𓆩♡𓆪 Your one-stop shop for all Love and Deep Space content! Reactions, headcanons, and all the fluff,angst, and spice you could ask for!
⟡ Updated: [3/12/25]
Hi, I'm River!
🌸 They/Them | Writer & LADS Enthusiast ✍️
💖 Reactions: OPEN – Feel free to send requests!
🌟 Here's My MC!
⊱ ────── {All LI Reactions} ────── ⊰
𓆩♡𓆪 [SFW] "You're Safe With Me" - LI Reactions to MC's Nightmares
𓆩♡𓆪 [SFW] When You're Hurt - Each LI Reacts to Seeing MC Injured
𓆩♡𓆪 [SFW] Accidental Confessions- Each LI Reacts to MC Saying "I Love You for the First Time
⊱ ────── {Headcannons} ────── ⊰
𓆩♡𓆪 Coming soon!
⊱ ────── {Individual LI Content} ────── ⊰
𓆩♡𓆪 [NSFW] The Hive Protocore - Zayne x You Fan Fic (Complete)
THE HIVE PROTOCORE [ Zayne x You Fanfic] Chapter One - Blood On the Ground
Chapter 1 Preview [STORY AFTER BREAK]
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🩸 When a massive wanderer attack shatters the peace of Lincoln City, you find yourself pinned beneath rubble, the air thick with smoke and your heartbeat a frantic drum in your chest. But then, a familiar hand pulls you from the chaos — Dr. Zayne Li, the surgeon you haven’t seen in two years.
🌙 Old wounds and unresolved feelings rise to the surface as you fight to stay alive, but something darker stirs beneath the city streets. There are secrets in the blood, and nothing is as it seems. The line between ally and enemy blurs, and the past you thought you left behind claws its way back to the surface.
💥 You should have walked away, but it’s too late for that now.
Growing up, when you were asked, “What’s your greatest fear?” your peers would say clowns or tight spaces. But you always thought of Blue, the class turtle, encased in glass. Trapped. Maybe it was a strange thing for a seven-year-old to fear—but now, with your leg pinned beneath the beam of a crumbling building and your throat coated in ash, you feel that same creeping sensation of fear. The fear of being Blue.
Your eyes are burning as you try to focus on what's in front of you. Rapid blinks produce uncontrollable tears, and you can only make out shapes and colors at first. There is a car on fire in the middle of the intersection, the smell is sour in your throat and, though you are sure it's a safe enough distance from you, you can still feel the flicker of heat on your skin. Traffic has completely stopped, cars piled on top of each other in a twist of metal and blood. A traffic light leans precariously at one corner of the street.
There are people around, lots of them actually, more than when you had first been knocked unconscious by a frenzied wanderer. This wanderer had been a tank of a monster, it sat on all four legs with a shell of armor and a spiked tail that had cut through the side of a building. You had been upright, the steel of your pistol hot from how many times you’d fired into the invincible thing. And then darkness had taken you.
When you had been awake, the streets had been filled with civilians, multicolored clothes gently rustling in the spring wind of Lincoln City, the sun had been setting and the sky was a pretty peach and orange, like a fruit basket. Now, the streets were filled with black and white. The black official coats of hunters, armed to the teeth with disaster-level gear, and the white of combat medics and their assistants.
You still couldn't hear anything. The ringing in your ears was slowly dimming down, and the rest was static against your skull. In addition to whatever state your pinned leg was in, you must have also hit your head pretty hard. This is why you were surprised when a bright light hit your eyes, making you shrink away in pain. The light bobbed up and down in your right eye and then again in your left. When the light went away, you felt your heart thudding hard in your chest. It seemed to be the only thing you could hear outside of the ringing.
Doctor Zayne Li.
He’s frowning and speaking. Perhaps to you, but you're not sure and you can’t really hear what he has to say anyway. It's mostly a muffle. His warm hand is on your face, and you get new views of the scene as he turns your head this way and that. His bright white surgeon's robes are sooted with ash and dirt. He asks you a question, and you blink at him, trying to impossibly read the words from his lips, but he’s speaking too fast, or perhaps you weren't all that good at making out what he had to say.
When you don’t respond, he makes that face that lets you know he’s cursed. His eyebrows furrow and his lips turn down in a harsh line when he curses. You giggle a little, wishing you could hear what the usually so composed man was saying.
He disappears from view, and as you try to follow him with your head, you realize just how painful moving is at this moment. But he’s back in seconds, this time with a mix of people, a blend of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Hunters, emergency responders, and combat medics all crowd your peripheral vision. Zayne is crouched next to you; you can only see the top of his black shock of hair. They all seem to be looking towards the man, and after a beat, their faces stretch into effort as they lift the cement block off your leg.
