pairings: sylus x f!reader, zayne x f!reader and caleb x f!reader
a/n: i blame woo do hwan for this (he’s all the men u flirt with lol) ;u;
Sylus
It’s not common for Sylus to leave N109 to venture into other cities. It’s even rarer for him to be in Linkon in broad daylight.
But Sylus has noticed a…shift in Your behavior recently. Sylus is too mature to admit that curiosity is eating him up inside but he will confess that Your lack of appearance at his manor has piqued his interest.
At first, Sylus brushes it off as You being busy with work. Wanderers have been sprouting about it recently so he imagines the hunters have been off to battle frequently. With the increase in numbers of those filthy creatures, they’re probably grabbing any hunter they can find.
Yet when the dangers have dispersed, You still barely show up at his place. Just this morning Sylus has scoffed at himself for pacing around his study, as if he’s some pup eagerly waiting for his master’s return.
Bothered at himself, Sylus sends out Mephisto to track your location.
The robotic bird informs him that You’re at the Deepspace Hunter Association’s main building, working on some documents.
This is how we find Sylus expertly bypassing all the security cameras and alarms installed in the building. He hears Mephisto through the earpiece that You’re currently at the outdoor training grounds with your friends.
Sylus is on the roof overlooking the training grounds without breaking a sweat.
He sees a group of cadets gathered around a matted area. There are rows of benches surrounding the makeshift ring where two boxers are battling it out.
Sylus snaps his fingers and a pair of binoculars emerge through a smoke of crimson red. It doesn’t take him too long to spot You.
You’re sitting in the middle, friends surrounding You left and right. A white eyebrow raises in curiosity as You and Your friends say something and then burst into a fit of giggles.
Sylus sees one of Your friends pointing towards the ring, whispering something to You before You playfully shove her.
Following where Your friend is pointing, Sylus’ gaze lands on the two men fighting on the ring. Specifically, a black haired man with very slanted eyes. The man fights seriously, as if he is facing an enemy. He knocks out his opponent in two minutes which earns him an eruption of cheers from the group of girls. Sylus doesn’t miss how loudly you clap and cheer for him.
Sylus’ insides curled in protest at the repulsive sight.
You’ve been away this whole time because of some…some, pretty boy?
Sylus has never thought of You as someone so superficial. Or as someone who’s looking to date. Because even when Sylus drags you to all those parties You hate, where men drool all over You, some bold enough to flirt, You never paid them attention.
But You’re acting like a shy school girl over this insignificant bug? Ridiculous.
Movement below catches Sylus attention again. It takes every ounce of self control for Sylus to not break his binoculars.
The little bug runs up to You when he notices You holding a cold bottle of water and clean towels for him. The boy flashes You what he thinks is a charming smile (Sylus thinks he looks like a creep) and throws a wink Your way before he’s back on the ring.
Snapping the binoculars away, Sylus turns away from the revolting scene.
Should You grace Sylus with Your presence, he’ll show just how pretty and strong a man can be.
Zayne
Zayne absolutely despises going to the coffee shop across the street from Deepspace Hunter Association’s main building. He yearns to take You to a different coffee shop but Your lunch break is only an hour and any other decent coffee shop is at least thirty minutes away from Your workplace.
Zayne has suggested that he brings You lunch to work, tempting You by promising that he’ll cook all of Your favorite meals but You refused.
You’ve explained to him that being stuck at work all day long is driving You crazy and You’re not going to sacrifice Your freedom and sanity no matter what.
So Zayne has to sit in this humble sized coffee shop with hanging flowers decorating the walls and soft jazz music playing in the background.
To be honest, the establishment isn’t so bad. The prices are reasonable. The food they serve is very delicious and Zayne will admit that their coffee is the best in the city. So, really, Zayne doesn’t have any reason to complain about this place.
Except for the fact that one of their baristas is an attractive young man that You’ve been eyeing ever since they had hired him.
Zayne has to watch You with a hollow heart as You bat Your eyes prettily at the man with slanted eyes as he compliments Your dress. The dress that Zayne has seen You purchased on Your phone just like this.
