♡ Love and Deepspace ♡ Crowapple ♡ singer/writer ♡ @ur_n8ingale on twitter ♡ 35+ ♡ she/her ♡ DNI: minors, antis, people who aren't aware of the proper use of fandom terms
the first time you noticed it was when you woke up in the middle of the night because Sylus was watching you sleep. It wasn't surprising that he was awake in the middle of the night; he was a nocturnal person. "what are you doing?" you asked as you stirred, moving on the bed until your back was to him. not because you didn't want him to see you sleeping, but your face hurt from lying in the same position.
"you were snoring," he joked, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. you let out a gasp of disgust when you heard his words and then snorted, closing your eyes again because you knew it was a lie. that's when you noticed the second habit he had with you. his fingers brushed back the hair that had fallen over your face so he could kiss your cheek before going back to sleep. he always did that before kissing your cheek.
the third time was when you two were shopping. you had shown him a set of glasses and plates that you loved. they were ceramic, but a very bright shade of yellow that he had said was… peculiar (probably not to say horrible). Sylus had bought them without you noticing. you had noticed until you had reached the register to pay for everything, you also noticed the book you had shown him, saying you had wanted to read it for a long time.
the fourth time was when he said you two would have dinner out that night. he had taken you to a restaurant you had talked about for over a week, but it was terribly expensive and practically impossible to get a reservation, and even then… you didn't know how he had done it.
that night, you thought about mentioning it, asking him if it was something he did consciously or if he had just gotten used to having these little habits with you. however, you didn't say anything. you just felt something in your chest filled with happiness at noticing the little habits he had with you.
Synopsis: Caleb makes you learn how to count. Count how many orgasms he can pull from you in the spawn of one morning, how many people can hear you scream in pleasure in the women's lockers at the gym and how many streetlights you gotta pass until you're finally home and he's balls deep inside you.
or in other words: you join Caleb at the gym one morning and a little bit of cardio turns into marathon sex.
Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, gym sex, semi-public sex, car sex, multiple orgasms, marathon sex, caleb being a bit rough, marking, rough sex, caleb is insane and makes you cum like 5 times, he got you in a headlock, too;)
Pairings: Caleb x reader
Word count: 4.5k
You’re pretending to stretch by the squats machine, but your eyes keep sliding to Caleb. He’s on the mats doing push ups like gravity’s a suggestion for him. Every dip of his chest makes the veins in his arms pop, sweat catching the low light. You swallow hard, thighs pressing together under your loose shorts.
You pretend to scroll your phone after, leaning against a squat rack, but your eyes keep drifting.
God, the way his back ripples. Every rep is smooth, controlled, like he could do a hundred and still have breath left to tease you. You catch the flex of his triceps, the shift of muscle under skin when he locks out at the top. Heat crawls up your neck. You shift your weight, thighs brushing, and hope the flush isn’t obvious.
Caleb doesn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth lifts just enough to suggest that he knows you’re checking him out shamelessly while trying to play it cool.
Fifty reps later he flips to his back for crunches. You drift closer, pretending to hunt for a forgotten hair tie on the floor. His abs tighten, release, tighten again, and you bite the inside of your cheek. A bead of sweat slides down the groove between his pecs, vanishes beneath the waistband of his shorts. Your stomach flips.
He sits up in one motion, wipes his face with the hem of a towel, and finally meets your eyes. “Spot me?” he asks, voice low, amused.
You nod too fast.
He lies back, hooks his fingers behind his head, and you straddle the bench behind him, knees brushing his ears. He starts crunching again, slower now, letting you feel every controlled breath against your bare legs. His abs flex, release, flex again, skin gleaming. You want to lick the sweat off the line between his pecs.
He catches your wrist mid reach. “Eyes up here, pips.”
Your cheeks burn. “Wasn’t looking.”
“Liar.” he sits up in one fluid move, his breath warm against your stomach.
Before you can slide off the bench he’s standing. One second you’re vertical, the next you’re upside down over his shoulder.
“Caleb!” It’s half protest, half giggle.
He smacks your ass lightly. “Locker room. Now.”
The women’s side is empty, lights dimmed to half power. He shoulders through the door, sets you down on the narrow bench between the lockers. The metal is cold against your thighs.
You reach for him but he catches both your wrists in one hand, pins them above your head against the lockers. The clank echoes.
“Been staring at me all morning,” he says, voice raspy and teasing. “Thought you were subtle.”
“I was subtle.”
“Lying doesn't look good on ya’ pips.” he leans in, mouth brushing your ear. “Tell me what you want.”
Your pulse is loud in your ears. “You.”
He chuckles, dark and pleased. The hand not trapping your wrists slides down your stomach, hooks into the waistband of your shorts. One tug and they’re halfway down your thighs, panties caught with them. Cool air kisses your skin and you shiver.
He turns you around, palms sliding under your tank to shove it up. Cool air hits your nipples and they tighten instantly.
“Hands on the bench, baby. Bend for me.” he murmurs, voice rough and honey-like.
You fold forward, palms slapping cool vinyl. Ass up, legs spread just enough that the lace pulls tight between your cheeks. You hear the soft rustle of fabric, but he still doesn’t touch you. Instead he drags one knuckle up the back of your thigh, stopping a whisper from your pussy.
“Look at ya’ pips,” he breathes. “The lace is fucking see through. Can see how swollen you are, baby.” He blows a cool stream of air across the wet spot, making your hips jerk. “Sensitive already. Knew you’d be.” he chuckles lowly when you whimper slightly at his touches.
A low chuckle. “Bet I could make you drip on the floor without laying a finger on you.”
He proves it. He keeps that knuckle hovering, tracing lazy figures in the air, close enough that you feel the heat of his skin, far enough that every nerve ending screams for more. Your thighs tremble. A bead of wetness slips free, rolls slow down the inside of your leg. He watches it travel. “Awe, making a mess, baby?”
Only then does he make contact, one broad thumb pressing the lace right against your clit, rubbing in tiny, maddening circles. The friction is perfect and not enough at once. You push back and he pulls the thumb away.
“Greeeedy.” He hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties and snaps it against your hip. “These stay on a little longer.”
He drops to a crouch behind you. You feel his breath first, warm against the backs of your thighs, then the flat of his tongue dragging up the wet trail he just watched form. He stops just below the lace, sucks a gentle mark into the soft skin there. Your knees nearly buckle.
“Caleb—” you moan, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Shh. Count for me.”
He slides one thick finger under the edge of the lace, not inside you, just resting against your entrance, feeling you flutter. Another finger joins it, scissoring the fabric aside so cool air kisses your bare lips. He spreads you open with his thumbs as he murmurs, “Count the seconds ‘till I let you cum. Out loud.”
“One,” you choke.
He blows another cool breath; your hips chase it.
“Two.”
He leans in, lips brushing your clit through the lace, a ghost of a kiss.
“Three.”
You’re shaking so hard the bench creaks. He finally slips the panties down to mid thigh, trapping your legs together. The lace bands your skin and then his mouth is on you, no teasing now, open mouthed and filthy, licking a hot stripe from your clit to your entrance. You cry out, the sound ricochets off lockers.
He pulls back just enough to speak against you, lips moving over slick skin. “Keep counting.”
“F-four—”
He spears his tongue inside, curls it, withdraws. Repeats. Your thighs clamp around his ears but he wedges them wider with his shoulders.
“Five—ahh…”
Two fingers replace his tongue, sliding in to the knuckle, crooking hard against that spot that makes you see stars. His thumb finds your clit again, slick circles, relentless. You’re dripping down his wrist.
“Six…oh god…”
He adds a third finger, stretching you open, pumping slowly while his mouth latches onto your clit and sucks. The wet sounds are obscene. Your countdown dissolves into broken whimpers.
He stops everything. Fingers gone, mouth gone. You sob at the loss.
“Turn around.”
You spin, back hitting the lockers, panties still tangled at your thighs. He rises, towering, cock jutting thick and flushed from his open shorts. A bead of precum pearls at the tip. He fists himself once, twice, eyes locked on your parted lips.
“On your knees, baby.”
The tile is cold. You sink down, mouth watering. He taps the head against your bottom lip, smearing wetness.
“Open up.”
You do. He feeds you the first inch, lets you swirl your tongue, taste salt and skin. Then he cups your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.
“Hands behind your back.”
You lace your fingers. He slides deeper, slow, controlled, until your lips meet the base of his thumb. Your eyes water and he groans at the sight. “That’s it. Take me juust like that, very good.”
He fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts, never rough, just enough to feel owned. Every time you moan around him, his hips stutter. After a dozen strokes he pulls out, cock glistening.
“Stand up and turn around.”
