Pursuit of Jade 逐玉 (2026) dir. Zeng Qing Jie ; episode 17
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@msfely
Pursuit of Jade 逐玉 (2026) dir. Zeng Qing Jie ; episode 17
Come Home.
From @hajimeowmeow's prompt where Caleb receives a message threatening to hurt the person he loves the most, yet instead of staying with you, his girlfriend, he thinks mc is in danger and stays with her in linkon for weeks on end. He comes back but you're not the same-- more eerie, as a parasite takes over your brain.
nooooot proofread, just wrote this literally now hahah bc i am in my sad girl hours and i need smthng to hurt me.
warnings? tragic love, caleb being sad, pathetic, and begging; doomed love. also K by CAS, is the perfect song wrote this with CAS playlist :p
@youre-my-headliner @mia-menaceinaction
-----
There is the dim, yet warm light of a single lamp open in the living room; the TV is buzzing, words of characters that you’re only barely paying attention to anymore. A sitcom you really like rewatching. It was raining a little, so you look at your phone. A message you sent 2 hours ago, still left on delivered.
so sylus myth amiright
“i only know that i feel tired, antiqued; i feel as though i’ve been awake for a long long time”
HOMESICK
synopsis: when the exhaustion of loving finally takes you.
tags: xavier x non!mc, ANGST!!! hurt/ comfort(?)
word count: 4.4k
likes + comments + reblogs appreciated
authors note: xavier’s version of this. let me know if you want versions of the other Lis. also please give me some ideas!!! divider by: @fairytopea
ACT I: VIGIL
Laughter has never been so suffocating.
You watch, not from a distance, but next to MC.
You think it's worse to be this close and to hear everything you're hearing now. In all the years of trials and tribulations of knowing Xavier, have you ever heard him laugh so brightly, smile so widely, or love so loudly?
The quiet, ever aloof prince of Philos—the man you followed, crossing stars, passing meteors, abandoning the place you once called home—beams brighter than his evil.
You think about all the things that built up to this moment.
To you, he was the stars: bright and all-encompassing. His silence—always silent—ever consuming, as you trailed in the shadow he left behind. Throughout the years of companionship and camaraderie, you followed blindly, as you always do, even when you knew what following him meant: an ill-fated destiny you could never rewrite.
You knew MC once before—the same woman who took the world by storm, a hurricane in his life that devoured him whole, leaving nothing for you behind.
Just like the MC you once knew, this MC is just as captivating.
The universe is playing a sick joke. He is your longest companion, the very last of your kind—the last light of your planet, your world, your culture. You left it all behind because, to you, loving him meant more than the comfort of your people and the safety of your planet. Loving him was worth leaving everything behind.
Ironically enough, he thought the same thing.
And despite it all—the friendship, the companionship, the camaraderie—you’re not even a placeholder for the love he holds dear. Nothing but white noise that followed him around, that clung to him at every turn.
A persistent, pathetic, piteous echo.
You are so close, and yet, so far.
Pulled in by the gravity of his very being. You think—thought—that all this time, just being beside him would be enough to soothe the dull ache of your heart, the perpetual pain that roamed your bones, and the exhaustion that swallowed you whole.
Like a dreamer, you think of the ways he could love you in the same capacity he loves her. That if you show up enough times, reach out and fill the silence he leaves behind; that the days of dedicated devotion, the sacrifices made along the way, would surmise to something worthy of being loved.
Worthy of being seen.
You’re left stranded in his orbit, gravity pulling harder the more you think you’ve got a handle on your thoughts. The pain, the agony, the suffering. Thinking that sticking by his side was all you ever needed, that you can’t be greedy—because having him was enough, and having him be yours was pure insanity.
You hear the laughter erupt once again, likely from a silly joke MC made. You pull yourself out from whatever hole you've dug, pull your lips into a smile the best you can, laughing along. It's hearty and very becoming of your character, you think, since MC wraps a secure arm around yours and squeezes with affection.
You allow her, of course—straining your cheeks until they burn, letting out a long-drawn sigh that fills the room.
Despite what others may think, as you converse along luridly, as if the volume of your voice could hide the heavy heart you bear, you've never been so quiet.
…
ACT II: DREAM
You once thought that the convenience of being neighbours was a good thing.
Next door to Xavier—close to him, but never next to him.
Walking to the Hunters Association together, coming home together, eating together. Just being together.
But you could tell Xavier wasn’t ever there—not really.
Despite being with him for so long, his mind was usually elsewhere. Sometimes in dreamland, but mostly—actually, always—drifting to her.
At some point, in between the solo bickering and one-woman conversations, you, too, found yourself wandering.
Like your mind sanctioned itself in your own self-made isolation.
Quieter. Smaller. Dimmer.
You stop talking as vividly—maintaining just enough energy to keep up appearances. Your voice, so used to fading into the background, remained where it was so oftentimes pushed towards—away from everything. Everyone.
You stop tagging along in the mornings, early days, and late nights, save for the obligatory lunch with your co-workers.