A compliment or two from men is fine, Zayne doesn’t mind it much. You are a beautiful woman after all so he doesn’t blame them. But does the barista have to draw hearts, flowers and cute emojis in all of Your coffee orders?
At least Zayne doesn’t have to hear You gushing about him like You do with Tara. He fears he might do something illegal if he does.
Caleb
There really should be a support group for men who are not only bother-zoned but have to spend their only day off of the week watching their crush flirt with another man.
Caleb is sitting on his beach towel with his arms crossed as he shoots lasers at the lifeguard talking to You. He holds back screams of frustration as You shyly laugh at something the other man said and playfully smack his well defined pectorals.
What’s worse is that You’re wearing a frilly pink bikini that Caleb loves so much. It’s not fair that the lifeguard, some loser who’s most likely a closeted creep and perv, gets to freely ogle at Your smoking hot body while Caleb can’t.
Internally, Caleb screams, a cacophony of frustration and envy echoing in the hollows of his mind. Every laugh from Your lips feels like a dagger to his heart. Each flirtatious glance You exchanged with the lifeguard made his blood boil.
The final straw is when You call him gege. Yes, gege can be used for anyone but You know that this honorific is Caleb’s weakness. You’re also aware of how upset he gets when You use it on other men, even You have called out his illogical mindset.
Unable to stomach the sight before him, Caleb is on his feet. He’s trudging to the lifeguard station where you’re both at.
He’ll snatch You away from that snake and drag You back home if it means it will put an end to Caleb’s torture.
You being angry is a price he’s willing to pay because, by the end of the night, he’ll make sure You’re his.
summary: jealous, possessive xavier short story [festival edition !]
requested?: YES quite an old request iirc, thank u so much for requesting :') i love every single request i get - even if i can't get to all of them or it takes me fourhundred years, i rlly appreciate everyone sending stuff to my inbox!
xavier had originally suggested you two go to this festival because he had heard from lily how fun it was when she went last year. the amount of activities and fun games they had which were paired with trendy gifts that were always sought after in winning. the delicious food stalls that lined up and down the festival grounds. the booths specifically targeted for couples.
of course xavier wanted to take his boyfriend out to such a fun event. even if he was more so a homebody, if he could make more memories with you and make you happy, then he doesn’t need much more convincing in going outside.
what xavier forgot to realize is that when you two go anywhere outside of the safety of your shared apartment, you are now his to share. he has to share your attention, time, and sweet personality with others, anyone that speaks to you. even people who may not know you, but think you have a kind enough face to start a conversation with while waiting in line for a sweet treat.
which was happening right now.
the two girls that were dressed in beautiful red garments, complimented with intricate hairstyles and simple, but flattering makeup. xavier’s eyes squinted in slight envy as he saw how objectively beautiful these two women were. one of which has not stopped talking to you the entire time you four have been waiting in the line — which was moving excruciatingly slow.
the other woman had tried talking to xavier, but he answered in disinterested one worded answers while keeping his eyes mainly trained on you.
“oh, that’s a beautiful bracelet,” the woman speaking to you ooh-ed, gently gracing her hands over the metal that adorned your wrist. you lifted your arm up, smiling softly as the light hit it so naturally.
“yes, xavier gave it to me as a gift,” the silver haired man grins in pride at being mentioned by name to her, slightly puffing his chest out unintentionally. he presses his side closer to yours, pulling his sleeve back to show the bracelet that was on his wrist as well. an undeniable matching pair.
that should be enough to get her to back off.
but no, apparently, she thought it nothing but a cute piece of jewelry you both were interested in. xavier grit his teeth, eyes glaring at the bracelet on your wrist as he goes on a tangent (in his mind) about how the bracelets are symbols of your permanent attachment to one another, how you two are the only ones for each other for the rest of your life. you and him, interlinked forever.
and she just thought it was a friendly gesture? how much more obvious can xavier make it that you were his beloved and he yours?
does he have to declare it in front of her? because he will if that’s what it takes.
his hands grips onto yours, tightly squeezing you in place by his side as he speaks through gritted teeth, “i gifted it to [name].” he says simply, not quite conveying his true thoughts properly to the two women.