You instinctively try to scoot out and over, but there is no need. Gentle, large hands are picking you up and sliding you out of the trap. It's your first sigh of relief since this all began. No more being like Blue.
Free at last, you feel your hearing starting to come back—the crackle of the car fire, the shouts of hunters and medics. By the time Zayne has placed you down on the sidewalk, you start to regain some of your senses.
You flinch when Zayne snaps his fingers on either side of your ear, the sound reverberating against your skull. He watches your face carefully.
“Your hearing is coming back.” He says. No Hey, hello, how have you been over the last two years. Just a clinical gaze and a frown.
“Bend.” He says, grabbing your previously pinned leg. You look down and see that it's not as bad as you feared, but not so great either. “Slowly.” He says after you start to try to move it immediately, fear that every bone in your leg has been crushed.
You pause, take a deep breath, and move with him as he checks the mobility of your leg. Your face scrunches in pain and you can't help the gasp that falls past your lips as he brings your leg closer and closer towards your body. He pauses, eyes watching your face intently, and you have to look away.
“It will heal,” he says after a moment, his voice soft but his tone shrouded in something you’d long since given up on figuring out.
He knows you too well, you think. Your fear of your leg being crushed had less to do with pain and more with the real possibility that you’d never be cleared for hunter work again. 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., Monday through Friday, you eat, sleep, and breathe wanderer guts. You hardly take a day off, to everyone's irritation. But you didn't care. Hunters saved lives. Little kids, pregnant women, old men in the park playing chess.
“If—” Zayne’s voice pulls you back to the present. “You let me take a look at it before you go running off.”
You hadn’t said a word to him yet. You weren't sure the right ones would come out. At least he thought you were potentially concussed and hopefully wouldn’t question it.
“High priority patients over here!” calls out a field medic, waving his hand at a group of young-looking emergency workers carrying limp or burned bodies in their arms. They start setting them down near and around you.
“I shouldn’t be in this section,” you say dazedly. You catch that familiar frown on Zayne’s face as you try to move. When he realizes you're trying to stand, a single firm hand presses you down against the sidewalk.
“I understand you hit your head,” he says sharply. “But if you could try to listen to your doctor for once, that would be very helpful, Y/N.”
You huff out an angry laugh. “My doctor?” you bite out. “You haven’t been that for two whole years.”
A shadow of something passes over his face, but it’s too quick for you to read. Before you can process it, someone else is calling his name. He turns, eyes focusing in like a camera on the situation in front of him. He glances back at you.
“Stay here. Don’t move,” he demands, his dirty jacket rustling in the wind as he stands and runs to assist another injured civilian.
You sigh and lean back a little, trying to get your bearings. You’re on Apricot Street and Main—two very familiar streets. As you look up at the still-intact building behind you, you see that this freak wanderer accident is right at the front doors of Akso Hospital. Great.
Pulling your wrist to your face, you see that your hunter-assigned watch is on the fritz, a crack running down the middle of the watch face. You have no idea what time it is, but judging by the moon’s high rise in the sky, it’s been at least an hour since this whole thing started.
Your eyes carefully scan the scene again. Zayne’s white coat is hard to ignore among the black hunters’ uniforms and the now-arriving pencil-skirted reporters. All of this fades into background noise when you hear a sound. You turn, slowly—your head still pounding—to your right, a less trafficked side of the incident, and spot a woman, whimpering and crawling away from what is unmistakably a wanderer.
You don’t think—you just move. The sharp pains in your leg are nothing compared to the panic filling your lungs and throat. One second too late and this woman could be mauled by the mean-looking monster stalking her.
You fumble for your gun as you limp forward, slower than you’ve ever been before.
Bang. Warning shot.
BANG. BANG.
None of your bullets are finding purchase on the hard outer layer of the wanderer. The creature doesn’t turn its attention from the woman, continuing its slow, deliberate approach as she whimpers.
You’re practically dragging your leg by the time you reach her.
“Ma’am, it’s alright—”
Words die in your throat as you see what looks like fire on her face. Her eye is glowing with a strange, unfamiliar symbol, and her lips are moving, but the sound coming out is more like an animal call than a whimper now that you’re closer. The woman is badly injured—cuts and bruises cover her body, though some look faded and healed while others are fresh.
