the couch.
"Say that again," he demands, gripping your shoulders.
When you repeat it with a grin, he gasps.
"You've been holding out on me! Oh, you say my name so wonderfully," He gushes with a smile so dazzling it would put the glittering sunset ocean to shame.
"Wait." He squints. "Did Thomas teach you? I'LL KILL HIM-"
You have to physically restrain him from storming off, and his arm almost slips between your grip.
“Rafayel! No, it's just me- I read in an old interview that you had a different name and-”
“So you've been reading about me- when you can just ask me anything?” He pouts.
You blink. “How would I even begin to know you have different names?”
He puts his hands on his hips, seemingly acknowledging an impasse.
Then he sighs and opens his arms wide. “Come here, cutie,”
His scent envelopes you as you sink into his embrace, and he rubs circles into your back.
His voice is lower when he speaks, “I will take a break now- I need some inspiration from you.”
_____
CALEB
It's rare that you ever tag along to Caleb's gym sessions. Aside from schedules never aligning, you always knew his workout routine was rigorous and intense, so you wouldn't want to distract him.
Apart from that, he is also a huge source of distraction to you.
Right now, he's doing shoulder presses while seated on the gym bench, looking absolutely distracting. The stair master machine faces the mirror, giving you a clear view of him.
There's no way you can complete your usual routine, so you approach him.
Time to call it a day at the gym.
"Xià Yǐzhòu," you call out.
His dumbbells wobble mid-air.
"Holy-" He braces himself and rights his grip, bringing the dumbbells back down to rest them on his knees.
When he looks up, his expression does something complicated. "...Haven't heard that in a while," he murmurs, placing the dumbbells on the floor and rubbing his neck.
There's a vulnerability in his eyes you rarely see. “What happened to ‘Caleb’?” he asks.
When you explain your practice sessions, his boyish grin returns.
"Well damn, pips."
He tackles you into a hug that nearly has you topple over- but he catches you. With the way he's looking at you now, you're glad the gym is quiet. Even after being with him, he never fails to get your pulse soaring with his stupid, rugged charm.
“Ew, Caleb your sweat-”
“I don't recall you having a problem with that last night,” he murmurs, holding you closer.
“Caleb, I swear-” You jab at his sides with your fingers, scrambling to find an excuse to get him to stop teasing, “I'm sweaty too, it's gross.”
It almost works. He squirms, but his grip doesn't loosen in the slightest.
“Xià Yǐzhòu-”
He hums contentedly, patting your hair to placate you, "Thaaaat's more like it. Now gotta hear that every morning."
His whisper turns teasing, "And every night. Especially when you're begging me to-" You clap a hand over his mouth.
“Caleb!”
He kisses your palm, then gently takes your hand from his face.
“Call me the other name again and I'll let you go,”
_____
Edit: (note: their chinese names are so beautiful and poetic and suits their characterisation/personalities so well I cant even begin to describe how much I love ! !! And especially the exact words/characters chosen for their names too where my multilingual stans at!!! OK incoherent vent over thank u all for reading <3)
*Taps mic* // fiend!sylus would be very good at cooking iron-rich food for you because he doesn't want you to he anemic from being his meal blood donor
Steak? Perfectly cooked. Veggies? Fruits for vitamin C to enhance iron absorption? Yes.
His wife agenda will not stop and this is his perfect chance to prove it
Anything for his wife and anything for him to feel your warm, healthy pulse against his lips
This banner is so cute. Just another reimagining of this scenario. Kinda makes sense to be in your birthday suit tho if you transform from a cat then back to being a human 😂
Aaahahhshs its my birthday today 🤭🤭🤭💓💓💓 omg the contrast between the last year birthday art amd this one is insane last year was kinda suggestive tbh was kinda dark but this year its so springy and light and it feel like a romance kdrama from 2016 but I also was listening to all gfriend old songs while rendering 💓💓and tbh i was born in the spring so its only fair (tho its still very cold here)
I wish I could make yall look at the art while the song is in background like u just met ur destined love but maybe in future I could just pop up in ur room with the art and make u loom at it while I sing in th background lmao😭😭😭😭
Happy Aprilus, everyone! This comic has been in draft since last year! it's inspired by his birthday story back then but I only just had time to finish it 😂 So I posting it this year instead 😂
Happy new year!! May you pull all the 5* memories with the least gems spent, may you find the fics with content you've wanted to read, may you write the fics with plots you've wanted to see, and build the dream house with your fave <333
Sometimes i forget sylus is big bad boss man bc of his whole wife agenda but then im pleasantly surprised when i get reminded of how he's like outside of a romantic relationship
Summary: How the LADS LIs would interact with you in the Throne of Eros timeline (life gets tough when you have very hot men who can be your arch nemesis but also your lover. But if you choose wisely- why can't they be both?)
Cw: kissing (sylus), biting (xav), some hurt/comfort (zayne), more kissing (raf), (caleb wants to kiss but he doesn't yet)
Notes: finally got the chance to write again after eons 🫶
SYLUS
The fleet of spaceships hover nearby, awaiting his command. The Sovereign stands, tall and regal, red eyes scanning the sky for danger.
