#edit: ch 3 pt x —>

[dkniade]

Fanart of @blood-orange-juice’s early Fatui Ajax fic “Transcendere” that I did not long ago ^^

This part’s from chapter one.

It is, as the fic’s tags say, Fluff and Angst and Humour, Slice of Life, Hurt No Comfort

(Or, like snapshots of a boy with a toy knife becoming a weapon himself, with a vaguely fantastical lens over the story♦️…to put it nicely ^^”)

[icequeenbae]

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net  @k-vanity  @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

[watsittoyah]

Watsittoyah Master List!

Here are some of my fan fics that have either made it to the internet and prospered or just got the axe for lack of interaction. (I will update this later but please don’t expect it soon I sometimes forget to charge my lap top and I’ll get to editing)

Marvel Roster (These guys are cooler than the other side of the pillow)

1. Namor- Sitting on the throne (one shot?) NSFW

2. Namor- Hate that I love you (Still typing?)NSFW

3. Moon Knight- Anchors (Still typing)NSFW

4. Miguel O’Hara, Spider-man 2099- Along came a spider 2099 (Completed)NSFW

ch.1- Don't I know you?

ch.2- Bites & Fangs

ch.3- Tinted Windows

ch.4- Just To Put My Mind At Ease

ch.5- The Skeletons In His Closet

ch.6- The Calm Before The Storm

ch.7- Everything Is Not What It Seems...

ch.8- In A Snap

ch.9- And The Puzzles Fall Into Place

ch.10- Arachnophobia Behavior…

ch.11- Perfection Can’t Be Obtained…

ch.12- Pumpkin Pie Is Best Served Cold (Pt1)

ch.13-And The Truth Comes To Light…

ch.14- Pumpkin Pie Is Best Served Cold Pt.2

5. Miles Morales Spider-Man- A Glitch In the universe (To be announced)

STRANGER THINGS (Don’t look at me like that…)

1. Eddie Munson x Blk Fem Reader X Steve Harrington- Heartbreaker (Still typing) NSFW

ch.1- Rule Number One

ch.2- Rule Number Two

ch.3- Rule Number Three

ch.4- Rule Number Four

ch.5- Rule Number Five

EUPHORIA (You knew this was coming)

1. Nate Jacobs x Blk Fem Reader -Mixtape (Still Typing) NSFW

Track 1

DC Comics (My Best boys, and all of their smutty glory!!)

Dick Grayson X Blk Fem Reader- Prayers Of A Sinner -(Currently typing) NSFW

Ch. 1- Thou Shall Not Kill...

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Blk Fem!reader -Before the Snow, Came the Flame.. (Nsfw/ Currently typing/posting)

Ch. 00-Just Say Yes

Ch. 01- A Rose With Thorns (Pt. 1)

An Obsessive!Qimir X Blk Fem!reader (oc, star wars smut fic) - The Devil's Playpen (nsfw currently typing)

CH. 01- When The Predator Becomes Prey...

CH. 02- Fear Is Only A Four Letter Word...

CH. 03- When He's Good, He's Great. But When He's Evil...

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.3 -- Demons' 101 (cw// banner has flashing txt!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): slight implications of anxiety, rengoku info-dumps about demons, Taco being Taco

w.count: 6.3k

synopsis: if someone told you that one night you’d find yourself walking down the street at three in the morning before you were running for your life away from a disjointed monster hot on your heels- you’d probably check for fever or intoxication. but, when that actually happens, all you think of is running and praying for a miracle as you stare death in the face. turns out, that miracle comes in the form of reassuring smiles and a red sword beneath a bridge and by the riverside.

-x-x-x-

a/n: hope y'all are ready bc shes back!! read the a/n pt.2 at the end for further instructions heheh (if there's still grammatical errors soz i edited this in chunks and couldn't be bothered to reread everything one more time)

-x-x-x-

You were slouched against your locker in the back room where your aprons and extra clothes are kept by the end of your shift. The izakaya had finally closed, and while it was closed earlier than usual since patrons seemed to have filed out pretty quick tonight, the way your throbbing ankle felt didn't make the early closing any better. You had willed away most of the pain, carrying on as if nothing was wrong, and kept yourself busy with micro-breaks here and there, but now that it was all said and done, well, you’ve felt better. 