You scramble upright. He spins you, kicks your feet apart as far as the panties allow. One arm bands across your chest, pinioning your arms. His cock nudges your entrance, slides through your folds, coating himself.
“Beg.”
“Please, Caleb, please fuck me, I need—nghhh…”
He sinks in one smooth thrust, bottoming out. Your back arches; his arm tightens, holding you flush against him.
“Feel that?” he rolls his hips, grinding deep. “That’s what you do to me.”
He sets a brutal pace, every stroke dragging over that spot inside. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll feel me allll day,” he whispers against your ear.
He starts moving, deep, punishing strokes that rock the bench. Every thrust shoves a soft cry from your throat. The arm around your throat flexes, guiding your head back until your spine arches. His free hand splays over your belly, fingers spread wide, holding you pinned while he starts to move.
Each stroke is deep, deliberate, the kind that drags over every sensitive spot inside you and leaves sparks behind your eyelids. Your fingers scrabble for purchase on the bench; he lets you find none. The headlock keeps you right where he wants you, cheek pressed to his forearm, his pulse thudding against your temple.
“Look at ya’,” he murmurs, hips snapping harder. “Taking it so pretty. My strong girl, huh? Letting me fold you in half whenever I want.”
You try to answer but it comes out a broken moan. He laughs again, soft, and the sound vibrates through his chest into yours.
“Shh. I feel you, baby. Clenching like you’re trying to keep me inside forever.” he angles his hips, hitting that spot that whites out your vision. “Go ahead. Milk me dry, won't ya? Show me how much you looove this.”
Your thighs shake. His rhythm never falters, long and punishing strokes that bottom out and drag back slow enough to make you whine for the next one. The arm around your throat loosens just enough for you to gulp air, then tightens again, possessive.
Sweat beads between your shoulder blades; his tank shirt sticks to both of you. You can smell him, salt and cedar and the faint trace of the gym’s disinfectant. Every sense narrows to the stretch of him inside you, the flex of his arm, the low rasp of his voice.
His free hand slips between your legs, fingers rolling your clit in tight circles. Pleasure coils sharp and bright, and you’re dripping down your own thighs. “Caleb, please…”
“Please what? Want me to choke you harder while I split this pussy open?”
You clench around him involuntarily. He laughs, a dark and filthy sound that turns you on so much more. “Yeahhh, you do.”
He tightens his arm just enough to make stars spark behind your eyelids. His free hand slips between your legs, fingers pinching your clit, rolling it in time with his thrusts. You’re so close your legs shake.
“Cum whenever you want,” he growls softly against your ear. “But when you do, I want you to scream my name so loudly the janitor hears it in the hallway.”
Your orgasm is so close, your thighs shaking, pussy pulsing so hard he has to pin your hips to keep you still.
Two more thrusts and you’re gone, clenching hard around him, crying his name as the orgasm slams through you, walls fluttering wildly around his cock. He slams deep, holds, spills hot inside you with a ragged groan.
You stay locked together, panting. He eases out slowly, watches his cum drip down your thighs, then swipes it up with two fingers and paints it across your lower lip.
“Taste us, baby.”
You lick him clean, still dizzy. He kisses you after, slow and filthy, sharing the taste.
He sets you on your feet just long enough to tug your shorts up your thighs slowly, like he’s savoring the way the fabric clings to the mess between your legs. He’s already balled the soaked lace in his fist, thumb rubbing the damp spot like it’s a trophy.
“These are mine now,” he says, voice low, tucking them into the pocket of his sweatpants. The outline of the lace presses against his cock when he pulls the pants back up. “The whole ride home as you sit in the car, you’ll feel what I did to you.”
Your laugh comes out shaky. “People are gonna notice.”
“Let ’em wonder.” he cups your jaw, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. “But nobody gets to see this pussy except me.”
He shoulders both your bags, then scoops you up again, this time over one shoulder like you weigh nothing. Your shorts ride high, cool air kisses your bare lips with every step. You squeak, clutching his back.
“Caleb!”
“Quiet, baby. Back exit.”
He carries you past the rows of lockers, past the humming vending machine, to the service corridor nobody uses. The emergency light glows red above the push door. He shoulders it open. Dawn is just starting to bleed pink across the employee lot; his car sits alone under a flickering streetlamp.
He doesn’t set you down until you’re at the passenger door. Then he spins you, presses your back to the cool metal, and kisses you slow and filthy, tasting both of you on your tongue. One thick thigh nudges between yours, pinning you open. You’re dripping again, you can feel it sliding down the inside of your leg.
“Spread,” he murmurs against your mouth.
You do. He drags two fingers through your folds, gathers the slick, then paints it across your lower lip like gloss.
“Keep that there ‘till we get home.”
He opens the door and lifts you onto the seat. The leather is cold against your bare skin, making you hiss. He buckles you in, knuckles brushing your nipple through the tank top, then leans in to whisper, “Take the shorts off, and then hands on the dash. Don’t move them. If you’re good, I’ll let you come on my tongue as soon as we get home.”
You obey instantly, pulling the shorts down and out, throwing them in the back seat, your palms flat against the dash, thighs trembling. He circles the car, slides into the driver’s seat, and fishes the ruined panties from his pocket. He drapes them over the rearview mirror like a flag.
“Evidence,” he says, smirking, and starts the engine.
The car rumbles to life. He backs out slowly, one hand on the wheel, the other sliding up your thigh to cup your bare pussy possessively. His middle finger slips just inside, a lazy tease.
“Count the streetlights,” he orders. “Every one we pass, I add a finger. By the time we hit your exit, you’ll be stuffed full and begging.”
You’re already breathless. “Yes, sir.”
He pulls onto the empty road, city still asleep, your soaked panties swaying gently above the dash, making you flustered from being both aroused and slightly mortified.
The first streetlight slides across the windshield like a slow strobe. Caleb’s middle finger sinks inside to the second knuckle, curls once, and stills.
“One,” you whisper. Your palms sweat against the dash.
He hums and eases onto the access road. The car’s suspension rocks you gently, every bump nudges his finger deeper. You clench around him on instinct and he clicks his tongue.
“Relaaax, baby. You squeeze too early and I stop counting.”
Second light. He adds his ring finger, scissoring slowly, stretching you open. The wet sound is obscene over the engine’s purr. You bite your lip to keep quiet.
“Two.”
Third light. Thumb on your clit in lazy circles. Your hips try to chase it; the seatbelt locks you in place. He chuckles darkly and fond.
“Greedy girl. Three.”
By the fourth light you’re dripping onto the leather, thighs trembling. He crooks both fingers, rubs that spot that makes your vision blur, then pulls them out completely. You whine in a high, broken moan.
“Hands stay put,” he reminds you, bringing slick fingers to his mouth. He licks them clean while the light turns green, eyes on the road like he’s not driving you insane right this second.
Fifth light. He reaches across, pops the glove box open and pulls out a little silicone bullet you didn’t know he kept there. The click of it switching on is soft, evil. He wedges it between your folds, right against your clit, but doesn’t turn the speed past a whisper.
“Five. Hold it there. If it slips, we start over.”
Your thighs clamp, the vibrator buzzes faintly, maddening. You’re panting fog onto the windshield.
Sixth light. He cranks the toy one notch higher and slides three fingers back inside in one slick push. Your back arches hard enough the seatbelt bites your collarbone.
“Six—fuck…Caleb…”
“Language,” he teases, pumping slowly. “We’ve got twelve more lights to go.”
Seventh. He angles his wrist, thumb pressing the toy harder. Your toes curl against the floor mat. You’re so close your legs shake.
“Eyes on the mirror,” he orders.
You look up. Your ruined panties sway with every turn, the lace catching dashes of pink sunrise.
Eighth light. He turns off the vibrator and yanks it away. Cold air rushes in, making you sob at the loss.
“Nine more to earn it back.”
He drives one handed now, knuckles white on the wheel, the other hand tormenting you—two fingers, three, none, thumb, no thumb—matching the rhythm of the lights like a fucked up metronome. Your thighs are slick to the knee. The car smells like sex and leather and him.
Tenth light. He finally cranks the vibrator to medium and shoves it inside you alongside his fingers, stretching you impossibly full. The stretch burns sweet, making you unable to stop moaning.
“Ten. You’re gonna cum on eleven, baby. Not before. Count with me.”
Eleventh light. He twists the toy, curls his fingers, and presses the heel of his hand hard against your clit. The orgasm barrels down your spine. You scream his name, walls spasming so hard the toy nearly shoots out, but he pins it deep with two fingers.
“Good fucking girl,” he growls, riding you through it, drawing it out until you’re limp and whimpering.