You stop leaving your apartment, taking refuge in a bed you’ve grooved your body into, like a coffin awaiting your arrival. An apartment you’ve grown used to, replicating the only home you knew.
And you’re just so tired. Tired of it all. Exhaustion clings to you like chasing breath. Sleep evades you like the plague.
It was your choice to cling to hope—to leave your home and to follow, naively, in hopes that one day, he would look at you the same way you look at him. To experience his love: the soft edges, the warmth, the gentleness. To think quiet, everlasting devotion would get you anywhere—devotion that controlled you, consumed you. Devotion that you thought would be enough, as silly as it sounds, to at least hold a candle next to the sun.
Devotion that instead puts you in the hands of despair.
You’re stupid to still hope, to yearn for a love that was never yours to have. To attempt to go against fate—against an entire lifetime of love.
So really, it was your burden to bear—and bear it alone.
And the funniest thing of it all? Xavier never once visited you. Checked on you. Sought you out. Even the tenant right below you, Charlie, visited, offering warm welcomes of fresh bread and a simple smile.
As you lie on your couch, enveloping yourself in the embrace of your own naivety, forced by Jenna to take a day off, you listen to the familiar silence.
Which is soon broken by the snubbed sound of light that snuffs the room.
It’s the first time in weeks—29 days, 21 hours, 2 minutes—Xavier has stepped foot in your apartment.
You don’t make a move to look at him or say anything like you normally do.
You both reside in the deafening silence. One by choice, one succumbed.
For the first time, Xavier breaks the silence: “You weren’t at work today.”
You could laugh, scream, cry, or all of the above, but you don’t.
Quietness reaps your soul.
Xavier continues. “MC was worried about you.”
A lifetime's worth of companionship, and he wasn’t even here to seek you out.
You truly are stupid.
Xavier isn’t used to the silence—not this kind. Despite being so quiet all the time, this silence was completely foreign. It was heavy and uninviting, almost suffocating.
There’s a moment of unrelenting anticipation as he waits to see you respond.
When you don’t, he steps forward. One step, then two—then he’s at the foot of the couch, peering down at you like a deity summoned—unconsciously shining with that light of his.
Steel blue eyes bore into you, trying to read you.
But you’re too fractured to be read. At least not clearly.
“Are you okay?”
‘Am I okay?’ You want to laugh at the thought, to make fun of the words asked.
Were you ever okay?
You miss it all—your family, your friends, your people, your home.
To think, once there was a time you chose to abandon it all in the name of love—where you thought complacency was where you belonged: beside a man you knew never loved you, maybe never even liked you.
Now you can only sneer at the fact, as you reminisce about a place far and forgotten, only finding a place deep within your memory.
Xavier prompts a different question. “Have you been sleeping?”
And for the first time in a while, you finally speak.
“I’ve been dreaming a lot.”
First, about you. About us. About what could have been. About what never was.
“What about?” His voice holds something softer than you ever thought possible from him. Something reserved only for her, never for you.
It almost makes you break. To confess everything. To finally open up your heart and pour all your pain out. To free yourself from self-made shackles and unwanted thoughts. To hear the very softness you crave—to be held, caressed, embraced.
But you don’t. Because even with that unreadable look in his eye—the same eyes you’ve longed for all this time—you know what they hold.
Obligation
“Home,” you say simply.
For the first time in a while, Xavier looks at you—really looks at you. He’s known you all this time, the image of you ingrained in his brain like second nature. He knows you—you’re his oldest friend, most trusted companion. He's seen all sides of you, but the person he’s looking at looks nothing like the you he remembers.
He looks at you and can’t even recognise you. Cruelly, for a moment, he even wonders if it’s really you.
“I don’t see any changes.” Xavier takes a quick glance around; everything remains stagnant, as it always has.
You don’t correct him—not this time. You hum a noise between affirmation and acknowledgement and drift off to a place once forgotten.
Silence consumes the soul once again, with Xavier wondering when he had become so complacent with it all: with your constant presence, voice to fill the spaces he’s left behind, unrelenting energy, and unwavering spirit.
“You’re right. Nothing has changed.”
…
ACT III: DRIFT
Xavier hasn’t visited since.
Not that you didn’t expect it.
You still see him at work, at lunch with MC, and on the rarest occasion, you bump into him in the hallway of your apartment complex—like strangers.
You do your best to find a new rhythm in this life, as your absence becomes more common and your presence goes with the echo of your voice. You’re seen less and less.
Maybe you were never seen at all—not truly.
You find that it’s easier to deal with heartache in the same way Xavier deals with everything: in silence.
Silence, although not foreign, not even new to you, seeks you out and sticks to you like a foreboding message.
You’ve spent years so bright, a will so strong it held on tight enough to kill you. Your loudness brought you here, away from Philos, so as the bits of your spirit whittle away along with your soul, silence is left to fill in the gaps of an empty shell.
You learn to live without Xavier in your life—as though he isn’t the last thing you have of your home, of the love you once felt, the comfort, the security. You learn to live without Xavier and learn to nurse a pain that has become something of a lover.