You quickly took off your apron and tossed it in your locker and grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. Snatching your crutch, you placed it under your shoulder and sighed when you lifted your foot and relieved it of your weight. 

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself before you’re hobbling your way out of the locker room, through the main lobby all the way to the entrance. You shouted to whoever may be around still, be it lingering coworkers or your boss, before you slid open the door and left. With a small show of your balance, you pushed the door shut with your crutch as you stood on your one good leg before bringing the crutch back down where it needed to be. 

You sidle to the right away from the entrance, just out of reach for the hanging lamps to cast a shadow over you when you take a shaky breath. You found yourself paranoid in the early morning hours- but, you couldn’t blame yourself. The last time you were out this late after a shift, you almost died. You took a deep breath, then another… then another. You try calming yourself down, convincing yourself that what happened was a once-in-a-lifetime freak accident and there was no way you’d be unlucky enough to get caught up in something like that again. 

“It’s fine,” you tell yourself. “I’m fine,” you repeat. The palm you used to grab the handle of your crutch felt sweaty, so you took it off for a moment and furiously wiped it on your shirt before returning it.  “You’re going to be fine,” you hiss to yourself, looking down at your feet, one uninjured and the other replaced with a crutch foot. The same feet that still wouldn’t move despite your pep talk. 

Stuck in your mental battle on when you’re finally going to get your limbs to start taking you home, you completely miss the person walking up behind you until they call out to you. 

“Is your ankle in much pain?” 

You squawk, your crutch jumping out away from your leg and making your teeter before correcting yourself and using your other arm to reach across your body and grab onto the medical addition to your body in further stability. Whipping your head up, you once again come face to face with Rengoku. Still smiling, even if there’s a hint of concern in his wide eyes since he didn’t exactly mean to spook you. You also took notice of his arms that were outstretched and ready to catch you if you began careening down to the pavement.

You correct your posture and face him, feeling embarrassed for a number of reasons. 

“I’m slated to never have a normal greeting with you, am I?” You speak more to yourself than him since every time you’ve encountered him so far- not including when he was a paying customer not so long ago- has been riddled with embarrassment or fear. You’ve come face to face with him three times now, and you conducted yourself better in front of Kocho who you had met once and stripped down to your bones in front of. “What are you still doing out at this hour?” 

“I am doing a simple round of patrols for this sector of the city,” he tells you and your eyes finally drift down to see the white sheath on his hip supported by the harness he wore on his chest and over his shoulders- the same items he had when you first saw him. Seeing them again made a lump form in your throat that you tried to choke down. You felt a bit stupid for the question because what else would he be doing out this late when you’ve seen first hand what could happen. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you shake your head and scoff at yourself, “I could’ve guessed.” 

“No need to apologize!” That didn’t exactly reassure you. Rengoku was good at reading people, he spent a lot of time doing so among his years, so your unsteady and somewhat jittery presence did not fly over his head. “Are you heading home?” 

“Planning on it, yeah.” 

“It’s much earlier than last time, that is good!” 

“It was a slow night so we closed down earlier.” 

“Would you like an escort home?” 

“An escort?” Your words were short as you confirm what he’s just asked you. Part of you hates that he basically just told you that he can see your paranoia and anxiousness as clear as day. You glance away and gnaw at your lip, conflicted. You most certainly didn’t want to walk home alone, the nightmarish memories haunting you like a... well like a demon. But you also didn’t want to appear fragile because you couldn’t walk home like you had a thousand times before. 

You take a deep, shaky breath as Rengoku steps closer to you, his hair lighting up further as he gets closer to the hanging lanterns behind you. The colors and shades nearing the light resembling a warm campfire to keep woodland terrors at bay. A safe beacon.

“It is not wrong to be afraid.” 