He doesn’t stop. He clicks the toy to pulse, slow fucks you with it while the twelfth light turns green.
“Home stretch,” he says, voice rougher now. “When we hit your exit, you’re gonna get this pretty girl ready to ride my cock ‘till I paint your insides again. Gonna make her niiiice and wet for me, keep her warm, understood?”
You can’t speak, just nod frantically, forehead against the cool window. Another light flicks overhead. He adds a fourth finger, stretching you open, prepping you for what’s coming. The panties on the mirror twist in the AC breeze and you’re counting streetlights, every single one a prayer that this ride never ends.
The toy is still pulsing low inside you when the exit sign finally glows ahead. Caleb kills the engine rumble to a purr and turns onto your street. He eases his fingers out slowly, letting the toy slip free with a wet sound.
You whimper at the emptiness. He pockets the toy, licks his fingers clean again, eyes on the road like he’s not destroying you.
“Touch me,” he says, voice rough.
Your seatbelt clicks open. You twist toward him, knees on the warm leather, and palm the thick bulge straining his sweats. He’s rock hard again, cock jerking under the fabric the second your hand cups him. A dark spot of precum has already bled through.
“Still?” you breathe, awed.
“Been hard since the locker room, pips.” he mutters. “You think one round’s enough when you look fucked out like that?”
You tug the waistband down. His cock springs free, still flushed and heavy, a bead of precum pearling at the slit. You wrap your fingers around the base, thumb swiping over the head, spreading slick. He hisses, hips flexing.
The car rolls slowly past the buildings. You lean down, tongue flicking out to taste him, salt and skin and the faint trace of you from earlier. He groans, one hand leaving the wheel to tangle in your hair.
“Whole mouth, baby. Take me deeep.”
You do. Slide down until your lips kiss your own fingers, throat fluttering around him. The angle’s awkward, seatbelt digging into your hip, but you don’t care. You hollow your cheeks, suck hard, and he swears under his breath.
“Fuck…slow, we’re almost—”
You pull off with a wet pop, lick a stripe up the underside, then sink back down. His thigh tenses under your palm. You bob faster, hand twisting at the base, tongue swirling. His hips start to chase your mouth, shallow thrusts that bump the back of your throat. You moan around him, the vibration of it making him throb inside your mouth.
“Close,” he warns, voice shredded.
You take him all the way, nose pressed to the trimmed hair at his base, and swallow. He slams the car into park, engine still idling, and comes with a guttural curse. Hot pulses flood your tongue; you swallow every drop, milking him until he’s twitching and oversensitive.
When you pull off, a thin string of spit and cum connects your lip to his tip. You break it with a slow lick, then tuck him gently back into his sweats. He’s breathing like he just deadlifted a house.
He kills the engine. Silence rushes in, broken only by the soft tick of cooling metal and your own heartbeat.
“Garage door’s closing,” he says, voice hoarse as he reaches to the backseat and hands you your ruined shorts. “Get out. Walk ahead of me. I want to watch my cum drip down your legs while you climb the steps.”
You get dressed and open the door on shaky knees. You can feel the slick mess sliding with every step, thighs brushing, shorts riding higher. Behind you, his footsteps are slow, and you know exactly where his eyes are fixated.
At the front door he catches your wrist, “Keys,” he murmurs against your neck.
You fumble them from his pocket, and he unlocks the door, kicks it open, and scoops you up again.
“Bed’s too far,” he decides, carrying you straight to the kitchen island. He sets you on the cold marble, yanks your shorts off in one motion, and spreads you wide.
“Round three,” he says, dropping to his knees. “Then I’m carrying you upstairs and keeping you there ‘till noon.”
You thread your fingers through his damp hair, arch your back, and let the morning light pour over both of you while his tongue writes new promises between your thighs.
The marble is ice against your bare back, but Caleb’s mouth is fire. He spreads you with two thumbs, licks a slow, filthy stripe from your entrance to your clit, and groans like he’s starving.
Your hips jerk, and he pins them flat with one forearm across your pelvis, the other hand sliding two fingers back inside you, curling hard.
“Still so wet,” he rasps, lips shiny. “Taste like both of us.”
You whimper, fingers tightening in his hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking fast, fingers scissoring wide. The stretch burns sweet; you’re still swollen from the way he mercilessly teased you at the gym and in his care, and still dripping his last release. Every thrust of his fingers pushes his cum deeper, making you feel claimed down to the bone.
He pulls back just enough to watch his fingers disappear into you. “Look at that pretty pussy tryin’ to keep me inside.” he adds a third finger, twists, and you cry out. “Gonna wreck you again, baby. Gonna make you forget every room in this house except the one I’m fucking you in.”
Your thighs shake. He stands, shoves his sweats down just enough to free his cock again. He drags the head through your folds, coating himself, teasing your clit until you’re babbling.
“Please, inside Caleb…wanna feel you, baby…”
He sinks in one brutal thrust. Your back bows off the counter; the edge bites into your spine, but you don’t care. He bottoms out, grinds deep, then pulls back and slams home again. The island creaks under the force.
“Legs around me,” he growls.
You hook your ankles at the small of his back. He lifts you clean off the marble, hands under your ass, and starts fucking you standing—deep, punishing strokes that make you see stars with every upthrust. Your arms loop around his neck; you cling, nails raking his shoulders.
He grabs and manhandles you backward until your spine meets the fridge again. Magnets clatter to the floor. He pins you there, one hand braced beside your head, the other sliding up to collar your throat, just enough pressure to make your pulse spike.
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he demands, hips snapping.
“You,” you gasp. “Only you—fuck, Caleb…”
“That’s right.” he angles his hips, hits that spot dead on, and you shatter again, clenching so hard he has to fight to keep moving. Your orgasm rips a broken sob from your throat and he swallows it in a messy kiss, teeth clashing, tongue fucking your mouth in time with his cock.
He follows seconds later, burying himself to the root and pulsing hot inside you. You feel every spurt, every throb, until he’s spent and trembling against you.
For a minute you just breathe together, sweat slick skin stuck, hearts hammering in sync. Then he scoops you up bridal style, your legs still wrapped around his waist, his cock softening inside you but refusing to slip out.
“Shower,” he murmurs against your temple. “Then bed. You’re not walking straight ‘till dinner, pips.”
You laugh, breathless, and nip his earlobe. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart, baby. I’ve got sixteen hours of workout recovery to make up for, and every rep’s gonna be inside you.”
After the very welcomed warm shower, he shoulders into the bedroom, kicks the door shut, and tosses you onto the unmade bed. The sheets still smell like last night’s sex.
He crawls over you, eyes dark, possessive, tender. “Spread for me,” he says softly.
You do. He slides home again, slower this time, like he’s memorizing every inch of your gummy walls. Your sigh is half moan, half plea.
Outside, the neighborhood wakes up, sprinklers hissing, a dog barking, someone’s garage door rumbling. Inside, the only sounds are wet drag of skin, your breath hitching, his low growls of mine, mine, mine.
By the time the sun is high enough to stripe the bed in warm bars, you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. You’re boneless, marked, dripping and grinning like an idiot against his chest.
He kisses your hair, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Nap,” he decides. “Then lunch on the counter. Then round five, ‘cause I just knoow you’ll be begging for it by tonight.”
You hum, already drifting off. “You’re insane, Caleb.”
He pulls the duvet over both of you, tucks you against his side, and palms your bare ass like he’s making sure you’re still there.
You’re sticky, sore, and stupidly happy, falling asleep to the steady thump of his heartbeat and the quiet, possessive whisper against your temple, “Love you, pips.”
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST HERE AND ON MY AO3.
.ᐟ✧ translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites ARE NOT permitted. please do not ask. do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own. thank you!
still kinda getting used to putting my oc stuff out there but uhh...yea- here's the first 3ish pages & how she ends up in Sylus' care instead! Yes i did a crossover :3c & YES i will be doing it again for their AU's!
tw: sexual + drug abuse, suicide mention
ive had her for a year now- which is kinda crazy b/c i still feel the urge to write for her ( maybe rewrite past entries) & she only got a name a few days ago! (i need update all the pages to take away the x's.. at least i updated her pic finally ; ;) BUT her name is Asphodel! i swear i didnt know about this flower until recently nor its connection to tartarus.
Important note;
Sylus is paired with an oc or non-mc, NOT mc. I pair my MC with Zayne & they eventually do double dates in stuff! (Zayne also lowkey becomes her Dr after the incident too due to Sylus’ trust issues/paranoia about the how she got her condition but knows if mc trusts him then it should be fine)
if anything my MC tries to keep pushing him to hurry up n’ confess to her b/c its clear as day & even the twins are losing it. They sometimes slip up & call her mom instead of big sis
the burning may be high but they are just an idiot in love & someone afraid to love, I promise. Its worth it when they finally find a more peaceful lifestyle they wanted!