“You've held them off for long enough, my love,” he says, obliterating an incoming shard of scrap metal with a flick of his wrist before pulling you under a small canopy.
Adrenaline tears out a bark of laughter from you. “Your love? What a time for theatrics,”
For a second, he watches you, his eyes carrying a solemn depth that has your grin slipping away.
“You are my betrothed,” he says simply, his arm tightening around your waist when a shower of debris lands near you. “and I will treat you as such,”
You don't turn away when he cups your face with his gloved hand.
“I'm here to claim what's mine- if you'll let me,” he murmurs, eyes flickering to your lips.
You nod, and the way his lips touch yours with fiery intensity telling of devotion that has nothing to do with politics.
-----
ZAYNE
His betrayal is far worse than you'd ever imagined- not doing anything against you, but rather, putting a bet on his life.
“You can't do this, Zayne,” you say through gritted teeth, your voice shaking.
“It's been done,” he says, calm, controlled. Not a shred of emotion.
Your vision almost swims with the hum of adrenaline rushing through your veins, bringing with it a mix of rage and fear that fills your chest with its choking grip.
You lunge at him, but he catches you easily, his grip efficient but gentle as he maneuvers you into his arms, a mimic of an embrace that has your heart clenching painfully.
“Zayne, please-” you say, your voice shaking. “It's not too late, it really isn't-”
“It's not wise to bargain with a traitor,” he advises.
“Stop calling yourself that!” You hiss, your fist connecting with weakly his chest as hot tears well up. “I wish… I wish you'd done pawned the empire off to the Federation, allied yourself with Khaosi Sovereign-”
Anything but this.
You're shaking with anger and fear all at once, and the way he runs his fingers through your hair makes it worse..
“Ensuring your safety is my priority,”
“My safety means nothing without you, Zayne.” Your voice trembles as you bite back a sob.
He brushes a tear away on your cheeks, then presses a soft kiss onto the spot- a silent confession and promise.
-----
XAVIER
“You could be handing your entire nation to me,” he says, voice light as if he were commenting on the night sky.
“And?”
“How are you so sure I wouldn't hurt you?” He asks, turning to cage you against the handrails.
You know he wouldn't. He's had every chance to end the current dynasty, but he hasn't lifted a finger against you your entire life.
You meet his gaze evenly. “I can defend myself,”
He hums, brushing his lips against your jaw as his hand slides up your back, tightening at the nape of your neck. “You know, the old dynasty had an art of breaking someone with tenderness-”
You see a chance and take it- biting him on his neck, just below his ear.
He stiffens, but his grip on you only gets tighter.
“Tenderness is not my forte,” you tell him.
He smirks, eyes ablaze with something dark.
“I see,” he murmurs, voice low and his lips only a breath from yours. “If that's what you prefer… let me return the favour.”
His lips seal onto the side of your neck, and soon after you register the heat of his mouth, a dull, addictive pain blooms. Your fingers thread into his platinum hair and pull- but he sucks harder on your skin.
“Xavier-”
He lets go.
“If you say my name like that, your highness… I might think you're enjoying it,”
You find yourself looking away. “Have I said otherwise?”
“In that case,” he says, just before he leans in once more.
------
RAFAYEL
It was meant to be simple- to put an end to the Sanctide, starting by getting rid of the Santarch himself.
“So what would it be, hm?” He asks, eyes glittering with challenge.
He presses your shoulders against the stone slab, and your blade lies on the grass behind him, just beyond your reach.
You'd almost succeeded, but only because he allowed you to do as you wish until the very last moment.
He is as powerful as he is mesmerizing, and you know as hard as you try, it is unlikely for you to overpower him.
“You know what I'm here for,” you tell him.
“My dear monarch,” he says with a sigh, his grip loosening. “The Sanctide's followers will not do anything to threaten your power. Your court is mistaken."
“How can I believe it when there are clear signs-”
“Ah. Signs,” He steps closer, leaning in. “Can I show you the reason they will never rise against you?”
You blink, then nod- and he closes the distance between you two.
He kisses you with a tenderness so unexpected that your pulse stutters and your knees buckle. He catches you before you fall.
When he pulls away, his eyes are soft. “That's why.”
-----
CALEB
“Are you aware how difficult this is for me?” you ask, white-knuckled as you grip your sword.
You offered a truce, a royal pardon in exchange for his power.
Yet his answer has you reeling from shock. A painfully reckless confession- All he's ever wanted is you, and you only. Power is simply his tool to achieve his goal.
He smiles, sharp and cold.
“I'm touched, you came all the way here to find me.” He circles you slowly. “But I'm surprised you'd come alone into enemy grounds to bargain.”
“This is already the empire's territory. Hurting me hurts your chances of survival, Caleb.”
The corner of his lips lifts in a smirk as he tugs you into his arms. “There are too many ways to use a bargaining chip,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “Surrounded, defenseless… right where I want you.”
His hands splay against your back, holding you in place. "My fleet are extensions of my will. Give me my pardon, and I will let you and your empire have it. But you," his lips brush your cheek, "will be mine. That's my only term.”