“you’re so confident in showing off your wealth! i bet these two were expensive! did you get a good deal on them, that’s why you bought two?” the woman that was trying to sway xavier’s attention tried reaching for the bangle, but he quickly pulls away and places that hand on top of yours. your hand is now sandwiched in between two of his.
“i bought two for us,” he states, thinking his intentions behind his words are as clear as day. but, his judgement is slightly askew as they keep interpretting it as friendly gestures. and he can tell by the way they kindly smile at him, “as a couple.” he finally adds, pressing towards your body.
the entire time you were simply watching him with a gentle, patient smile.
”yeah, he’s really sweet in gift giving! even if i tell him not to, he keeps surprising me,” you lift your hand up and gently kiss his knuckles, unknowingly quelling his jealousy and envy to be so minimal he barely even feels it affect his emotion anymore.
meanwhile, the two girls in front of you blink in confusion, wondering if they had heard you correctly.
“he’s my boyfriend.”
xavier’s tone is finite and harsh, wanting nothing more but to see the look of realization cross their faces. he continues on, in a voice that sounds even more harsh, “we’re dating. if you didn’t know.”
“xavier, i think-”
“i bought him these bracelets because we are going to be together forever,” he continues on, now babbling at this point because the girls seem to understand the message clear enough, “i’m going to make him my husband-”
“okay! that’s enough!” you cut him off, making the girls finally snap out of their shocked silence. they nod politely at you two, throwing you a sheepish grin as they scurry off, leaving their spot in line completely empty.
“did they even want the food or were they just standing here to flirt with you?” xavier huffs ina grumpy tone, leaning his cheek onto your shoulder. his eyebrows are bunched together as he can’t help but ground himself to you. body weight growing more heavy on your, grip on your hands tightening. he’s doing his best to force you to pay attention to him.
“there was no need to be snippy with them,” you weakly defend, but it only earns you a glare.
“why are you defending them? you don’t even know them.”
“i was just-”
“why do you suddenly care about them? don’t tell me i need to go there and make it even more clear that you’re mine. i thought i was plenty clear already — or was i not clear enough with you?” his attitude is familiar now. the grumpy, snapping one he uses on you when he gets extra jealous, even more upset when you try rationalize a situation.
he’s so upset that he’s about to go on another tangent, but you cut him off with a kiss before he can start. a kiss that starts gentle, a pressing of your lips against his pouty ones. before you deepen it, tilting your head against his to gain the upper hand and control. he doesn’t give in immediately, frustrated with your tactics in distracting him. but when he feels your hand trail up his chest, linger on his collarbone, then hover over the back of his neck before gripping the roots of his hair, he can’t help but give in.
he melts into your touch and body, arms anchoring to your waist and steadying himself there to prevent himself from his knees completely giving out. when you pull away from the intense kiss, he realizes that you had just kissed him in front of everyone. all the people walking by know you’re his. the people standing behind you two in line know. the vendors on the street know.
and that’s enough to send an aggressive blush to his cheeks. his ears go red in an instant and he’s coughing behind his hand, which hopes to hide his face, but you already have seen his red cheeks.
“uhm,” it’s an awkward sound that escapes him and he almost curses at the embarrassing moment, but you smile at him — as if his expression is cute to you (which it is).
“i’m only yours, xavi,” you coo, ruffling his hair and bumping your shoulder against his. “don’t worry about others when we’re here together,”
you knew just what to say to calm his angsty nerves down. it doesn’t mean it goes away completely, though. he’ll always have the tiny (sometimes annoyingly large) part of him that gets jealous over the littlest things, but these remedies you give him temporarily distract his mind from overthinking.
”c’mon, let me win you a couple of plushies,” you invite him, also getting out of the line for food and now lookingf or vendors with cute animals that you know your boyfriend would like.
“only if i get to win you some in return as well,” he murmurs shyly, looking down as if this is your first date when the reality is that you’ve been dating for years already.