Rafayel & her never had anything romantic either, they just found solace in each other b/c how much they had in common. aka the bestie she never had
For some reason all of this seemed to be familiar ... had she been here before?
The tall fence appeared to be repelling, threatening even but she would overcome it, she had to overcome it. There was something on the other side which lured her, attracted her. So she started climbing, however it seemed to be impossible overbearing it. The harder she tried the more the top of the fence appeared to be unreachable - almost as if it would grow like weeds. At some point her limbs felt heavy, her arms couldn’t hold her up anymore. A strong hand grabbed her ankle and made her fall down ... and down ... and down ...
When her feet finally reached the ground again she was surrounded by gruesome monsters. Gigantic wanderers! But this kind she had never seen before - yet they appeared eerily familiar how they lunged at her. She screamed, high-pitched and scared and although the monsters vanished -
Suddenly Tommy was awake, her own screeching scream still resounded in her ears. The shock about this very vivid nightmare had her kick and toss around in bed until the child gasped when she fell out of bed. Thankfully her wrist was still secured but all the girl could think about right now was the blurring memory of the wanderers which had threatened to attack her.
A few minutes passed in which she sat on the ground, trembling and breathing shallowly. Hugging her knees Tommy took a moment to realise where she actually was; then she recognised the shape of her soft plushie that probably fell off the bed as well. Of course she hadn't noticed how she threw it away while dreaming. With a sniff the child crawled over and pulled the huge, soft pillow-like plushie to her chest: "... I'm sorry, Sir Fluff." While she buried her face into the velvet-like fabric the dread faded slowly. Still Tommy was immensely restless, a shadowy shape she caught from the corner of her eye even made the girl flinch. Rubbing her face Tommy eventually climbed back into bed and nestled underneath her blanket.
But it was no use; the horrific appearance of the wanderers stuck on her mind and in front of her inner eye and usually Tommy used to curse at all the other kids she needed to share a bed with - but right now she would have welcomed them with all her heart. She didn't want to sleep by herself and maybe even have those monsters haunting her in her dreams again ...
But what to do? Clinging on to the cat plush Tommy squeezed her eyes shut. Breathing in ... and out. In ... and out.
In ... at the sudden noise of a loud crash outside the child shrieked and hid completely beneath her blanket. After roughly a minute of quietly sobbing and sniffing, the girl eventually climbed out of bed again. Her arms tightly wrapped around Sir Fluff Tommy stepped over to her room door, pushed down the door handle and slipped outside.
The corridor was dimly lit but it was enough for her to see; in fact it was a warm, comfy light to her eyes when Tommy made her way down the floor. The carpet beneath her bare feet was thick and felt warm while the girl turned around a corner, looking for somebody or any life sign. The people in these valuable looking oil paintings seemed to observe Tommy on her lonely walk through the quartier; a few times when Tommy glanced at them she imagined the depicted ones winking at her.
Behind another corner the child finally caught the figure of someone. The dude was quite tall and rather intimidating but maybe he could tell her where to look for Sylus. For some reason Tommy was sure that keeping him company, and if it was just for a little while, would make her feel better and the nightmare-wanderers less gruesome.
Little did she know about what it meant to be the leader of Onychinus. How and what Sylus used to busy himself with and taking care of little menaces, how Tommy had been called by a few of his men, wasn't exactly a priority, usually at least. This was probably running through the mind of the guy standing in front of a closed door, shielding Tommy's ears from the most of a lively debate; he tilted his head, distorting his face: "What are you doing here?! Go back to your room again." Crossing his arms he eyed the child in her black and pastel red pajamas hugging that ridiculous plush with annoyance: "Crumbs like you belong to bed at this time."
"I can't sleep." Pouting Tommy rubbed her teary eyes and frowned, pointing at the door: "Is Sylus in there? Can I see him?" Her innocent question was more of rhetorical nature as she kept stepping closer. The guy snorted: "Didn't you hear what I said? Piss off, the Boss mustn't be diaturbed." Tommy watched how he inhaled deeply, yet she sniffed and pushed her lower lip forward: "But it's important -"
"He's busy, you little brat!" Now he raised a hand as if aiming at her. Quickly the child ducked away below his apparingly attack and wanted to grab the door handle when the strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling away the squirming girl: "FUCKER, LEAVE ME BE, I WANNA SEE SYLUS!" His enervated, fury curses barely reached her ears, kicking and boxing the dude earned Tommy a clout and a few angry swats but it didn’t help to calm her down, on the contrary -
"... let her in."
Almost simultaneously both of them paused before the guard pushed her away. That was when Tommy realised that she had lost her plush in the short fight. Picking up Sir Fluff she distorted her face at the dude who eyed her threateningly before opening the door.
The chandelier's golden light brightened the room in a cozy, comfortable way and illuminated the figures of the silver-haired leader of Onychinus and a few strangers. The moment the girl appeared in the doorframe their heated discussion paused abruptly with all eyes directed at Tommy. She sniffled and immediately looked for Sylus' crimson gaze, hesitating.
Sylus had his head tilted at the girl, frowning. However, quite different from his guests, not due to irritation but curiousity: "Come over here, shorty." Beckoning her closer Onychinus' leader observed how the child in her pj's, the plush tightly hugged and her right wrist bandaged slowly crossed the room on to the armchair he was sitting in: "What is it?"
Viewing the girl clinging up to her plushie with little tears in her eyes certainly brought up questions in the minds of those he had invitated to talk about further protocore trading. But of course non of them dared to actually ask where the girl came from, if she was a relative, his daughter even. They weren't so foolish to give him even the tiniest hint of whether a child could appear to be his weakness - after all they desired to live and benefit from their connections to this man. Extending a hand to examine the girl's wrist Sylus eyed at her expectantly. Again she rubbed her face with the other hand, the huge plush clamped in her arm. Her reply was mumbled and so quiet that it was barely audible to the others when she lowered her head.
The silver-haired however nodded and let got of her wrist before turning to face his guests again: "An urgent matter came up that has to be taken care of. Excuse me, gentlemen." Before Tommy could even think about stepping back, Sylus got up from his chair, swiftly placed an arm around the back of her thighs and lifted her up as if she didn't weight anything. The gasp got stuck in her throat, intuitionally the girl held on to his collar, her free hand reaching around his neck. She avoided looking at anyone, head lowered and eyes fixed on his silvery hair. When Sylus spoke again, his voice sounded definite: "We'll reschedule our meeting." No huffs or other infuriated or annoyed sounds left anyone's lips, the respect for Onychinus' leader they held was just as legendary as his infamous reputation. Instead, they politely nodded and gathered their documents while Sylus left the room with the child in his arms.
Who found back her voice out on the floor: "... you can put me down now!" Passing by the dude who had guarded the door Tommy stuck out her tongue at him. Sylus, watching her reflection in a nearby shiny glass vitrine, had the corners of his mouth twitching: "So? You seem to enjoy behaving like a little kid, don't mind me treating you like one." A chuckle was heard when Tommy started struggling, surely offended: "HEY! That Pajama was NOT my idea!" Not debating about her utterly missing the point the silver-head secured her with his other hand wrapped around her waist for further support: "But it looks good on you and you said, you like the fabric - he'd agree with me", Sylus added jokingly and shortly nudged the cat plushie in her arm. Then the expression in his eyes got serious: "Tell me about your dream."
Eventually Tommy calmed down on his arm and let her chin rest on the crown of his head. He was so tall, how curious that right now she felt even more meaningful than usually when she needed to look aloft to him: "... I tried climbing a fence but fell ... and then, there were wanderers everywhere." Talking about it brought the vivid images back to her mind and made Tommy shiver: "They were so many and I was by myself -" She stifled the sob right in time, yet felt the grip of his hands around her body tighten. In a gentle way.
"You won't be alone tonight." Again his voice held the definite tune from earlier but it was a lot warmer, looking at her the leader of Onychinus softly narrowed his eyes: "And there's nothing for you to be afraid of." Opening and closing what seemed to be a random door Sylus took the child into another room which was similary dim lit like the corridors; but the large bed taking up most of the space couldn't be overlooked anyway. Another closed door seemed to lead to who-knew-where and the sight out of the large window showed the blood red moon casting its glow over n109 zone's skyline.
The other walls were adorned with more enticing silhouettes and large paintings, an odd construction rested in a corner across from the bed. Pointing at it, Tommy frowned: "What's that?" The shimmering funnel almost looked like a huge loud hailer, like those used by police men sometimes.