You had to learn to live because the world kept spinning—even when you’re lost in a place, unfamiliarly familiar, and can do nothing but live on.
But are you even living at this point? Even a dead girl walking has rights to a life—to living.
You’re leaving for another mission. In spite of Jenna’s protests, you’d rather fight to exhaustion—to blend the pain in your chest with the ache of muscles.
Your face reflects your volition. Eyes pulled down by the weight of your burden, face pale like a dying star. Despite trying, your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, your laughter isn’t as bright, and your voice isn’t as loud.
You wait for Jenna’s reluctant orders. She’ll be damned if she lets you out on another solo mission—because despite your incredible hunting rates, you too are human.
A voice so familiar pulls your attention, and you look up to see Xavier standing before you—ice blonde hair and steel blue eyes in tow.
How long has he been standing there?
“Jenna assigned me as your partner for the mission.” Your face shows no expression—and not for lack of trying.
You laugh inwardly at the thought.
You're too much like him, in a sense. Loving hard enough to abandon your home, to follow blindly with fate—in spite of your own shortcomings. To silently love, quietly devote, and slowly disappear.
You purse your lips and let out a sigh too heavy for someone like you.
Xavier is almost taken by surprise.
“Let's go.” Xavier can hear it in your tone, and see it in your voice. How truly tired you really are—incomparable to his ever-waking sleepiness.
Your exhaustion runs you dry.
Again, silence befalls the two of you—an unwelcome rhythm that has found a place in the cracks of your relationship.
For the first time, Xavier trails behind you. Watching you. Observing you. And if he didn’t see your face or know your frame, he’d think the person walking in front of him was nothing but a stranger.
This time, Xavier walks in your shadow.
…
ACT IV: SILENCE
You think you’re fading.
The remnants of who you once were have been whittled down to the bone. You’re broken—maybe you always have been. Maybe this was who you were always supposed to be.
You’re so tired, not just emotionally but physically too.
The never-ending stream of wanders is starting to take a toll, even on professionals such as you and Xavier.
Your sword is dull, chipped at the edges, and your wounds scatter across your frame, staining your skin in a dirty shade of red.
Even the almighty knight is struggling to keep up with the demand.
So, as you find refuge in a murky cave, to recuperate the best you can, you find that the full-body ache starts to return.
You lean against a well-placed boulder, breath shallow and your grip loose, as your eyes haze over the fire in front of you.
You feel the warmth reach out for you—gently, creeping through the shell of yourself.
It’s quiet, save for the crackle of the flame.
You feel peaceful for once—the hunt muddling your thoughts so much that you can’t even think straight. Or maybe it’s the exhaustion of not sleeping.
Despite it all, you feel a strange sense of tranquillity. One with the throb in your chest that makes it hard to breathe, but is easier to deal with now that everything aches.
It’s peaceful, you think, as you fade into whatever hole you’ve dug all those years ago. Your mind is muddled, and your soul flickers with the last bits of who you were.
Suddenly, you’re pulled back out—again by the very men who left you there, like a nostalgic toy forgotten all these years.
Your eyes pull away from the fire.
You soak in his gaze. It holds none of the same love you see him give out so freely to MC. It’s hard and stern—years of knighthood sewn into his features. He looks at you like he doesn’t know you at all.
Calloused hand gripping your shoulder—it’s firm enough to shift your attention, your body facing him.
You look at him and try to find the line between succour and obligation. Try to find one thing that says you mattered—even just for a second.
You were foolish to believe that you could remain just his friend, companion, comrade. You were stupid, dumb, idiotic.
You were completely blind to it all—to think that his love could have relieved something burning in you. Something insatiable. Something permanent.
“You’re drifting.” Xavier’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and heavy heart.
You’ve been drifting.
You don’t make an attempt to joke like you used to—not even a weak smile. You sit back and stare at him like you don’t even know him.
“You’ve been doing that more often.” You take a moment to digest what he says—something he’s noticed entirely on his own, not by MC’s worrywart love.
Once upon a time, you would’ve thought it was normal for him to notice these types of things—the dullness of a close second. But now, you’re surprised. Shocked, even. Like he’s seeing you for the first time.
“Where are you going?” he prompts, and his voice holds something so intrinsic to the soul. Something you can’t find here. Something like home.
You’re fading, like the light of his evol—dimmer, as you’re pulled into the gravity of your own mind.
You’d like to tell him—if not as a lover, then a friend:
I’m lost. I’m gone. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m furious. I’m not myself. Not with what’s left of who I am.
I am not home.
You don’t. Despite something inside you telling you you must. That it’s not worth dying on this hill.
You think: How much deeper of a hole can you dig before you vanish? Before you're gone? Forgotten? Never having existed in the first place.
Until you’re not a person, but a memory.
You don’t tell him anything, because that’s not the kind of relationship you have—not anymore.
In the midst of the silence, your voice finally breaks through.
Quiet. Cracked. Almost gone.
“I’m thinking of going home.” There’s finality in your tone. Weak as your voice may be, Xavier hasn’t heard such certainty from you in months.