“oh, you’re adorable, baby,” you tease, knowing his atrocious luck with the claw machines he usually goes to at the arcade.
“i’ll get you something this time! something really special, to remember today,” he says in determination, eyebrows furrowed together as he tries finding a machine that looks easiest to maneuver.
you casually kiss his temple, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth, “don’t make promises you can’t keep, xavier,”
“i’ll win one! i will!” he argues back, looking adorable as he jokingly glares at you. another kiss to his temple.
“mhm, bun, i believe you.”
he blushes at the pet name. he’s so lucky to have you be so patient with him. everyday you spend together is another day he ends up thanking fate for sending you to him. there’s no one else he could imagine getting so childishly jealous and protective over if not you.
and you’re the perfect match for him because you never get tired of his behavior. quick to finding the solution, like right now, is something that xavier doesn’t take for granted.
and as you two walk hand in hand down the street of vendors, your bracelets clinking and clanging against one another’s, it’s a clear sign to everyone around you that you and your silly, jealous bunny are in this together. for life.
Warning: MDI, toxic jealousy, unhealthy relationships, gore, possessiveness, sa (not from lads to y/n but from a rando), slightly unhinged y/n, not proof read, 2nd pov & 3rd pov.
a/n: i do not condone such behavior in real life.
Sylus
Nothing Sylus has said or done seems to appease You.
In your head, Sylus has broken one of the most sacred of vows; canceling your date night.
Dating an outlaw isn’t easy, You know this, You’ve even forgiven him for so many things. Like that one time he had You dropping out of night school because ‘Why would a pretty gal like you need to go to school for when she has me?’ Sylus had said with his infamous smile.
Or how about that time when the bank teller was being friendly with You when Sylus had finally given You permission to open up your own bank account? Sylus had been in the building across the street to check on the latest gun when he walked in on the young fella treating You to a tall glass of refreshing ice tea since it’s hotter than an oven out there and You looked parched. Sylus didn’t react too badly. He just broke the poor boy’s wrist. You hadn’t spoken to him for a week after that.
Instead of Sylus taking You to that fancy new restaurant that opened in town, he’s taking You to an underground poker room.
“I’m meeting with someone very important tonight.” Sylus told You earlier that night as he fixed himself in front of the mirror, “I’ll make it up to ya, darlin’. Promise.” His southern twang helped sooth your anger but not for long.
For gathering important figures, the poker table sure looks gaudy. There are some dents on the faux wooden surface, no doubt from sore losers who lost a large sum of their hard earnings. The colorful paint is chipping off and the playing cards aren’t even from the same batch; bright blues and greens that hurt your eyes.
You’re sitting on Sylus’ left, a bored expression painting your face as your lover laughs with the other players. He’d ask You to kiss him on cheek, for luck he says. And your kisses sure are lucky as he is yet to lose a single game.
Everything goes downhill in the new round. The players have been changed, stakes are at an all time high and the music’s playing louder than ever.
A man sitting next to You keeps eyeing You. Not in a lecherous way but more so out of curiosity. Out of all the guests and players here, You seem quite well dressed. A proper lady with how You are sitting straight with your shoulders back and head held high.
He smiles at You, prettily in a way that reminds You of the blossom of spring, when You catch his eye.
You return his smile.
Neither of you talk to each other but You’re silently cheering him on. Every time this stranger wins, You cheer silently. Even if it’s against Sylus. That man needs to be brought down a peg or two. Serves him right for changing your plans for the evening at the last minute.
You’re so focused on the stranger winning that You forgot to give Sylus his good luck kiss.
Suddenly, like the viscous roar of thunder during a summer strom, a loud bang fills the room. The band abruptly stops playing. Side conversations and ruckus laughter die down.
Your shoulders shoot to your ears. Once the ringing settles down, You slowly turn to your right.
There’s a pistol in Sylus’ right hand. Grey ringlettes of smoke lazily twirling upwards before slowly dissipating.
Your horrified eyes flicker between the still warm gun and Sylus, not a single emotion in display.