“Ma’am...?” you breathe out, wondering if you hit your head a little too hard. The woman makes a sharp clicking noise, and the wanderer’s head snaps in your direction. You feel like someone has poured cold water down your back as it immediately begins to charge you, its red eye flaring in the moonlight.
Shit.
You raise your gun again, your shoulder screaming in protest. You aim down sights, but your arm, your body, your entire core are too shaky.
Shit.
The wanderer doesn’t get very far. You feel a chill up the back of your neck, and in seconds, the creature is frozen in its tracks, its entire lower body encased in ice. You and the woman gasp. You turn as much as you can to see Zayne, his white coat gone now, his hand outstretched, the crisscrossed jacket patterns of frost snaking up his hands and wrists. He exhales, and his breath fogs in the air, visible even in the springtime.
“You are incapable of following the simplest directions,” he says after a moment, stepping forward. Emergency temporarily solved, you turn back to the woman, who has begun making louder, more frantic sounds. She’s cawing and clicking urgently, the red, glowing symbol on her face burning brighter and brighter. The wanderer, still stuck in the ice, vibrates slightly, the ice cracking as it struggles.
You turn to Zayne, who seems to be watching the scene carefully, a deep frown etched into his face. The woman, still bleeding into the cement of the sidewalk, starts to quiet down again, this time involuntarily. The mark on her face begins to dim as her body weakens.
Zayne surges forward as if suddenly remembering his profession. By the time the strange sounds stop, he’s lifting her wrist, his face grim. “She lost a lot of blood,” he states softly.
As the woman passes, the wanderer, still struggling against its icy prison, stops moving. The red light in its eye flickers out like a dying computer, its body going still, as if accepting its fate as a popsicle.
“Please tell me you saw that too,” you say after a moment, your eyes meeting Zayne’s. His eyes flicker back to yours. Something was... off. Wanderers are hive-minded, practically brainless monsters. They attack. They destroy. This behavior was odd—odd in the way that makes your skin crawl.
“I saw it,” Zayne says quietly. And though your day, possibly your next few weeks, have been ruined, you feel a wave of relief at not being the only one who witnessed this unsettling moment.
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I'm posting one chapter a day on tumblr; but the fic is already finished! Check the rest of the completed Fic out on A03!
I paused a little on my reactions because I am cooking up this like 10 chapter Zayne fic and I’m so excited to share it soon.
It’s a sci-fi mystery thriller with a big splash of romance. Essentially it starts with a huge wanderer attack in the middle of the city and MC and Zayne have to figure out what’s going on together.
After that I’m working on a Caleb fic that I’m excited to get working on!
"Accidental Confessions" – LI Reactions to Hearing MC Say "I Love You" for the First Time 💖
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🌙✨ "They hear MC say ‘I love you’ for the first time… but MC doesn’t realize they heard" – The inner turmoil and how they respond when MC eventually finds out. 💖
𓆩♡𓆪 Reactions
𓆩♡𓆪 SFW
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「 ✦ Xavier ✦ 」
Winter in Lincoln is always your favorite time of year. When the snow clings to the ground and the streets grow quiet and cozy, you feel an added layer of happiness seeping through your bones.
Being outside makes it all the more wonderful, and spending an evening in the snow with your boyfriend completes the picture in ways you never thought possible.
“How is it?” Xavier asks as you taste the hot mulled wine that promises cinnamon and spiced flavors. As much as you’d wanted to like it, the bitter taste of the wine and the sweetness of the spices don’t mix very well. You smile despite this and nod, feeling mischievous in the cold weather.
“It’s delicious! Try it!” you say with a smile, handing over the paper cup. He takes it with a smile and sips, his face wincing as he gets a taste. Your laughter is muffled by the falling snow outside the winter market.
“You tricked me,” he says, though his words are accusing, his face is smiling.
“I had to get you back for that stunt you pulled last date night,” you say with a grin. He rolls his eyes — the look is cute on his face.
The rest of the evening slips away as you walk through the market and try new food together. When date night is over, you're back on the train. Xavier’s chronic sleepiness rears its head, and like always, he leans his head on your shoulder to sleep on the ride back home.
In the quiet of the car, you smooth his hair out of his face and whisper, “I love you,” trying the words out on your lips, your heart racing at how perfect and right they feel. Maybe, when the time is right, you’ll say it to him while he’s awake.
“I love you too,” he says softly, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest. He lifts his head up only slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“I—I thought you were asleep,” you say, stammering, your cheeks reddening.
“I was,” he says with a soft smile. “But I always wake up for things that are important. So… I love you too.”
Yes. Absolutely, winter is the best time.