His eyes knit in confusion, contort in concern.
Maybe you’re just tired. But there’s something to your expression—an unspeakable hollowness that wasn’t there before. Your eyes haze over with something distant.
A body without a soul.
Like he always does, he remains silent. Never reaching out. He’s seen you get through worse, come back stronger. He’s seen everything. He knows you.
Or maybe... he knew you.
All the years of companionship will amount to something. It has to. He’s known you for so long. You stuck by his side even through death. You truly were the one stable thing in his life. Never needing to chase—always there, beside him. With him.
It was always you and him—even as he fights his way through the forgotten memories of MC, you remain.
Though, something claws at him, as his hand gently travels down your arm. To reach. To ask what you meant. To wonder if you meant the apartment beside his, where it reflected the culture of Philos, somehow capturing the stars in every object you bought.
He wants to ask if home is with him.
But he doesn’t.
Silence is there to greet him again—him only, he thinks, because you seem so used to it now.
Unfamiliar territory.
His eyes travel to his hand on yours, afraid to let go for some reason. As if letting go meant never seeing you again.
Your head is slumped motionless against his shoulder. His eyes peer onto your back—and then he sees it.
The blood stains the rock behind you. Your back is adorned with gashes that soak your uniform.
“Y/N,” he calls out, like it’s the only thing he knows. Because it’s the only thing he can do.
He hears no response. Not even a whisper of a shallow breath.
It’s not quiet. Not even small.
It’s silent.
Then he feels it. The way your eyes droop down to the fire. The limpness of your hand on his. The paleness. The coldness.
The death.
His spare hand reaches out.
He shakes you. “Don’t close your eyes.”
But you don’t abide—swaying with the motion of his force.
You could do anything. Do everything. Move mountains. Slay beasts. You were strong. Firm. Confident. He knew you could get through anything.
“Come on, just open your eyes. Can’t you do that?”
“One breath. That’s all I need.”
“Hold me tight, Y/N.”
Xavier cradles your gaunt body as he pulls your head taut to his shoulder. He rocks you like a sleeping child, holding you tight—tighter than he ever has before.
He’s shaking—and not from the cold.
He doesn’t know what comes over him, but suddenly, the silence breaks.
And he hears everything. Sees everything. Feels everything.
And he cries.
Because that’s all he can do.
…
ACT V: LINGER
Xavier likes to think that he notices your absence.
The way people step over the shells of your name, the routes taken to avoid the common spaces you once occupied in the living. The untouched work desk, memorialised by those who remembered her. The vacancy next door — the home she built away from home — now barren, her things sold, thrown away, or forgotten.
MC, who was so loud with her affection, mourned just as passionately. Her heart sewn onto her sleeve as she cried the loss of a friend. Flowers tended on the desk of a fallen soldier, and distance built from the apartment upstairs.
But really, he doesn’t.
The way you’ve faded so naturally out of his life — never moving, never reaching. The walk to and from home is the same. His apartment is the same. His life remains the same. Like you were never there. Like the image of your smile wasn’t something that pushed him through distant times.
Like you never meant anything to him.
Like the years of friendship, companionship, camaraderie — all amounted to a tombstone with your name etched into it.
And he hates himself for it.
For being so complacent. For never seeing you. Never hearing you. Never reaching out. For always thinking you’d remain the same: the loyal, competent pillar in his life. For thinking that his silence meant nothing to you.
Because it did. It meant everything.
He hates how he’s living life like he always did — like you weren’t ever part of him. Regret, guilt, grief — they all settle in his bones, for a person he can’t even remember.
Along with the memory of you, time passed, as it always does. And as time passed, he slowly forgot.
Your goals and aspirations. Your loves, your hates.
Your dreams.
He can barely remember your face. The last time you laughed. Your smile.
He can barely remember you at all.
Only pulled in by the gravity of his grief, where he finds you at the centre of it all.
To think he was so far from you. The irony now is that he can’t ever leave.
Stuck on a cursed image of a woman who meant so much to him.
Who held the moon up so he could shine with the stars.
He sits on his bed, light voided from the room. The pictures from your apartment piled by his bedside, facing the stars, watching — as you always did.
For the first time, he’s not tired at all.
Is this how you felt? How restless you were?
When he showed up that time, too worried about MC and her anxieties. Too quick to solve her issues that he hadn’t noticed how your eye bags sank deep enough to stain your spirit. How you lay, lost, drifting to a place he couldn’t reach.
Dreaming of home.
And just like his home, his culture, his people — you too join the faint memory of Philos.
His phone buzzes, bright. The screen illuminates the room.
Xavier thinks it’s MC again — she doesn’t know the depth of what you and Xavier shared, but she understood the weight of long-term partnership.
At first, he answered every time — to relieve her worries, to silently say he was fine.
But now, everything feels like a farce.
A lie he tells himself as much as he tells the world.
If the absence, the silence, isn’t acknowledged — maybe it’ll keep things still. To stop time from moving.
Because if time doesn’t move, then the memory of you won’t fade.