“What did you do?” You whisper in disbelief, but there’s a hint of fear in your question. Sylus has hurt men a plenty, especially ones who are attracted to You. But he’s never killed anyone.
Sylus doesn’t bother to answer. Instead, he just snaps his fingers and two men appear, as if out of thin air. They drag the man who had fallen from his chair, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Zayne
River doesn’t like getting his physical exam.
He genuinely believes that it’s some ploy from the pharmaceutical industries to have the 1% cough up all their hard earned money to pay for some disease that doesn’t exist. He knows that in some countries, illness is business so unhealthy food is produced to ensure that commoners get sick so they can keep the pharmaceutical industries afloat.
After all, if River is exercising regularly and is eating an all organic diet, then there’s no reason for him to get his physical exam done.
But his wife wouldn’t stop nagging him about it. He has a bad case of food poisoning once, and his wife cries ‘You’re dying!’, even though he insists it’s most likely from the prawn cocktail he had after playing golf with his business partners. The only way to get her to shut up is to finally show up for his doctor’s appointment.
Thankfully, his wife is competent enough to schedule him an appointment with a doctor who’s quick with his hands. The check-up only lasted half an hour and River is buttoning up his cotton blouse. He should make it to the golf club within the hour.
“I must say, Dr. Zayne,” River says while fixing up his tie, “Your mental fortitude is most impressive. I can’t imagine myself concentrating on work with that thing walking around.” he highlights his point by swiftly smacking Y/N’s ass.
Nurse Y/N’s mouth falls open, scandalized, before contorting into a vexatious twist. Before she could react to River’s sexual harassment, Zayne lifts his hand to stop her.
“It was a pleasure having you today, Mr. Collins. Please make sure to see Shelly about your appendectomy appointment.”
River Collins mock salutes Dr. Zayne, tosses a wink at the hot nurse’s way and makes his exit with a cheery whistle.
Two weeks fly by and it’s time for River’s surgery. Though Dr. Zayne has informed him that he will be discharged in the morning, Mr. Collins will see to it that he’s out of the hospital as soon as he wakes up and take the earliest flight to Monaco to recover. Maybe he’ll ask his hot nurse to join him since he’s in a vulnerable state and he needs someone like her to nurse him back to health. Unlike his wife who will most likely nag his ear off with all the fussing. If it weren’t for the fact that she comes from a distinguished family whose head is as rich and powerful as the ruling family, he would have divorced her a long time ago.
Nurse Hottie places a general anesthesia mask over River’s face. He smiles, albeit it comes off as loopy. She returns it with a tight lipped smile. Oh, River is definitely going to bring her along to Monaco. He has always loved a challenge he knows that nurse Y/N won’t be easily conquered. He can’t wait when he wakes up.
River blinks and darkness encompasses him. He blinks again. This time, his eyes squint at the glaring fluorescent light flickering above him. Dust floats under the artificial radiance. A dark ceiling welcomes River once his vision clears. Aged wood is decaying, like a weathered warrior who has been into countless wars. A rancid odor overwhelmed River’s senses. Dampness with a hint of rusted metal perfumes the air. There are cobwebs nestled in the corners of the ceiling, along with an array of broken windows.
River goes to sit up but he is instantly pulled back.
“What the—?”
“Mr. Collins, seems like you’re finally awake.” River follows the source of sound but he is rendered immoble. He thrashes. Hoping that whatever is holding him will loosen and set him free. But when his attempts fail, he finally glances downwards. River’s eyes widen in alarm at the leather straps pinning him down on the gurney. The very same one he laid down on when he went for his surgery. But what surprises River the most is that he is completely naked.
“What is the meaning of this?” River shouts with acidic anger in his voice as he continues to thrash, still hoping that he can break free somehow.
A face appears in his vision, one of a smiling Dr. Zayne.
“There’s no need to panic.” Dr. Zayne gently soothes River while pulling up his medical mask. A snap resounds throughout the room as the doctor slips on his latex gloves. “This is just a simple procedure that will end in no time.”