Sylus felt the corners of his mouth twitching when he turned around, the child still on his arms: "It belongs to a record player - I'll show you tomorrow." Intuitionally Tommy frowned: "Why not now? I'm awake." Again she started struggling but his grip was safe. Not to say firm, when Sylus shook his head, raising a brow: "Now is not the time for you to be up and active, you should go back to sleep and rest. That's why you came to look for me, right?" Letting her down onto the bed the silver-haired eyed her carefully: "Everything else can wait until later."
Tommy shook her head, already dreading the idea of being haunted by more nightmares; she was actually up for protesting but the general serene athmosphere in this room had its own calming effect on the girl. Or it was thanks to the presence of the silver-haired. Snuggling up to her plush she crawled underneath the blanket and watched Sylus sitting down on the edge of the bed. Her eyes widened a bit: "You have to stay with me until I fell asleep." The bold but innocent demand made him chuckle when Sylus observed the child getting comfortable: "... alright, shorty. I'll stay with you and make sure there will be no more nightmares."
Learning to adore a crow dad or how I fell for Sylus
Me and Sylus, that's a long story. Starting with how I was unable to actually play LaDs for a long time after it got released because my phone couldn't handle the massive storage the game needed. LaDs and What in Hell is bad? being released pretty much around the same time however didn't leave me grieve for long - with the lore of WHB being quite intruiging and the card design combined with the extraordinary gameplay and adoring options clearly targeting adult players I was and still am having the time of my (h0rny) life.
Maybe I also struggled a bit to accept the 3D display of Xavier, Zayne and Rafayel at first. I hadn't known otome games or dating sims for long but to me, the essence of an otome game always meant the depiction of characters in cute, sexy, handsome and, most of all, colourful anime style. The animations felt too real to me and in an era of lgtbq+ inclusion and diversity, the MC being called 'heroine' put me off. But I blame my very first dating sim Obey Me! and its genderless MC which I had played for years - I simply wasn't used to a strictly female orientated game.
To make things even worse, a certain red lump's handsome human form was released in April '24, marking an April Fool's event in WHB and granting a popular side character to be showered in his fans' affection; Juno P. Cruel Orgasm 666 with his short white hair, crimson eyes and cute, pointy red-blackish horns, next to a rather derogatory face and ragged outfit immediately caught my and lots of other's eye, his popularity in the fandom later making the devs to honour Ppyong even with constant chapters in the WHB mainstory where he takes his human friend Minhyeok out on his motorcycle.
Maybe -maybe not- you get to understand now how very much I was irritated when I first saw pictures of Sylus on my twitter feed in July '24. People went like "LOOK AT HOW HANDSOME SYLUS IS" and "I'M GONNA MARRY THIS MAN". I even mistook the very first fanarts of Sylus and MC's for WHB Juno and Solomon's decendant before looking at the tags. It confused and agitated me and I was certain: that similarity couldn't be a coincidence and I even made posts on twitter with pics of Sylus and Juno next to each other. It was beyond my understanding why this dude was hyped so much when I suspected him to be just a copy of my precious red lump baby's handsome human appearance.
Thinking about how bad of a start Sylus and me had, it's not surprising that I struggled to actually find him likable. I never enjoyed main characters which were hyped a lot, throughout my child- and teenhood I always tended to be drawn to side characters which got less attention - and less lore, so I could create my stories around them. Sylus with his huge communities, loud mains and (and again I need to blame Obey Me!) smug smile triggered me in so many ways that I quite enjoyed mocking him, together with close moots. I even called him 'old man' and 'silver-haired Lucifer' since it was no secret that I maintained a love-hate relationship to Solmare's popular eldest demon brother. In hindsight however, the process of becoming a crowapple main actually taught me something new about myself regarding fictional characters.
After making quizzes just for fun to find out which one of the LaDs-guys would intrigue me, the results were quite interesting; Xavier who seemed soft and sweet made me question my current taste in fictional men and Sylus as a single red flag in my eyes had me discard the idea to ever start playing LaDs. What's with those quizzes anyway!? After another few weeks of happily focussing on my Pandaren roleplay in World of Warcraft, my online bestie lastly shared lovely pictures of thoughtful birthday gifts for her best irl friend in July - and moreover retweeted several posts from the LaDs official's twitter which had my resolve falter. I started asking around for help regarding emulators, browsed reddit to find the ones which would work best for me. It was no longer a mere idea to play LaDs.
It was a need.
Another befriended mootie served as a great support in finding the best emulator however installing LaDs via it became a hardcore battle; I actually took a whole afternoon to find and try four different emulators before Bluestacks eventually worked for me and had me admire Caleb's smile and his affectionate gesture once he turns around. I can't tell how often the intro song played on repeat that day and I guess I went to bed dreaming about Sarah Brightman's voice but I was so relieved and happy I made it. I also decided, to the distress of my online bestie, that Caleb would become a fave of mine.
Now I was a total newbie to the game and, by accidentally spoilering myself some of the mainstory's content beforehand, knew that it would take me some time to get to meet Sylus via mainstory content; only one or two weeks later I learned that I was able to meet both of my potential love interests via their seperated story branches and actually skip the mainstory. Usually I would have taken my sweet time drawing strong cards and ranking them up, so I could enjoy the whole gameplay at my pace but this time I was just incredibly impatient. I needed to know what was so fascinating about Sylus that fueled regular drama on twitter, made my bestie talk me into liking him - and caused that outrageous quiz result!
After I started to read Sylus' chapters my initial dislike got even stronger and the extreme contrast of how he treated MC vs. what my bestie had told me had me getting nausea in front of my screen (bravo Infold, btw!). I took a day to swallow the chapter's content and I have to emphasize that Luke and Kieran and their mischievous attitude were a great relief here. Not to talk about the minigames and screen interactions that helped me warming up to Sylus a lot, yet in a way that made me pull grimaces or curse my screen whenever he commented in battles or dropped one of his Destiny-Café lines.
Although Caleb's story branch caused similar reactions after reading, especially towards the ending, I wasn't that put off. Probably because I either was somewhat prepared after Sylus or I indeed simply fell in love with him smiling at me right after I start the game everyday. Creating my LaDs-account on twitter I quickly learned that I was a so-called 'crowapple-main', a person maining Sylus and Caleb equally. Despite my initial negative stance over Sylus and doubts regarding his first mainstory appearance, I was lucky drawing "Nightplumes" very early after I started playing, reading the card soon after and the short kindle part attracted me in a totally different way. MC was actually able to refuse him, to tease him, to make him pull a face, just to have Sylus smirk and turn around to admire the fireworks again.
That moment stuck in my head and to me that little scene means more than lovers can actually share. Sure, Sylus is in love with MC, that's how an otome works after all, but personally to me his love and his affection is on a whole other level than this of a(n) (over-)protective adopted brother like Caleb. It's yet deeper, clearer, more naturally. He's not a mere lover, he's a protector, a guardian, a confidant, a supporter beyond words. He knows your secrets yet keeps his lips sealed until you come to him on your own accord. He knows your struggles but will let you sort things out on your own, encouraging you and giving advices, to tell you just how proud he is of you afterwards. Unless it's beyond your power and he has to interfere to secure your well-being.
Holding onto this image of Sylus being a father figure indeed gives me greater comfort than trying to picture him as my lover; this doesn't mean I disapprove of Sylus mains or dislike the idea of him being a lover to most. That would be ridiculous. By becoming 'Sylus' adopted Gremlin' my usual hyperfixation is at ease and the ship of Caleb and my MC feels more natural to me. Call me old-fashioned, the idea of my MC dating two men at once seems absurd. Again, this is just my own mindset, I'm not as world-weary trying to talk people into something as others may are.
Now the question probably pops up: "If you see Sylus as your dad and Caleb as your lover, do you like Caleb more?" The answer seems to be an easy "Yes!" if the most important person in fandom's eyes is usually the one who gets to fvck your MC while dads in terms of parents (and not in terms of 'dilf') appear to be less popular. My online bestie asked me what I want for my birthday and if I 'still like Caleb best?' And I had a bit of trouble trying to explain how I'm not quite attracted to Sylus when it comes to intimate stuff - but even more regarding everything else. Their justified reaction makes me reason that my sentiment towards Sylus seems rather rare, so I came up with the idea to just write it all down.
I've been playing LaDs now for one and a half months with roughly a month of dilligently raising my affinity of Sylus - there has to be a reason as to why he's the highest in ranks although I try my best to balance him and Caleb out. In the end the old man cannot be as despicable as I thought at first and even though Caleb is on his heels in terms of affinity I got the feeling that Sylus will always be a teeny-weeny tad bit ahead of him. But I simply can't call myself a Sylus-main, there's too much Caleb on my twitter feed.