And you’ve faded enough.
He picks up the phone and waits.
Then he hears it — the soft laughter he longed for. It’s gentle and hearty, so full of life.
Xavier peels the phone from his ear to peer at the screen.
Then he sees it. The light. The brightness of a smile lost to memory, now alone. It’s displayed in front of him — teeth bared, lips stretched wide with a feeling he hasn’t seen in years.
It’s you.
Laughing so freely. Smiling so widely.
You’re alive.
Xavier scrambles upright, leaning forward to see the screen more clearly.
It’s you — in clothes he’s never seen you wear, in a room he’s never seen before, with a face he barely remembers.
But he knows it’s you.
How could he ever forget? Not truly.
So desperately, he calls out. Announcing himself, finally reaching out.
Your eyes perk in surprise as you lean in.
“Holy shit, did he just say my name? That’s crazy!” you giggle, and Xavier is too overcome with emotion to even question the absurdity of your words.
“No wonder people were glazing this game on Twitter!” you laugh before the call cuts.
Xavier’s too stunned to react. He taps rapidly through his phone to check the caller history.
Unknown.
He scrambles to call again.
Anticipation sweating off of him.
He holds his phone tightly and then— You pick up.
Your face: confused.
“Damn, I didn’t even level his affinity up yet and he’s calling already,” you mutter, peering at the screen.
Xavier looks dishevelled, almost destroyed. His hair is a messy heap, and dark circles shadow his eyes. The usual soft glow of his skin— dulled, lifeless.
He’s worn thin. A dead man walking.
“Hey,” Xavier says softly, almost inaudibly.
He watches your face shift — confusion to elation.
“Oh my god, you can even talk! Let me try again.”
And then you speak — not offhand commentary, but to him.
“Hi,” you greet, brightly enough to light up the room.
Xavier is at a loss, and doesn’t reply. But unlike before, you speak again.
“This is so cool. So like, does this count as my daily interaction?” you ask aloud, maybe to yourself, maybe to him— he can’t tell.
“Right, probably not in his programming to answer questions like that,” you mumble, before turning your full attention back to him.
“I’ll see you soon, alright? I hope this mechanic isn’t a glitch.” You grin softly.
And nothing in Xavier’s entire career could’ve prepared him for this.
But he’s not letting this opportunity go. Not when he has another chance to hear you, to see you — and even if he can’t touch you, he’ll never let go.
He’s not letting you slip.
Not now. Not ever. Not again.
“All right... I’ll see you soon,” Xavier replies simply.
Watching your face glow is enough for him.
The way your lips stretch, teeth bare — a face full of life.
Here, he decides: he’ll wait as long as you need.
As long as you want.
He’ll wait until the phone screen glows once again. He’ll wait to see you again.
Close enough to hear you. To see you. But never touch you.
…
ACT VI: ECHO
“Hi Xavier”
The unfair proximity of a dream
ETERNAL VOWS ft. love and deepspace
you go in for a bridal fitting, but you don't expect their reaction, at all.
content: fluff, afab! reader but no pronouns used, slightly suggestive in sylus's part, dress fitting
a/n: the new banner is releasing soon, so i had to join into the fun too, i honestly enjoyed writing this one sm, although it took me more than three days to finish :( not proofread !! wc: 1.6k. rbs are very appreciated <3
m.list
Not even in Xavier's most hidden dreams did you look so... ethereal.
That morning he woke up because you kept tapping his cheek. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was greeted by raw excitement.
“Do you remember what day today is?” you said in a squeaking voice, but still lying down because his arm pinned you to the bed and was too heavy to push.
Xavier closed his eyes, amused, but still with a foot in the land of dreams.
“I remember, starlight, you've been yelling in my ear for two weeks,” he faked annoyance while a smile tugged at his lip, shy, but daring enough to display.
A merman's poem, or is it a curse?
pairing: siren Rafayel x princess reader
genre: The Little Mermaid AU, romance, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending
content tags: siren/lemurian Rafayel, not exactly slow burn, Rafayel despises humans, discrimination and abuse against merfolk, misogynistic society, explicit reference to deaths and revenge, mentions of rape, on screen injuries and blood, the Sea is a Goddess, grief
word count: 10k words (it's split in 7 parts, all in one post)
theme song: “Quiet Moon” by Colossal Trailer Music
A/N: I let this marinate for around two to three months, I think, but of course I end up posting in the the middle of my final exams. I started this long before even knowing there would be a merman Rafayel myth, but I'm so happy to see his third myth 😭. The trailer is sad and this fic isn't necessarily happy either, but I loved every second of it. (My eyes are puffy, I sobbed when I wrote the final part). Anyways, buckle up to meet a very charming merman
I.
The abyss hugged her into a cold embrace as she sank lower and lower into the sea. She had lost some touch with the world already, as her lungs screamed for the oxygen her body wasn't receiving. The heavy material of her dress clung to her and dragged her lower.
It was getting darker and colder with each second, seconds that stretched into exhausting minutes in her tired brain.