A tingle rushes across River’s skin, sharp and cold, at Dr. Zayne’s smile. He opens his mouth to cajole with the doctor but rattling from down the hallway stops him. Lifting his head as best as he can, River is relieved to see the pretty nurse.
“Nurse, nurse!” He calls, unaware of just how desperate and petrified he sounds. “Get me out of here!” He dons on what he knows is a pleading look, “Get me out and I’ll give you the world.” He smiles though it quivers.
Nurse Y/N stands next to Dr. Zayne. She brushes away the bangs that fall into the doctor’s glasses, clicking her tongue in playful annoyance, “I told you to get your hair cut.”
Dr. Zayne doesn’t look annoyed. If anything, he appears happy to have his nurse fussing over him.
“I will,” Soft, and in love, is what River would describe Dr. Zayne at that moment if he isn’t scared for his life. “Right after we’re done.”
“You better.” Nurse Y/N mutters.
Dr. Zayne then focuses his attention on River. And River swears that he almost pissed himself at the icy staring boring into him.
“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Collins?”
River Collins shakes his head.
“I don’t appreciate you harassing my female staff. Not only did you openly convey lewd comments to nurse Shelly, you also touched nurse Y/N. You see, I don’t like it when people touch what’s mine.” Dr. Zayne tuts, as if explaining to a child the consequences of their actions.
River’s gaze shifts between the doctor and the nurse, both of them staring at him with pity at his incompetence.
“I-I’m sorry.” River apologizes, breath shaky and tongue dry, “I won’t do it again…P-Promise!”
Dr. Zayne laughs, “I’m certain you won’t. I’ll make sure of that.”, he gently smacks River’s cheek.
With a wave of his hand, Dr. Zayne beckons nurse Y/N forward, “It’s time to begin the procedure.”
River thrashes, left and right, like an animal sent to the slaughter house. “You won’t get away with this!” He screams, tears streaming down his cheeks without his knowledge. “People will be looking for me.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” For the first time that night, nurse Y/N addresses him. “Who will be searching for a man who publicly cheats on his wife? Why would anyone waste their time and resources on scum like you?” She says this in a light and cheery tone, complementing the mania in her beautiful eyes.
Even as nurse Y/N holds the scalpel in front of River, fluorescent light gleaming off of the thin metal, she looks ethereal.
“This will hurt.” Dr. Zayne informs River. He then nods for Y/N to begin.
Maybe it’s because River Collins has lost all hope. Or maybe that he has accepted that this is karmic punishment. Whatever it may be, River Collins doesn’t feel a prick of pain as Y/N cuts an incision from his chest all the way down to his belly button.
As River lays down bleeding, seconds, minutes, hours or an eternity later, distorted words whisper in his ears.
“What a shame to have such wonderful organs operating on trash like him.”
“Nurse Y/N, make sure to properly store them. Call our patients after and send them the location to our usual meet up. Stress that discretion is of utmost priority.”
A single tear rolls down River’s pale cheek.
He always knew that doctors, pharmacies and the medical practice were up to no good. He just wasn’t expecting it like this.
Had River known that this is his end, he would have lived his life differently.
Caleb
Stale sweat and axe body spray lingers permanently at the local gym in Y/N’s neighborhood.
Personally speaking, Y/N doesn’t like going to the gym. The amount of equipment overwhelmes her and the price of a monthly subscription makes her head spin. She much prefers to walk around the neighborhood than stand awkwardly in the middle of the gym, self conscious of her appearance and her lack of workout knowledge.
Yet, during her many late night phone calls with Caleb, her childhood best friend, she shares with him one of her biggest fears. Come morning, her best friend is at her door, dressed in his grey gym shorts and white compression tank top. His Apple Watch strapped to his left hand, gym bang hanging off of one shoulder and determination burning in his eyes.
It took a lot of convincing, words of affirmation sent to Y/N’s phone every morning — as that’s Caleb’s preferred time to go to the gym —, being tagged under countless inspirational videos on TikTok. This goes on for two months until Y/N finally caves in. The trick? It’s starting to get difficult to carry babies at the nursery due to her lack of strength. Fearing she might lose her job, or worse, drop a child because her arms are too weak, Y/N agrees to apply for a gym membership. But only for one month!!