「 ✦ Rafayel ✦ 」
The thing about paint is that it gets everywhere. You’re not sure how your boyfriend and artist, Rafayel, manages to always look so clean and pristine when he’s working with colors and paint. In spite of all this, you persist, trying to silence your harsh inner critic as you paint a pretty beach scene in your local arts and crafts class. This is your fourth freestyle class, which is perfect as you’re learning the basics and can borrow the paints and canvas that you don't own yourself.
Your instructor, a kind older woman, stops by your station and smiles. “What are you trying to say with your painting?” She’s been asking everyone that, and you hadn’t thought through your answer, so you say what’s on your mind.
“I want it to say… I love you,” you say, a faint blush coming to your cheeks.
“Really?” This voice belongs not to your instructor but to a very familiar voice that makes you almost jump out of your skin. You turn to face your boyfriend, who has a bag of purchased art supplies in his hand and a smile on his face brighter than the sun.
“You love me?”
“Raf!” you say, your voice up three octaves. “What are you doing here?”
He waves his hand. “I'm a painter. I came for paints. But never mind that. Say it again. I want to hear it.”
Your head spins around at the rest of your class, who have tuned into the conversation, and you want to be swallowed up by the floor. He steps forward and pokes your cheeks playfully.
“What was that?”
“I—” Your voice cracks under the emotional weight of how much you mean what you’re about to say. Your cheeks warm further. “I love you. Rafayel.”
He leans down until he’s at your eye level, and you almost have to look away at how beautiful he is.
“I love you too.” He kisses your forehead. “And I love your painting,” he whispers at the end.
Maybe messy paint fingers aren't all so bad.
「 ✦ Sylus ✦ 」
Digital planners are a fantastic creation that you recently discovered through your booked and busy boyfriend, Sylus. His schedule is often jam-packed, and he’d shared his calendar with you — a new level of trust you’d giggled and kicked your feet over — and showed you how to set up one of your own.
Occasionally, you’ll get a notification that he’s requesting to place something on your calendar, and occasionally, you’ll send one to him. You could just text or call, but this was cuter.
As you check your calendar this evening, there’s a scheduled date night sent by the busy man that stretches into the night. You’d been excited about it all week, talking nonstop at work about what he could have planned. You spent time getting your hair and nails done — even spent precious wanderer-hunting training time picking out the perfect outfit. And it was halfway through trying on dresses that the thought had almost knocked you over.
You love this man. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach at the thought, and you’d needed to sit down. At first, it was fun — this dating thing — and then it had grown more serious, and now… now you felt something so deep it could only mean one thing.
The day of the date, you were fooling around with your calendar at midnight when you created a new entry for yourself. “Tell Sylus I love him.” You titled it. Not that you needed the reminder. But still.
Moments after adding the private event to your calendar, your phone buzzed. Sylus.
You smiled and picked up. “I was just thinking about you,” you say, perhaps a little dreamily.
“Yes, I can see that,” he says, his deep voice tinged with amusement.
You look around, wondering if he could see you somehow. “You can?” you say, confused.
“Tell Sylus, I love him, at midnight.” He repeats, his voice definitely colored with amusement and affection. “You know, sweetie, I’ve got to teach you how to work the privacy settings on your calendar.”
You feel your heart skid to a stop. Oh no. Oh no!
“You— I— oh! Oh my gosh!” you stammer out, and there’s a chuckle on the other end of the line.
“Don’t worry. I’ll accept your invite. I can’t wait to hear it in person,” his voice says smoothly.
There’s a ping on your phone, and you look down at your notifications.
There’s a new calendar invite:
“Tell Y/N that I love them back” at midnight.
「 ✦ Caleb ✦ 」
“See, it’s not so scary,” Caleb is saying as you watch a few of the Farspace Fleet team land safely, their parachutes helping them glide down gracefully.
When Caleb had first told you about what the fleet does “for fun,” you had (gently) bonked him on the head for doing something so dangerous for “fun.” And now, as you watched, there was absolutely no way you were letting him continue to do this. An emergency is one thing, but jumping out of planes thousands of miles in the air is another.
“Look, I’m so sure it’s perfectly safe that I think you should do it with me,” he says, that cute Caleb smile on his face. That… was pretty convincing. Your boyfriend is the most protective person you know, and he’d never actively put you in danger. Plus, you reasoned, his evol being gravity would help if he was ever actually in danger.
Somehow he’d gotten you to agree — get on a plane, get strapped to him in a parachute, and stand at the open door of a flying craft. And in the midst of all that, you’d realized you’d had the courage to do this but not the courage to tell him the three simple words you’d felt for him this entire time.