At the surface, sailors, knights and a terrified father screamed her name. Against better judgment, one of the sailors dragged the king before he could drown himself as well.
With a silent prayer, the sailor forced the king back. “May the sea have mercy on her.”
***
Somewhere at the depths of the sea, a creature heard a cry, along with whimpers and pitiful prayers.
“They should learn when not to go on the sea, seriously,” Rafayel scoffed.
The Ocean Mourns You
✰ summary: Rafayel's beloved bride is gone and he couldn't save her ✰ pairing: Rafayel x reader ✰ content: angst, no comfort, sea god rafayel, fem reader ✰ w/c: 403 ✰ notes: Rafayel sea god of lemuria omg. when watching the trailer, at first i was horny but then i cried and then i kept seeing angsty stuff so heres this angsty drabble of mc dying 💔👍, peep the quotes from canon
🪷Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
“Stay. Stay with me…please.”
Warm tears dripped from his dark eyes. The ocean swelled in sorrow beneath him as the sun beat down on his bare shoulders. Rafayel begged for you to hold on, to not let go. The limp weight of your body weighed heavily in his arms. The blood from the stab wound that he was forced to commit flooded into the water. It spread in a pool around Rafayel’s waist, staining his skin and scales. As if he needs another reminder of how he failed his beloved bride. The sound of the knife piercing your delicate flesh with his own hands is sure to mock him in his nightmares.
“Our bond…it cannot end this way! I won’t allow it!” Rafayel cried out, his heart aches like the ocean’s pressure is crushing his soul.
“I love you Rafayel…” The light from your eyes fades faster and faster. Rafayel is distraught. Pleading for you to keep living, desperate promises of healing you fall on your deaf ears as your heartbeat stops. He stops. The only sounds he can he are his own heavy breathing and the waves crashing against each other. His beloved bride. Is gone? She’s gone.
“No! No no no!” The Sea God mournfully sobbed. Pressing your cooling body to his own, Rafayel tries to envelop you in his embrace one last time but the lack of movement and life within your mortal body only serves to remind him how he failed you. What kind of god is he if he cannot keep his love alive? He presses his face into your neck, if only to breathe you in again while his hands caress your hair.
He gets a few seconds of you in his embrace before your physical body withers. Your body turns to dust and fades away. Nothing is left of you. Rafayel weeps. His tears drip down his face, turning into opalescent pearls as they fall into the ocean by the dozen. He stays where you left him. Even as the sun rises and falls, even as the ocean’s tides move from high to low, Rafayel stays stuck in place. Any remnants of pink, gone. The signature Lemurian colour for happiness is drained from his body. His hair is tainted a dark blue. His scales shimmer a glossy blue, the pink sheen lost.
The Sea God waits for a long, long time, yet you never appear again.
Serenading*
sweet evil trap
thank you @sahxrii for the expert consultation on zayne's preferred desserts
You could think of several ways to wake Caleb up in the mornings, but nothing seemed to beat this. Your long time friend and perfect lover, he only ever slept good when you were asleep him. If not, he was the lightest sleeper.
He blames all the DAA trainings like you haven’t known him to like this since childhood. Silly boy. Regardless, Caleb slept heavily nowadays. Which made it all the easier to accomplish your goal time and time again.
“So cute, Caleb.” Your voice is hushed in the quiet of his home, early morning light barely peeking through the windows. Your hand stays on his chest, letting him know you’re still next to him as you pull down the covers and tug at the band of his briefs. “Such a good boy.”
The praise is never ending, awake or asleep he’ll always receive the full force of your loving affirmations.
You had agreed some time ago that both of you were free use, whenever, wherever, conscious or not. It was fully consenting, no guilt ever lingering in your minds. Both of you enjoyed the thrill and the outcome every time.
“Are you dreaming about me? You’re already hard.” He slapped up against his abdomen, standing proudly for your hungry eyes and greedy hands. “Naughty puppy, Caleb. You’re always thinking such lewd thoughts.”
Your fingers pump him languidly, eyes watching the twitch in his brow as his sleeping expression morphs slightly from your easy movements. “I guess we’re both naughty.” You’re already straddling his thighs, reaching down to pull your panties to the side as you hover above him.
“Woke up aching because you fucked me so good in my dream.” You reluctantly let go of his cock, reaching between your thighs to feel the slickness that had oozed out of you, making a mess of the cotton that once covered you. “Gotta make it real, or else I’ll never be able to sleep.”
He’s hot and heavy in your hand, even hotter as you guide him to your entrance and slowly sink down. This time, Caleb’s mouth opens wider, brows pinching as a delicate groan slips past his lips. Still, he’s somehow asleep.
“So big, you fill me so good.” You’re warm all over, eyelids feeling heavy as you balance your hands on the bare skin of his toned abdomen. By the time you fully settle your weight on his lap, walls twitching around the sheer size of him, Caleb’s body is growing a bit restless.
“Don’t wake yet, baby. Let me get to the good part…” you brace your knees on the mattress, even if it doesn’t give you the best grounding to really ride him, it’s enough to do the lazy strokes you had in mind.