A year later and Y/N has yet to quit going to the gym.
She is more toned now. Y/N can carry her students at the nursery without tiring. She completes an entire workout session without hating herself. And best of all, she is immensely proud of herself for beating her fears. With Caleb as instructor, nothing seemed impossible.
Y/N is at the gym today; a sunny Saturday morning where she starts her day with a full body strength workout. Y/N is in front of a mirror performing sumo squats with a ten kilometer kettlebell while Caleb is at the boxing ring.
Unbeknownst to Y/N, Caleb’s jaw tense, the veins in his neck are dangerously pronounced. His body’s growing hot as his opponent invades his ears with disgusting remarks.
“God, what I’d do to have that.” The man avows, pointing with his head as Y/N squats in front of the mirror, her leggings stretching tight each time show lowers her body down. There’s a nasty grin on the man’s ugly face, one that has Caleb tasting bile on his tongue.
A clang of a bell signals the beginning of the next round, and Caleb charges in.
Caleb quickly latches onto his opponent’s arm, using his momentum and weight to take him down. He could’ve easily ended the fight then and there but his anger isn’t satiated.
When his opponent is back on his feet, Caleb lets him get a punch in but just before his tapped fist touches him, Caleb slips to the right and immediately follows it with an uppercut aimed at the chin and ends it with a punch to the gut.
“What the fu—”
Caleb steps forward and throws an overhand right. His opponent swiftly blocks the oncoming attack but then Caleb unexpectedly drops and grabs his opponent’s ankles, successfully taking him down.
Without wasting a second, Caleb grips his opponent’s arm, bends it at a ninety degree angle, and applies pressure until a satisfying pop resounds throughout the boxing ring.
“Motherfu—!” His opponent howls in pain.
Caleb jumps to his feet, ignoring the man yelling profanities at him, as a coach slips into the boxing ring. He gives Caleb a stern look but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s reprimanding the injured opponent.
“I told you not to make gross comments!” The couch is helping the man, slowly getting him on his feet, “I warned you that something like this would happen.”
Caleb fights off the smirk threatening to stretch on his lips. He doesn’t want to alert Y/N to what had happened. Good thing she likes to listen to music while working out.
“Y/N!” Caleb waves at his best friend through the mirror, “Let’s go get frozen yoghurt. My treat!”
A beaming smile spreading across Y/N’s face is totally worth dislocating that creep’s shoulder.
Rafayel
Ruckus applause and ear shattering whistles greets crown prince Rafayel as he steps onto the stands designated for royals and esteemed guests. His smile is bright and radiant, causing the cheers to grow louder.
Though many had doubted his claim to the throne, mainly to his youthful face, jewels for eyes, voice as sweet as honey, and a charming personality, prince Rafayel has proven himself worthy of the crown that weighs heavily on those bold enough to wear it.
“Let the tournament begin!” Rafayel declares, loud and clear, a slight laugh escapes his lips as the crowd goes into a frenzy. Though the majority of the audience are too green for battle, their stomachs crave for bloodshed, hungry for the sight of men injuring, or even killing, their brethren.
This season’s jousting tournament is satisfactory…to the people. To Rafayel, this competition is a cheap imitation of an actual battle. Iron doesn’t perfume the air with its sharp scent. Ravens do not circle the skies, waiting for the final breath of the fallen to be exhaled and swoop in to pick at their fresh corpse.
Here, at this tournament, in the safety of the Kingdom of Linkon, there are only gruntled cries of the fallen accompanied with cheers and the thundering stomps of the audience as they demand for the next round.
In all honesty, the jousting tournament is a derivative affair to prince Rafayel. However, protocol demands that he attends such tourneys to boost morale. If the prince commerces with his people, then it is proof to them that he is in good health and fit for the role of the king.
Rafayel claps politely, a gentle smile on his lips, as a knight from a foreign nation is lifted to the infirmary tent. Disappointed chatter from the ladies at court reaches his ears and Rafayel is inclined to agree at the subpar performance. He holds the sigh that threatens to rush through his lips.