You could tell that he was giving you instructions, but you couldn’t hear what they were. The earpiece in your ear seemed to not be picking up what he was saying — perhaps you were on two different channels. But you got the gist of it from his hand motions. The roar of the air made his voice impossible to hear without the earpiece.
And when it was time, you got an idea. Maybe you could say it now — when he can’t hear you. And maybe it’ll help you be brave enough to say it when you land.
You watched his fingers count down, and as he hit one, you said it — your voice just above a whisper.
“I love you!”
And you were off, diving through the air, strapped to the man you loved most in the world. It was… fantastic. You understood almost immediately why he did this despite how scary it looked.
There are a few moments as he pulls on the parachute and guides you down gently. You can feel the pull of his evol making the landing even softer.
You unhook yourself, your hair wild and free, laughter bubbling up like joy in your throat.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss, your heart beating fast. “Wow!” you say with a smile as you pull back. “That was amazing!”
He smiles, stroking your cheek. “You’re amazing,” he says softly. “And I love you too.”
Your cheeks redden, but you feel… happy. Happier than ever. “You heard that, huh?”
He smooths your hair. “Yeah, but don’t worry. The feeling’s mutual.”
「 ✦ Zayne ✦ 」
You would be in awe of just how perfect it is to be dating a sweet doctor when you’re sick — if you weren’t feeling like actual crap. Moving from bed seems like a gigantic task with how weak and low-energy you are.
Zayne removes the temperature reader from your forehead with a tsk. “You definitely have a fever,” he murmurs softly.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, feeling guilt eat away at your insides. You were on vacation — two weeks' worth of it — and it was starting off with you sick as hell.
He raises an eyebrow at you, faint amusement in his eyes. “What are you sorry for? It’s not like you chose to have food poisoning.”
You can’t argue with that, but you still huff a sigh. “But still… sick in bed is hardly what I wanted for our time off.”
He shakes his head. “I told you, whether we’re in the Bahamas or just in bed at home, any time with you feels like a holiday.”
“You’re sweet.”
He chuckles. “Get some rest. I’m going to find a local store and get you some medicine.”
Sleep overtakes you then, and you feel the true definition of fever dreams as you sweat out whatever had poisoned your system. You dream of Zayne — taking care of you, feeding you gently, and cuddling you. You even giggle at the thought of him using his evol to cool off your body temperature. It’s a sweet dream.
“I love you, Zayne,” you blurt to dream Zayne, whose eyes go all soft around the edges, feeling so real.
“You love me?” he repeats, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. That feels really real too. These fever dreams are really immersive.
“I do,” you confirm, feeling safe and secure in your little dream world.
He chuckles softly. “You’re delirious from your fever.”
“Maybe so,” you say softly, eyes closed. “Doesn’t change the fact that I love you. And when I wake up… maybe… maybe I’ll say it to you then,” you say with a yawn.
Zayne smiles down sweetly at you as you actually doze back to sleep. “Yes, well, maybe I’ll say it back to you when you wake up.”
—
Hours later, you wake in Zayne’s arms. The fever and slosh in your head seem to have calmed down quite a bit. As you blink awake, you feel heat creeping up your neck, cheeks, and forehead. Oh. Oh no.
You sit up, stirring a sleeping Zayne awake.
“How are you feeling?” he asks sleepily, putting his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. “Your fever broke. That’s good… why are you looking at me like that?”
“Did I… did I, uh, say anything during my fever?” you ask.
He smiles. “No.”
You release a sigh of relief, and he grins wider. “Except this one part where you said that you loved me. And that you’d tell me when you woke up.”
Your blush is legendary. “Oh… so that did happen.”
He nods. “That did happen,” he confirms with a smile.
“Well… I also… remember you saying you’d say it back,” you respond, your voice soft and small and hopeful.
His eyes soften again, a hand coming to your cheek. “I’ll say it first if you like — though, I think that title belongs to you.”
He tilts his head just slightly, his eyes warm and affectionate. “I love you.” His voice is steady, sure.
You feel your heart doing several backflips at once.
When You're Hurt: How Each LI Reacts to Seeing MC Injured 🌙
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🌙✨ "MC gets badly injured on a mission and they blame themselves" – Exploring each LI’s guilt, protectiveness, and how they handle seeing MC hurt. 💖
𓆩♡𓆪 Reactions
𓆩♡𓆪 SFW
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「 ✦ Xavier ✦ 」
There have been a lot of times that you’ve ridden the train with Xavier, and every single time, he dozes off, head on your shoulder, his fingers intertwined with yours. It’s always your responsibility to make sure you get off at the appropriate station — though if you're about to miss it, he miraculously wakes up and stops the train on time.