So, go ahead - fvck my dad all you want, I don't mind. I'll be scheming pranks in the background with Luke and Kieran and relish in the fun of being a fictionally spoiled little gremlin.
"Dear passengers, the flight 150-0 to Azure Island will be delayed for two hours. We apologise for the inconvenience."
Holding her breath Rosa couldn't suppress the irritated twitch of her features; at first her suitcase fastener broke down when they were about to depart, of course they missed the bus for that reason. Moreover, Linkon City traffic seemed cursed, so they had just arrived last minute to check in their luggage - to just listen to those unpleasent news. Rosa had been utterly strained due to the rushed arrival on the airport.
And now this delay. Puffing out her cheeks the brunette dropped onto a bench, exhausted: "... if we had known earlier, we would have taken our time", the girl sighed and pouted, her left eye still twitching little. Xavier who had hurried alongside her without a single word of complaint ever since they both left their apartment house tilted his head little: "Most likely. But now we made it here, safely and with our bags already stored." The soft sound of his voice was balm for Rosa's ears and immediately eased her tension. Intuitionally she scooted closer to him, huddling up to the platin-blond. Who reacted immediately, wrapping an arm around his beloved, Xavier rested his head on her shoulder: "There's no point in being upset ... let's take a little break."
Rosa was almost tempted to close her eyes, but the serenity didn't last long; when the voices of Zayne and Valentina reached her ears, the brunette started looking out and waving at them: "Morninggggg!"
While Valentina stepped closer with a big smile, her black-haired attendant frowned, apparently surprised: "Now, that's a coincidence - I didn't think we'd meet you two here." Xavier who seemed to just have snapped out of his little nap blinked a few times before focussing at first on the physician and afterwards on Valentina with a smile: "Good morning - this is quite a surprise." Rubbing his neck the platin blond eyed Valentina curiously: "You're heading out for vacation, too?"
"Yes, but our flight got delayed", Val snorted quite agitated and rubbed her eyes before blinking at Xavier and Rosa: "Where are you going to?" Without another comment she simply took Zayne's hand and pulled the somewhat perplexed doctor after her to take a seat on the bench. Though Zayne had gotten used to a lot of her behaviour, his girlfriend still managed to make him speechless from time to time. She just sat down next to him, eyeing them full of expectation.
"Chirpee Island!", another loud voice suddenly disrupted them, closely followed by a "Hush!" Almost synchronic everyone on the bench turned around to spot another well-known face, attended by a certain artist. Who didn't bother distorting his face rather displeased: "Do you have to be so loud all the time?" Elizabeth felt the grip around her hand tightening and smirked little: "Don't worry - you'll have me all to yourself soo enough."
Blushing Rafayel subtly pulled his 'Miss Bodyguard' closer to him when the pairing stepped near the bench to greet their co-workers and friends; Val and Rosa who had already worked together with Ellie on seperate missions both heartily hugged the girl: "It's amazing you're here, too!"
Meanwhile Zayne had adjusted his glasses and eyed his male acquaintances: "I got this right, you're on a trip to Chirpee Island as well?" Xavier shrugged and nodded slightly: "It's not that we planned it beforehand - the lottery tickets hid in the most curious packages." A snort next to him made Zayne tilt his head at the painter: "Tell me about it - I found mine after opening a new set of paint brushes." Now Rafayel softly flicked his bangs and turned to Zayne: "How about you?"
The medic shrugged: "Is it important? ... I'm in bad need of vacation and so is she." Nodding towards Valentina the black-haired sighed: "I hope the delay won't get worse." Following his gaze Xavier gently narrowed his deep blue eyes: "Truly, they all deserve it." The sight of Rosa's huge bow bobbing as the girl kept chatting lively was warming his heart.
That was when Rafayel patted the other's shoulders: "As long as we all don't have to share a room - does someone want a snack?"
His voice was loud enough for the girls to listen to it and pause shortly - but before Rosa, Val or Ellie could even open their mouths, another voice was heard: "Did someone say snacks?" Val immediately distorted her face recognising its owner and Xavier tilted his head, but Zayne, Ellie and Rosa welcomed him smiling: "Good morning, Caleb!" The DAA Farspace Fleet Colonel, now of course off duty, carried a smile on his face, a little bag with sweets and snacks on his elbow - and a dozing girl on his back who was snuggled up against his shoulder. Twitching the corners of her mouth Rosa softly pinched one of her cheeks to which Lucy squinched her nose and nuzzled Caleb's hair. Ellie couldn't suppress a chuckle: "This also is a member of the infamous Onychinus - kind of adorable", the spy hunter commented while Caleb adjusted his grip around her knees.
"Careful though", he stated, his face expression turning serious: "This now adorable Onychinus birdie brings chaos and mayhem once she wakes up. Compared to her, dealing with Sylus is a walk in the park." When Caleb got the soft but irritated mumble against his skin, he smirked little below a gentle, tingling blush: "I love you, too, Sternchen." One moment later he put her down and handed Lucy the bag who started to give out what as there for snacks; soon each one of the group enjoyed his or her favorite snack. Apart from Valentina who just took a single bite after she bravely endured Lucy pouting at her. She and Caleb simply had a plain difficult history.
"Hmmm ... dis is s-vort ov unex-spected", Rafayel stated while slurping on his lollipop, quite pleased with the fact that Ellie was hugging him from behind: "Right?! Like, we're going to be on vacation all together!" That was when Lucy distorted her face: "Unfortunately, yeah -" For a second the girl with heterochromia frowned as Val suddenly began to beam and Caleb smiled widely, stepping aside to - do what actually? The reply of the dark, sonore voice was nonchalant and dry: "Unfortunately the killjoy is going to enjoy this fancy vacation with his friends, love and favorite little gremlin."
Turning around Lucy had just enough time to pull a grimace before Sylus turned his attention to Caleb, greeting his friend with a vivid handshake and a hug: "Nice to see you again - it's been a while." The otherworldly beauty close to him practically clung onto the silver-haired other's hand and offered the other one a gentle smile: "Good morning." Caleb simply nodded and replied the gesture; he knew from Lucy that the shy, reclusive being was honouring him by mere talking. Lying an arm around her Sylus guided the halovian closer to the group. Her anyway porcelain-coloured teint went even paler but she had learned to feel safe in his embrace.
With Sylus to the right and Lucy to the left Asphodel was introduced to the rest of the group and surprisingly well got along with Xavier's soft, relaxed attitude and Valentina's great ability of empathy. Ellie, Rosa and Rafayel next to Zayne and Caleb in the meanwhile were absorbed in the brochure about Chirpee Island and all the attractions it had to offer: "I'm looking forward to the hotel - due to the organizer it's supposed to be a great example for sustainability", Ellie resumed while Zayne pointed at pictures of the beach: "I'd like to know about wind and waves - how about you?" With a smile Zayne eyed at Caleb who nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement: "You bet I do, too."
Another three hours passed by until the little party could actually -and finally- board the plane. Xavier didn't even get a hint about the safety instructions; as soon as the him and Rosa had found their seats, the platin-blond snuggled up to his girl and closed his eyes. Rafayel and Ellie indeed quarreled shortly about who was to sit by the window before Zayne was able to settle it and suggested that they should take turns. Sinking into his own seat right behind the excentric artist and his 'bodyguard' who in fact started making out without a single care in the world, the medic rubbed his temples before Val gently kissed his jawbone. A clear sign to relax and it usually worked wonders.
A few rows ahead Lucy and Caleb were engrossed in another kind of discussion; the girl that never had taken a step into an airplane before and therefore was granted the privilege of the seat at the window fumbled with her earplugs and smartphone and simply did not want to see how she shouldn't be allowed to use it during start and landing. Eventually a young stewardess, not much older than Lucy herself, offered the kindness and patience to shortly explain the risk of a crash "due to the sensitive and complicated electronic system of the plane's engine. The signals of a technical device such as a smartphone or tablet might manipulate the plane's electronics during start and landing."
That made the usual loud and brazen girl in fact shut up and gulp. Without another word she turned off her phone, nodding at the stewardess as she pointed at a little blank sign above her head: "During start and landing this will be lighted red. Once it turns green you're free to use any electronic device." Caleb, who had tried it with all sorts of academic explanations which were plain natural to him, dropped into his seat with a relieved sigh: "... thank you, Miss." When the stewardess left with a light-hearted chuckle, Lucy stuck out her tongue: "It's not my fault that you suck at explaining stuff properly!" Closing his eyes for a split second and taking a deeper breath, Caleb turned around to her, his features subtly twitching when he leaned closer, only for his girl to hear: "... I'm looking forward to see your big, fat mouth sucking on something else when we land."