A galloping horse captures Rafayel’s attention. Its stride is confident where the rider sits tall and proud. Why, if prince Rafayel hadn’t known any better, he would have mistaken him for a royal but none of the royal envoys are participating today. His siblings aren’t either because they’re all dead, a brutal event for Rafayel to proclaim his right to the throne.
“The Cavalier of Courage!” Marchioness Y/N proclaims, giddy, as she and her entourage of female nobility, of whom Rafayel never bothered to learn their names as only one of them truly mattered, giggle like little girls as the knight marches in front of them.
The knight, or, The Cavalier of Courage bows in greeting, his metal armor glowing, as if it were made from diamonds, under the sun. “My prince.” he bows his head at Rafayel. Though his face is hidden, the prince can sense his friendly demeanor.
After being acknowledged by the prince, the knight turns to face the noblewomen, “My ladies.” he bows again. Satisfied with their shy giggles, he lifts his visor and Rafayel watches, helpless, as the knight boldly points his lance at Marchioness Y/N, “Lady L/N,” there’s a bashful smile on his chapped lips while his cheeks tinge a strawberry red, “May I have your favor?”
No one notices the sudden heaviness in the air as the courageous knight’s question lingers in the open space. No one, except Marchioness Y/N. She doesn’t look back, knows better than to bring attention to herself and the person she seeks for guidance. With reluctance, Marchioness Y/N ties a sky blue ribbon on the lance extended before her.
The courageous knight grins, showing just how young he really is, before bowing once more and pulling his visor down. He guides his horse to its designated place and awaits the horn to be blown. Yet, just as his competitor trots to the scene, prince Rafayel raises a hand. This simple gesture sends the crowd into silence.
“I would like to join.”
Seconds pass before the audience erupts into chaotic cheers. They chant his name, excited for the upcoming fight. This isn’t a cheer of flattery. Everyone knows how strong and ruthless crown prince Rafayel is when at war and being bestowed this honor of seeing a shadow of his frightening prowess, only a fool would look away.
Marchioness Y/N feels a gaze burning at the back of her head yet she dares not to look. It is no secret that she and the prince have an…entanglement. However, she isn’t foolish enough to flaunt her affair with the prince. The royal palace is a dangerous place, an open invitation to do whatever it is necessary to earn the prince’s favor, even if it is at the price of a soul.
Though prince Rafayel’s footsteps are light, it is a thunderous boom that rattles Marchioness Y/N. Suddenly, a knot forms in her stomach and her tongue feels heavy in her mouth. She resists the urge to twist her self embroidered handkerchief, her etiquette tutor chastising her for her nervous habit echoes in her mind.
That foolish knight. What prompted him to ask for her favor? Is it possible that he is deaf to the whispers of her relations to the prince? Or could it be that he is foolish enough to challenge the prince of all people to win her heart?
Marchioness Y/N watches nervously as Rafayel jumps onto his horse and lowers his visor, his left hand waving at his adoring people.
This will not end well.
The horn is sound and the players charge. The noise grows smaller and smaller until it is barely audible to Marchioness Y/N. Her eyes follow the movements of her lover and the fool as they grow near.
The Cavalier of Courage aims for Rafayel’s vulnerable spot but, at the last second, his horse teeters, and the knight loses his balance. Noticing his chance, Rafayel is quick to strike his opponent. A sickening crack resounds through the open air that sends Marchioness Y/N’s heart tumbling to her stomach.
Gasps echo through the stands before hoots and yells of praise can be heard throughout the Kingdom of Linkon. Color drains from Marchioness Y/N’s face at the sight of the knight’s head turned all the way to the back, looking like an owl. She can feel this morning’s meal surging up her throat but she swallows it down.
Crown prince Rafayel lifts his visor and, to others, it appears he is staring at his father, as if reminding him of who will be leading his kingdom in a year’s time. However, Marchioness Y/N knows, believes, that he is staring at her. His eyes silently remind her that he will not tolerate anyone coveting what is his.