Tonight, however, he’s awake and a live wire. Xavier’s frown is distinct on his face, his eyes hard and sharp and focused. His hands, instead of being wrapped around your own, are pressed firmly on the wound on your leg. His sweater is the best thing he had to staunch the blood, and he’s holding it so tight to you that you wonder if it’ll bruise.
“Xav…” you try weakly, your voice soft around the edges from the loss of blood. He looks at you, eyes scanning your face. You realize that it’s not just worry and concern in those pretty eyes of his — it’s anger.
He shakes his head. “My performance got you injured.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Your performance is what saved my life and leg from getting cut off by that wanderer.”
“I should have — could have done better.”
“Baby…”
You don’t remember much after that as you’d lost consciousness. But later, when you awake again, you find yourself in the hospital. Xavier’s form is asleep, leaning against the bed, his fingers intertwined with yours.
“You’re awake,” the doctor says with a smile at Xavier’s sleeping form. “He stayed by your side the whole night. You’ll heal fine. He saved your life with that sweater, you know.”
And as you watch his sleeping form, you vow to make sure he knows just that.
「 ✦ Rafayel ✦ 」
There are several personalities of Rafayel — the sweet one, the sassy one, even the combat mode one. But this version of your husband before you was one you rarely saw.
You were holding a med pack to your lower abdomen, willing the bleeding to stop. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Rafayel’s blades dance in the light, his eyes and scales aglow with a frightening anger and power. Wind picks up on the shore and the tides look suddenly dangerous.
You can tell that Rafayel is saying something, but you can’t hear it. The cultists dressed in all black seem to hear him and turn to run.
It’s quick — Rafayel’s wrath — he moves fast, cutting down the cultist that injured you with frightening speed and agility. When their bodies drop to the floor, he turns back to you, jogging over, his beautiful eyes flashing in concern as he checks over your wound.
“I’m… I’m so sorry, my heart,” he says, his voice pitchy with worry. “I didn’t protect you well enough.”
“My heart?” you say through rough breaths, teasing him even now. “What happened to cutie or honey?” It’s what he normally calls you.
As he pulls you up into his arms bridal style, he looks seriously down at you.
“I call you my heart because you have it.” He says, his seriousness throwing you off for once.
“Come on, Miss Bodyguard. Let’s get you fixed up.”
「 ✦ Sylus ✦ 」
“Fuck.”
It was strange to hear a curse slip from Sylus’ lips. But you heard it clear as day as he leans over you, his large hands twisting your thigh to get a good look at the bullet hole that ripped through your flesh.
Sylus had invited you to what was meant to be an easy mission. He’d bought you a fancy red dress and heels, and your only mission had been to sneak away halfway through the prestigious party of a politician and steal some aether core.
Well, it had all gone wrong when security had finally figured out you had not been on the guest list. Gunfire began shortly after Sylus had stalled for time so you could steal the core. You’d gotten the core — but not without taking a slug into your leg.
“Fuck!” He curses again, his voice hard but still soft as he runs his hands through his hair. His look, normally brooding and annoyingly charming, is taut. His jaw is working overtime.
“Sylus…”
“I shouldn’t have involved you in such a half-baked plan to begin with,” he whispers urgently as he rips off a piece of his shirt to staunch the blood.
“Sylus…”
“I should have brought Luke and Keiran for reinforcements,” he says as he ties a tight, almost painful knot to stop the blood. “I should have known better—”
“Sylus!” you call louder, using your hand to cup his face. He stops speaking, his lips parting as he looks at you.
“There’s no one on the planet able to predict the future or change the past,” you say, using his own words against him. His eyes soften at your reference to his own advice. “Besides,” you smile, “I’ve been hit much harder than this and I always get back up.”
Sylus leans into your hand, kissing the palm softly and turning his eyes back to you.
“I know you‘ll survive this,” his voice is low and back to being steady.
“But I’ll be here with you every step of the way. Okay?”
“Okay.”
「 ✦ Caleb ✦ 」
“CALEB!” you cry, hoping the sharp panic in your voice will return your husband’s focus back on you and not the man he was slamming his fist into — again and again.
The sound of metal hitting flesh and bone is unpleasant to say the least, and you can hear the gears in Caleb’s arm as he slams his mechanical knuckles into the fool who had attempted and almost succeeded in splitting you open with a knife.