Your hips begin to roll, bouncing every few movements until you settle into a sloppy rhythm. It’s a dizzying mix of sensations, the bounce of your body has him pressing into that sweet spot while the roll of your hips stimulates your clit. You can’t help but gasp, his name a quiet prayer as your eyes flicker between his face and where you connect.
“S-shit…” you bite your lip at the sound, Caleb’s voice is still thick with sleep but he’s finally stirring. It spurs you on, hands moving from his abdomen to his chest as you lean over him. You’re moving faster, harder.
The noises that spill past your lips are uncontrollable, it felt like every breath had a whimper going with it. “Caleb… feel so good…” as if to uttered the sweetest of spells, Caleb’s eyes blinked open with a deep groan.
“Fuuuuck, pips… you’re crazy.” A smile finds its way onto your blissed out face, body collapsing into his as your hips now move messily to collide with his. “Was dreamin’ about you, you were doing exactly this…” his feet plant flat on the mattress, legs bending for leverage as he humps up into your dripping cunt. “What a nice surprise to wake up to, so perfect, pips. Could cum right now…”
You’re in heaven, wrapped in his warmth inside and out. His scent enveloping you as large hands hold the fat of your ass cheek. This is what you wanted from the moment you opened your eyes. “Cum in me, Caleb. Need it.”
Just like that, Caleb’s convinced he’s in heaven too.
Dearest writer, I would like to submit an order into your respected bakery! 🍞🥯🥖🥐
May I kindly get a NSFW A to Z Headcannon for Rafayel or Caleb? (or both if you don’t mind :3) I’m a huge fan of your writing and given that you are open for orders I figured I could try my luck in ordering something special 🙂↕️🥹
But ofc if this is too much of a hassle you may kindly ignore my order and move on 🤭🥹🥺 I shall kindly await for your response and I look forward to your masterpiece (even if it’s not my request) 💖
nsfw alphabet ⊹ ࣪ ˖ rafayel and caleb
cw.: nsfw. real porn links!! must be logged in twt to watch.
note: oh anon you'll make my heart melt:( thank you for your sweet words, my luv. i'm so sorry for the wait, i wish i had finished this much sooner >< hope this is good enough tho bc i lwk feel like i did a terrible job <//3
Last Call
Calling the LADS Men to say goodbye because you weren't going to be making it home to them. A/N: MC isn't reincarnating this time sorry. Artist @/am_soul_art on insta [Requested by: nocturnaoasis]
It was supposed to be a quick mission. The intentions were good and the plan was perfect. At least thats what the higher ups thought at the Hunter's Association. The plan was to take back Hat Island, the small island right off the coast of linkon overrun with wanderers. The Hunter's Association believed that their strength in not only numbers, but also Evols and skills had improved enough to take back the small island.
They were wrong. So very wrong.
It was a suicide mission from the start; the wanderers were too smart there was never a chance. You panted as you ran from the onslaught of wanderers that had evolved over time inhabiting this island. You watched as comrade after comrade was slaughtered right in front of you. The number of Hunters was decresing quickly and there was no help coming. You held your side for dear life as blood gushed from your wound. You accepted your fate right then and there. You weren't making it back to Linkon.
You managed to find a small cave on the side of a mountain where you could make one last call.
Zayne
The phone seems to ring forever you were afraid you weren't going to hear his voice in your last moments. Just as you thought it would go to voicemail he picked up.
Zayne: Hello MC: Zayne.... Zayne: Yes I'm here
You couldn't help the grin that overtook your face.
MC: Remember our trip to find 'old popsicles'? Zayne: Of course I do MC: Remember when you swept me away from my friends to go read in a secluded park? Zayne: Yes ... where is this coming from?
You took a deep breath before coughing and grunting form the pain.
MC: I just want you to always think of our good memories ... I don't think we'll be making anymore after today Zayne: What are you saying? MC: They're gone ... they're all gone ... and I don't have much time left.
You finally broke down and sobbed into the phone as reality truly set in.
Zayne: Wh- MC: Promise me you'll move on ... I want you to find something or someone to bring the same vivacity that I brought you ... don't shut yourself off from the world ... I want you to be happy ... remember me in a good light because just know I died doing what I love Zayne: ....dont leave me behind MC: I love you Dr. Zayne......
Zayne didn't hang up he stayed on the line until he could no longer hear your stuttering breaths. He couldn't keep that promise of moving on. He threw himself into his work to keep his mind busy. He was afraid if he slowed down for one second he'd never be able to recover.
Rafayel
He picked up on the first ring as if he'd been waiting by the phone just for your call.
Rafayel: Hey Cutie!
He sounded so happy at the fact that you called it was already killing you that you'd be breaking his heart with this call.
MC: You know you create the most beautiful art Rafayel: You're making me blush stop it MC: I'm going to be painting pretty sunsets and sunrises for you Raf Rafayel: huh?
You swallowed hard trying to keep your voice from wavering.