Only two rows behind them Sylus rejoiced in the silence which was pure bliss. Having Asphodel seated and helping her to fasten the belt, the silver-haired felt the corners of his mouth twitching as she looked out of the window: "I didn't think I would ever fly again like this." Almost in awe the halovian's magnificent eyes twinkled excited when she turned around to face Sylus again. Onychinus' leader smiled with his crimson eyes gently narrowed when he cupped her cheek. A comforting shiver ran down her spine when Asphodel felt her man's lips touching her forehead: "... and it's all thanks to you, dove. I'm so proud of you."
The flight lasted several hours, only disrupted by repeated snack and drink offerings from the stewards, serving lunch, two quite strong turbulences that had the girls and Rafayel cling onto their men and Ellie, with Zayne later wondering if Caleb could have manoeuvred them better and a collective change of shifts when it came to sleep schedules; while Rosa, Caleb and Zayne discussed their favorite beach activities, Val, Xavier and Lucy tried to come up with a trip schedule: "... seriously, I'm on vacation - I don't need to run around every day from dusk till dawn." Puffing out her cheeks Valentina closed her eyes: "At least give me one day in between as breather."
"It's only two weeks though and the island is quite big! There's a lot to see and we won't get such an opportunity again for sure!", Lucy responded and made quite a serious face: "Sylus will agree with me and Caleb, too." The soft voice of Xavier behind her made Lucy turn around: "Still, a day off won't hurt." With the ever so gentle smile on his lips, the platin-blond eyed first Valentina, then Lucy: "How does that sound: two days of cultural activities, one day relaxing at the pool or the beach. We won't miss all too much and still have our deserved relaxation." Val nodded and needed to suppress a somewhat toxic remark: "Your - your boyfriend will keep up with your energy, don't worry." Lucy was either too excited or didn't really care; she didn't point it out in front of Xavier and Val had vowed to herself that she would be happy for her. They all deserved to live happy lovelives after all, even when they had chosen him of all respectful people in Linkon City ...
"Oh my - that rock looks like a dolphin! Look at this!", Ellie and Rosa almost exclaimed at once and just a few minutes later the captain announced the soon-to-be arrival on Azure Island: "... in a few minutes we will proceed with landing in Laguna City. Kindly return to your seat, fasten your seat belts and turn off all electronic devices. ..."
these are some clothes/accessories i think she'd wear! her main colors are usually shades of black/white/blue but during the cooler months she mainly wears shades of beige/brown/grey. Her jewelry is mainly silver (she wears both gold+silver but rarely chooses gold)
first things first- im a firm believer sylus got her the dress- yes im talking about this one;
the art piece i got of them was a custom version of it
secondly, i just feel like she would have some variant of high-waist pants + puffy/loose sleeves combo (bonus if there's corsets involved) as she's always been in dresses/skirts her whole life, so she would see them as more 'freeing' to wear
im sure Sylus would see certain heel designs & grab them for her. some examples being;
some outfits she wears out to the beach, first 3 outfits are what she'd wear to the water but bottom 2 would be to wear while staying on land (i couldnt find what i had in mind but the 4th outfit was close enough ; v;' + you can probs throw in any sundress sylus finds while shopping lol)
during autumn/winter she likes wearing big sweaters since she says 'they're like blankets i dont have to take off' & keep her warmer then several layers (sylus notices his sweaters go missing during this time so he usually buys extra for her too) her favorite style of sweaters are usually chunky knit ones
some formal attire she would wear to events;
She's convinced she doesnt look good in red but sylus will convince her, one clothing at a time if he has to
"Hm ... not quite ... well, yeah, that looks - ugh, NO! ... that color does more for your skin color ... GODDAMN, WHAT'S WITH THAT PATTERN - sorry, but that's like last decade's fashion ..."
Asphodel had flinched when the voice of the girl rose up so sudden; Lucy and her had known themselves for quite some while now, still her unpredicted outbursts left the halovian partly shocked and partly amused. However now she frowned when Lucy held up two different summer outfits: "Is that so important? To me, both look great."
The younger one intuitionally distorted her face, in a somewhat cute way though: "Pardon me?! According to Sylus I'm responsible to find you a suiting summer outfit after Luke and Kieran failed so brillantly. He's putting ALL his hopes on me - you understand that I just can't let you walk around in anything but superpretty and gorgeous clothes!" Puffing out her cheeks Lucy kept rambling while she scanned the impressing closed of her friend. After three more hours she was finally happy with what she had chosen and Asphodel was utterly exhausted; that human's energy seemed limitless!
~*~
Coffee, finally! And something to eat on top of that.
Tired but immensely happy with today's work Val had just received her lunch menu when her phone buzzed. The long-haired felt her features twitching, right eye narrowed when she rummaged through her many body bags in search for her phone before giving up and simply having a look on her watch. Connected to her phone, she could also receive calls and texts there.
Anyway, who dared to disturb her during delayed lunch?!
Val's frown softened a lot when she read the text message. If she was free tomorrow and if she would mind dropping by Akso Hospital. The corners of her mouth wandered upwards on their own accord and Val felt her cheeks warming up. What a question. Of course she would meet with Zayne - only because she had to get there and take her monthly check up results though!
'Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then.' A cute happy snowman emoji followed and Val sent one back before getting back to eating. For some reason her lunch tasted even better now than five minutes ago and Valentina savored every bite before she finished and paid.
Thankfully, her appartment wasn't far away anymore.
~*~
Rosa held her breath, eyes fixed on her opponent; she felt her heart pounding in her chest when she carefully reached out with one hand, her eyes stuck on the enemy -
HA! Quickly she drew another card while the platin-blond in front of her seemed to fall in microsleep before Xavier bobbed up his head suddenly and rubbed his face: "... I'm sleepy ...", he commented his moment of abstraction and frowned at his cards: "I see ... they haven't gotten better." Still he placed a number three on the same-colored playfield which had Rosa puff out her cheeks: "You don't need any better cards!", she retorted with a pout and sighed when she drew another card. Although Xavier claimed to not exactly remember the game, he was ridiculous good at it.
In fact there was only one cup left and neither Xavier nor her didn't seem to own a satisfying card to put on the respective field. Yet Xavier had scored a lot of points with just one move - he lay ten points before her and the match got even more exciting when they both kept drawing cards. Then Rosa however widened her eyes and forced herself to breathe normally through Xavier's move. When he still didn't place a card, she couldn't suppress the gasp anymore and practically threw the red six on the red cup playfield: "THAT'S IT! I WON, I WON!"
Xavier didn't mind his neighbour voicing her triumph and sighed relieved, putting back his hand cards so she didn't get to see all of the red numbers he had drawn. On the Kitty Counter Rosa had just exchanged a coin, opened the bag - and stared at Xavier with huge eyes: "... you need to look at this!"
~*~
"Stay like this - yes, that's good ... perfect! - don't move! Good ... very good -"
Elizabeth kept smiling although she felt like taking the first best thing -likely either a brush or a yet fresh color palette- and throw it right into his face. When Rafayel had called her earlier, not without poking her trice beforehand, he had mentioned an urgent emergency. So, acting against her better judgement, Ellie had hurried to arrive at the studio of the excentric artist.
Only to find out that the oh-so-urgent emergency turned out to be Rafayel insisting on her to help him catch a unique resemblance of different colors: "This is what I'm paying you for, isn't it? ... next time I call you, make sure to respond quickly! ... don't let me wait like this again." In between a few brushes Rafayel paused, his eyes narrowed confidantly, his voice remarkably softer.
Sighing Ellie nodded and cursed herself inwardly right after; the little diva knew exactly how to pull her strings and his 'Miss Bodyguard' always fell for it. However sitting here and observing the artist's doing, listening to the gentle rustling of his brushes dancing over the canvas was inexpressibly relaxing and enough to make Elizabeth forget about her earlier irritation.
Even more so when Rafayel opened another box of newly aquired brushes. Stunned and amazed both blinked at the snippet that announced a lottery winning.
Summer, sun and special moments - receiving tickets for a two week trip to Chirpee Island on quite different ways, five couples are about to experience quite some adventures. Together - and on their own, with just their dearest ones.
This one is based on the "Midsummer And You"-event which took place in August '25. The couples (I got allowance to use all the MCs mentioned) are the following:
Xavier x Rosa
Zayne x Valentina
Rafayel x Elizabeth
Sylus x Asphodel (@n109dove)
Caleb x Luscinia (me)
I haven't been playing for long and am doing my best to portray all characters as much canon as possible. Also I'm no native English speaker, my texts aren't proof-read.