Caleb drops the man’s limp body that groans in pain. Anger is clear in the set of his jaw. He comes over, examining the wound, his voice soft.
“Look what he did to you.” He shakes his head, moving quickly to staunch the bleeding.
“It’s alright—”
He looks up at you, that anger, that fury in his eyes. “It’s not alright. I should have… “ he scoffs and turns back to focusing on the task.
“I should have protected you.”
Caleb takes a deep breath and then puts on a small smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Next time I won’t let it happen again, okay?” He ruffles your hair slightly before scooping you into his arms.
“Let’s get you some help.”
「 ✦ Zayne ✦ 」
The thing about Evols is that they can sometimes be unpredictable. The science is relatively new despite how many scientists are studying it. Anything could happen at any time for any reason, and there may yet to be an explanation for it.
Which is what you were telling yourself as Zayne races down the Lincoln streets in his sleek black car toward Akso Hospital. There’s a large icicle piercing your calf that, thankfully, wasn’t bleeding all that much, but the pain was terrible.
You had been on your way to date night — a water show in the lower city — when a wanderer had appeared in the middle of a busy street intersection. Of course, you had hopped out of the car without thinking, charging headfirst to face it down. The thing had a child in its grasp. Zayne had been right behind you, using his Evol to shield the child while you took down the wanderer. The monster was tough, and you could see the strain on Zayne as ice crept up his arm and neck.
“I’ve got this, honey!” you had called, not wanting him to injure himself further. But you’d been distracted and gotten hit by the tail of the wanderer, sending you flying backward. Zayne had been trying to cushion your fall, trying to help, but his Evol had exploded instead — sending ice shards everywhere, and one through your leg.
The frown on his face seemed permanently etched there as he drove far faster than the speed limit.
“You’re in pain,” he says simply, knowing you all too well — as if there is an invisible string between your hearts.
“S’not so bad,” you manage out through gritted teeth. The cold is worse than anything, but there’s no way you're going to tell him that. “It's okay, Zayne. Really.”
“It’s not.” His voice is soft, but you can tell he’s upset — likely with himself.
“It was a freak accident, Zayne.” You try to reason. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, I’ve got the best doctor in all of Lincoln on the case.”
You reach over, taking one of his hands and intertwining your fingers with his. His grip is tight, and though he keeps his eyes on the road, you can see them soften a little.
"You're Safe With Me" — LI Reactions to MC's Nightmares 🌙
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🌙✨ "MC wakes up from a nightmare calling their name" – How each LI reacts to MC having a distressing dream and instinctively reaching for them. 💖
𓆩♡𓆪 Reactions
𓆩♡𓆪 SFW
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「 ✦ Xavier ✦ 」
“There,” he says after placing the fourth and final blanket on top of you. “Now no more bad dreams can reach you.”
Xavier’s lack of panic informs your lack of panic. The small smile that graces his round face makes the memory of the frightening shadows in your dreams disappear. Of course it was just a bad dream. Nothing could really hurt you with Xavier here.
“I read once that weighted blankets help our nervous system calm down,” he says, always an encyclopedia of random facts.
“I don’t have any heavy blankets, but I think I stacked enough up.”
You’re glad for the dim lights in your bedroom or else he might have seen the blush on your cheeks when he tucks a hair behind your ear.
“And if that doesn’t work, I’ll lay on you instead.”
You giggle at his soft promise, knowing he would do it if you asked.
“You’ve got a deal.”
「 ✦ Rafayel ✦ 」
“What was your dream about?”
Rafayel’s warm arms are wrapped around your waist, your back to his chest as he leans his chin against your shoulder. His fingers are splayed over your stomach, making short soothing motions that make you feel safe. That make you feel like, if you get it all out, then you’ll be fine.
And Raf listens with a surprising intensity that encourages all your feelings to come tumbling past your lips.
“You know,” he says as if he’s actually been thinking it over. “I’d never actually let any of that happen to you.”
It’s simple. A statement with a period. Very typical Raf—minus the teasing tone. He’s serious and you… believe him.
“You can sleep in my arms if you’d like,” he continues. Again, simple, short, and to the point, minus the sass and smirks. The sea god has spoken, and you feel safer.
You turn to meet his eyes and, though his voice is serious, his mischievous little eyes are the same.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
「 ✦ Sylus ✦ 」
“Good, right?” Sylus asks, his deep voice rumbling with sleep as he watches you dip your cookie in milk yet again.
You can’t help but nod vigorously as you take another soft bite of warm chocolate chip cookie with a little bit of milk. You’re not sure where your husband produced the snack from—but then again, you’re not sure about how Sylus does a lot of things.