MC: The next time you're on the beach and you see a beautiful sunset or sunrise ... that's me ... painting the sky just for you Rafayel: No no no you're-
His words became panicked as you quickly cut him off
MC: I wish I would have hugged you tighter before I left ... I'm not making it back to Linkon ... I'm sorry Rafayel: I can come to you just tell me where you are
Tears streamed down your face as your voice broke at the sound of him falling apart on the other end
MC: Im running on borrowed time right now Rafayel I just wanted to tell you that I love you ... so much Rafayel: I love you too
Your head was already swimming you didn't even realize you muttered.
MC: Good ... good.......
Rafayel never missed a single sunrise or sunset after that. Thomas would always find him sitting on the beach with red eyes and a camera to capture the sky that you painted for him.
Xavier
He picked up on the third ring w/ a groggy voice; he'd been asleep.
Xavier: My little star
His voice brought you a kind of comfort that no words could describe.
MC: You made a good call getting sick this week you know that?
You couldn't help but giggle at the situation.
Xavier: What are you going on about? MC: Remember how pretty the stars were that night we danced in the forest? Xavier: Yea they were almost as beautiful as you
He always knew how to make you feel like the prettiest girl to ever exist.
MC: Well next time you gaze at the stars the one star that seems to twinkle and dance just for you ... that'll be me
A brief moment of silence....
Xavier: You're not saying what I think you're saying
You could hear rustling on the other end knowing he just sat up.
MC: I'm sorry Xav ... I'm so sorry ... I promised I would make it back to you, but thats a promise I can't keep anymore ... I'm losing blood fast I can already feel myself losing consciousness Xavier: Hang on I'll be right there
And there it was the choked sob that finally slipped out of you as you responded.
MC: It's too late Xav ... do you love me?
He was quiet for a moment before you heard his low raspy voice respond.
Xavier: Yes. Of course I love you with everything that I am
Those words brought one last smile to your face and you finally let your eyes drift closed.
MC: thats all I wanted to hear ... I love you Xavier..........
Xavier was never the same after that. He spent his days training to get stronger to the point where his hands were bloody. No one could get through to him not even Jeremiah. At night he swore he could hear your voice as he gazed at the stars.
Sylus
Sylus: Hi sweetie MC: I love you!
You heard his breath hitch and then silence. You had rendered Sylus speechless with the three words he always wanted to hear.
Sylus: Why so sudden? MC: I never got the chance to say it to you, but I couldn't go without letting you know Sylus: where-
You quickly cut him off because there wasn't much time left. You could quite literally feel your life slipping through your fingers.
MC: this mission was doomed from the start ... I'm not making it home to you tonight ... I'm sorry ... there’s no pain though so I must be dying Sylus: Stay right where you are I’ll come find you MC: Don't .... it's no use ... thank you for everything I was always happiest with you
You smiled as you admitted that to him; it felt good.
Sylus: Stop you're not dying on that island
You sniffled as tears began to sting the back of your eyes.
MC: it's too late ... just ... just tell me you love me Sylus: but- MC: Sylus please Sylus: I love you My Queen MC: Music to my ears........
Sylus still tried to look for you, but could never make it onto the island for the wanderers were too strong....even for him. Mephisto did however manage to find you and brought back the necklace Sylus had given you. It now sits on a mantle in a glass case.
When the time comes, I'll disappear
n i g h t m a r e s.
angst with comfort. they have a nightmare where they lost you.
sylus
You were in the N109 Zone for hunters business, and he only found out from Mephisto. Sylus got on his bike and rushed over to your location to demand answers. Why are you there? Why are you alone? Why didn't you tell him anything?
Once he saw you in the middle of a battleground surrounded by unconscious bodies and wrapping a bandage around your left arm, Sylus's breath hitched.
"So the kitten got scratched, despite how ferocious she is." He reached out to help you with your bandage, but you took a step back and frowned at him.
"Don't touch me."
"Oh?" He raised a brow at your cold tone. "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, sweetie?"
You gritted your teeth and turned away from him.
"Stay away from me, Sylus."
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒
𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑
Xavier lies on the couch, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His hoodie is slightly rumpled, one arm dangling off the edge of the cushions.
You approach quietly, drawn by an irresistible urge to feel his warmth. Without hesitation, you slide into the space beside him, immediately seeking the comfort only he can provide.
Xavier stirs, his eyes fluttering open briefly. For a moment, his expression shifts—the corners of his mouth lifting slightly—before his arms instinctively wrap around you.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, voice thick with slumber. “You’re here.”
Lost // Xavier x Reader
This is my first fanfic in years, so please be nice T^T I'll be doing ones with a similar concept for the rest of the boys too Concept: Xavier has a nightmare, you comfort him CW: hurt/comfort, spoilers for his anecdote, death of character (in dream), blood, nightmares, bit of fluff at the end, she/her pronouns for reader Masterlist
He swayed on his feet with every step he took, he had to keep moving, yet every step he took made burning pain shoot up his side. The cuts on his face sting in the cold air, blood long dried and flaking on his skin.
He has to make it back. She’s waiting for him.