Out of everything Tommy had imagined happening next after she was caught trespassing, her being invited for dinner surely didn’t fit her expectation. Still there were some remaining doubts; if she wasn’t to be poisoned or killed otherwise, what was the purpose of all of this? Why feed a stray kid which had been causing trouble? Usually, she’d brace herself for severe punishment in such a situation.
Was it their aim to bribe her? To give away the other kids? To let Sasha and the others pay who acted as mediators between her and her employer? Intuitionally Tommy clenched her fist when she was led to the bathroom; she would never betray the others!
Struggling herself out of her clothes with one hand wasn’t easy but the hot water pouring down on her was pure bliss. Dabbling with lotion and fooling around with foam in the shower, the girl took her sweet time and didn’t care in the least about drops and splashes of water on the ground when she got out and dried herself as best as she could. Her long, felted and soaking wet hair carelessly dripping on the fluffy bathmats, Tommy eventually wrapped herself into a soft woolen, reddish bathrobe that was way too big for her. Then the kid finally left the bathroom through another door.
The sight of the large table filled with all sort of possible and -for Tommy’s narrowed horizon- impossible dishes made the girl catch her breath; potatoes, vegetables, fish, pasta, beef, fruits, chicken, bowls with salad, several pots with either soup or sauces, more glassy vessels filled with different colored liquids than she could count and, and this was the literal icing on the cake, a huge multileveled plate with cookies, sweets, cupcakes, little tarts and other delicacies Tommy once would have wished to see gathered at once. Still, a lot on this table was plainly unknown to her but the mere amount of food left her amazed.
Who was supposed to eat all of this?
Behind her a soft chuckle was heard: “What are you waiting for? Sit down, shorty.” Gasping the girl spun around, just to face the crimson red eyes of the man with the silvery hair from earlier. With a frown and a little hint of defiance she distorted her face: “What are you doing here? Wasn’t I supposed to meet your bastard of a boss?”
Her artless, blunt question drew another chuckle from his lips however his eyes narrowed slightly; this child would absolve a few language lessons in future. Tilting his head he strode past her, sitting down on the other end of the table: “That’s what I said, correct. And now, this bastard of a boss is right here.” His lips curled into a smirk that would have felt terrifying if Tommy hadn’t been so perplexed and infuriated: “You fooled me! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”
Nonchalantly her addressee poured himself a glass of whatever, before his crimson eyes met hers again: “Because I wanted you to get to know me – just like I got to know you.” Again, the left corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly when he took his glass: “That’s rather fair, don’t you think?” As composed as he appeared to be, Tommy didn’t miss how his eyes rested on her for the whole time. Her lower lip pushed forwards at his words: “Are you fucking kidding me?! You don’t know me at all!”
His features twitched little, the only sign of annoyance while he observed the pouting child: “Getting to know each other is a process. In fact, with every second passing by, I learn a little more about you.” Taking another sip from his glass, Onychinus’ leader began to eat. In between two bites the silvery-haired tilted his head at the inert girl: “… help yourself, shorty. Who knows when you will have your next meal.”
This was when Tommy finally opened her mouth, irritated at first: "Fucking stop it -" before she continued, a lot less hostile: “… are you holding me hostage? Am I your prisoner?” The second question was barely audible, yet his crimson gaze narrowed gently: “Right now you’re my guest and although you might leave as you wish, I don’t find myself sending you off while you’re injured.” Biting her lips the girl glanced down onto her bandaged right wrist. When Tommy looked up at him again, she frowned: “… what do you want in exchange? I’ll be indebted to you if I eat any of this and I don’t like that.” Pouting she observed how the corners of his mouth twitched little but the expression in his eyes had gotten stern: “Your promise not to put your nose into potential explosive matters once more will suffice.” Pausing shortly, he observed how the child grimaced: “Dunno if I can do that – but maybe I can stay away from your storehouses.”
Then finally the girl helped herself. A slice of meat here, a potato there, lots of mushrooms and salad, with one glass of soda after another: “… do you treat all thefts like this?”, was her artless question when she just reached out to grab a huge chocolate cupcake: “… I should have burgled your stores long ago.” The innocent sound of her voice made him laugh: “Would that make me more amicable?” After a pause Tommy observed how the man shook his head: “Certainly, not. Usually, thefts don’t get away like this … it’s different when they are children.” Now his crimson gaze was fixed on hers and the girl found it difficult to look away: “… so – I get a second chance, yes?”
For a moment her dialogue partner didn't say a single word. Taking a sip from his drink he leaned back, his eyebrows raising slightly. Though he never broke eye contact with the girl: "Don't waste it", was his short, almost casual reply but the tune of his voice and the expression in those crimson orbs held something Tommy had never seen before. While she was chewing on her gigantic cupcake, trying to think of a potential meaning, the girl leant back in her chair.
And let out a deep sigh eventually; ages had passed since she had been this full: "... shit, I'm done for ... where's my bed?" What was meant to be a joke made him getting up from his chair: "Come on, shorty", he gestured the kid to follow him, who puffed out her cheeks: "I told you, stop calling me shorty finally!" Infuriated she stomped after the silver-haired whose shoulders trembled slightly amused: "My apologies - Tommy." When he turned around the child felt the urge to punch that smirk out of his face - if she just could reach that high!
Wandering along the floor made her irritation slowly fade into curiosity; everything about this house carried a royal, otherworldly athmosphere and Tommy, who had only seen a few old-fashioned structures from the outside in a more vintaged district of Linkon City, intuitionally imagined that this must been how these buildings looked like on the inside. With valuable art paintings being presented on the walls and costly chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Just when she was about to imagine how the furnishing of the rooms would look like, Tommy suddenly paused; very faintly as if from far away a soft melody reached her ears. At least for a split second; frowning the girl came to stand, trying hard to listen. Without success, the floor and the corridors appeared to be silent.
What a curious house ...
"Keep up", the voice of the silver-haired resounded from the walls and when Tommy looked ahead, she realized how far their gap had gotten. Pouting the child hurried to catch up with him: "You're too fast! I've had so much to eat, I can't go any faster!" Again a chuckle was heard: "Poor girl - there we are." Suddenly he came to stand in front of a door and turned the handle, opening it: "It's quite unused but that shouldn't bother you."
If there was anything Tommy had been amazed about today, the sight she got to see now beat it all. When the door was pushed open in front of her she found herself in a childhood dream. The girl didn't recognise how her jaw dropped when she took in the breathtaking view of what would probably been any kids' paradise; plushies, toys, watercolors and crayons, several music instruments, gaming consoles, puzzles, some old-fashioned music player, even a trampoline was there. The wall with the window was crowned by a large desk, alongside another one a tall shelf was placed, holding numerous books. The opposite wall was occupied with a cosy bed, quite as huge as the one she was used to share with another three kids. And now she would have it all to herself?
It was hard to believe.
"For as long as you stay here, this room will be yours." The sound of his voice got her back to reality when Tommy looked up to him, her features twitching restless. She wanted to say something but she couldn't find actual words; observing how his head tilted she got him smiling. Genuine this time: "I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well." Only when he was about to turn around, Tommy finally won back her voice: "... how should I call you? ... I won't call you 'boss', I don't work for you." As he paused, glancing back over his shoulder Tommy observed how the corners of his mouth twitched amused: "Right - I'm Sylus." And with this he took his leave.
When she closed the door behind her the child found herself in silence, intuitionally thinking about the past few hours. How had it come to this? She was caught red-handed while stealing, kidnapped, brought here, got her wrist treated, ate to her fullest - and now this? Was it just some chaotic dream she would wake up from soon? Because although Tommy could see the wholesome interior of this room, it was so hard to believe it. Likely anything bad would happen soon and she would atone for what she had been about to do.
However, at some point sleepiness took over; the girl had eaten a lot and her overall day had been exhausting. What was about to happen, would certainly happen - so trying to make the best out of her current situation wasn't the worst idea. Still she was cautious choosing one of the bigger plushies and climbing onto the bed. Though closing her eyes and trying to sleep, Tommy couldn't fight the troubling thoughts circling in her mind over and over again ... until she heard it again, like from far distance. It was a beautiful song, melodic and sad, and the longer she listened to it, Tommy's troubled mind finally came to rest.
The soft gleam of moonlight falling through the window of her room drew gentle patterns onto the ceiling of her room; a pretty mobile formed little dancing stars circling over the walls. The girl was sleeping long ago and certainly missed the calming spectacle. Like the crow sitting on the window sill and tilting its head at the sleeping child. Silent and motionless like an idol it kept watching the occurrences in the room until the little hand of a sweet wall clock had moved over half of its face. Just then the peculiar bird spread its wings and flew away.