You’d woken up in a cold sweat, tears streaming down your face, his name on your lips from a nightmare that immediately fled your brain, though the fear was still there and all too real.
He was awake with you immediately, sitting up only seconds after you had, and his warm, broad frame had rocked you, his thumb caressing your cheek gently until you’d stopped crying.
“You’re safe,” he’d mumbled. And when he realized going back to sleep right away was not an option, he’d dragged you out of bed, down the halls of your home, and into the kitchen.
“So good,” you agree after getting down another warm cookie. Sleep was starting to be a possibility again, and you could feel it in the back of your eyes.
“When you’re ready, we can cuddle,” he says, his voice gravelly, filled with affection and slight amusement as he watches you pick up another cookie. “Take your time, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, baby.”
「 ✦ Caleb ✦ 」
“Just one more block!” Caleb says. He is a little further than you on the sidewalk, his longer legs carrying him farther, faster. It’s 3 in the morning, and the streets of Sky Haven are quiet, except for the sounds of you and Caleb running down them. It was something new you were trying when the nightmares came.
“It’s like we’re taking turns,” Caleb had muttered into your hair as he held you tightly when you’d first woken up screaming his name. His fingers made calming motions up and down your back as you clung to him, a few stubborn tears pooling in your eyes.
He was, of course, referencing his own nightmares—sometimes quiet, leaving him pulling you in tighter, and sometimes ending with him crying out your name in the middle of the night. You were, in fact, taking turns taking care of each other. Soft cuddles, forehead kisses, and whispered assurances were only taking you so far. Then he’d had this idea—a quick run around the block.
“If we’re tired enough, we’ll get some good sleep,” he’d reasoned. And that had felt like a good idea before you were out in the cold and he was running ahead of you.
He turns to look back at you and stops, a small smile on his face. “What’s the matter, honey?” he asks as you catch up.
“I’m tired,” you say, a smile on your face to match his. “And cold.”
His warm frame envelops you seconds later, his chin on your head, his hands rubbing down your back.
“Alright, alright, let’s head back home. I think we’ve worked hard enough.”
The walk back is nice—you have his jacket on your shoulders and his hand in yours.
“Caleb?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.”
「 ✦ Zayne ✦ 」
“Asking a doctor not to be a doctor about things like interrupted sleep is quite the impossible ask,” Zayne muses softly. His fingers thread through your hair gently, your breaths becoming slower against his neck.
Your nightmare had awoken the doctor, who was already a bit of a light sleeper. It wasn’t the first time. He’d been so frightened that something had happened to you that his hand was ice-cold with his activated evol, ready to fight the wanderer that must have appeared in the bedroom.
Since then, he’d been calmer when it happened again. Your husband was a quick study—fingers through your hair and soft reassurances of safety often did the trick of getting you back asleep after a nightmare. But tonight, you were shaken up by the vivid images of his death.
You squeeze his side, your arms draped around his waist as he holds you close.
His voice becomes more serious as he feels your leftover emotions.
“I’d never leave you,” he says softly, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I swear it.”
Then there’s a kiss to your cheekbone and your cheek, and by the time he’s to your lips, you’re smiling again.
“There it is,” he says softly, a small smile matching his own, his thumb gently tracing over your lips before he kisses you. It’s a gentle kiss, full of warmth and safety and presence.
The covers shift softly as you press closer, the kiss washing away any thoughts of death when your husband is before you clearly and full of life.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispers in the end. “I’ll watch over you.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” you say with a teasing smile before leaning in for one last goodnight kiss.
Dying of laughter that the evil organization that was trying to convince our main characters in Maze Runner that they weren’t bad was named “WCKED”
They even go out of their way to have a silly mantra that “ WCKED is good” like sure bestie let me just go hang out with my bestie Hannibal first. There is a cannibal on the lose but he’s good, I know it.
I’ve been obsessed with murderbot diaries for the last few weeks after my dad introduced them to me. I love hearing sec units inner thoughts, it’s interactions with ART, and I love all the sci-fi stuff thats going on but it’s not hard to picture or understand what Martha Wells is talking about.
One thing that drives me away from some sci-fi sometimes is when it’s hard to picture what the author is talking about because they are making up long hard to pronounce words, or ideas without any context clues.
Being on dating apps and not having a clue how to be in the talking phase, makes my favorite go to of established relationships in my writing make so much sense. Like ah, I don’t know how make these characters flirt with one another because EYE don’t know how to do it.