“I'm not!” You instinctively argue back, but immediately bite your own tongue realizing that raising your voice at his kindness was most certainly rude. However, even a two year old could tell that your words were clearly a lie. You sigh again, apologizing for your outburst. “Yes, I am,” you admit more to yourself than to him.

Rengoku just smiles down at your averted eyes and moves to stand beside you before gently slipping your purse off your shoulder and slotting it up his arm to rest on his own. He outstretched his opposite arm as he caught your eyes again and gently signaled you to start moving at your own pace. 

“Allow me to walk you home then.” With him already having taken your purse and gestured his intent to not be swayed on his decision, you smirk teasing up at him and chuckle. 

“Arguing won’t get me anywhere, will it?” 

Not that you really wanted it to.

“It will not!” Well, at least he was honest. 

The walk back was relatively quiet, save for the nighttime crickets that chirped along with the toads hidden away in corners. The sounds of the cicadas had lessened from this afternoon to a dull buzz instead of mind-numbing shrills. You kept taking glances at Rengoku, your purse hanging off the shoulder closest to you as you hobbled along on your crutches. You could barely see the tip of his sword's hilt from around him without being too obvious you were even looking to begin with. He must’ve kept it as horizontal to his leg as possible to avoid catching whatever riff-raff attention could be mangling around. 

“Does something interest you?” Apparently, you weren’t as sneaky as you thought. You shoot your gaze forwards, nearly stumbling on your set of extra rubber feet and clearing your throat, the summer air suddenly way too dry for the humid season. 

“I just, well, I didn’t think you’d notice?” You tell him honestly. He chuckles at your words and you feel a little better since he doesn’t sound freaked out by your clearly awkward behavior. “I guess I was a little curious about your, what do you call it, second job? The whole,” you lift one of your crutches, stopping your movements momentarily as you whip it around and grunt (rather embarrassingly) before putting it back down, “sword job thing?” 

He laughs before letting out a small “Ah!” in recognition of your curiosity. Maybe it was because of the early hours, but part of you feared an apartment window flicking on in response to his boisterous laughter. Still, you easily admitting to yourself that it was a lovely sound. 

“Curiosity may not be the wisest decision when it is about what goes on after the sun sets. Sometimes, it’s best that people believe demon’s are nothing but fictional stories made up simply to spook children.” 

“Oh,” you were a little disappointed. You had already been attacked and injured, it’s not like you’d call him a liar if he told you. “I see.” You still wanted to know more, even if it was terrifying. With your crestfallen expression and new goal to just get home without creating an uncomfortable atmosphere, you missed the small look the flame-haired man gave you. 

“Regardless of my skills, being out so late at night can be dangerous for anyone,” he starts, eyes casting forwards once more as he continues to lead you home. “There are many kinds of demons under the moon, and some can be more ferocious than others. If one catches sight of myself or another of my…” he pauses to find a decent word. “... coworkers,” he decides on, “chances are split that they flee from us, or do the opposite and begin a confrontation if they’re feeling particularly omnipotent.” 

That small piece of information made you feel a little better about his choice to stay quiet about it all, his choice to disclose that even he wasn’t always 100% safe was bone chilling. Still, it did not soothe your curiousity completely. You decided to shake it off, you were acting like a child- it wasn’t your business and this man was nothing more than a stranger you’ve run into a couple times. The fact he literally saved your life had nothing to do with it- you had to let it go. 

It was rude to pry. 

“Perhaps when we get to your home I can answer your questions there.” You stop in your limping steps as you look at him. He was smiling at you, something warm and comforting and you seemed to light up. “That is if I would be allowed inside a young woman’s house at this hour.” 

“Of course!” Perhaps you were too loud because you immediately covered your mouth with one hand, nearly dropping one of your crutches. You look around, seeing no light flick on and no windows opening to yell for you to keep it down. You lower your hand, a small smile on your face as you clear your throat. “Of course,” you repeat, much more quietly this time. “As long as you don’t mind a temporarily handicapped host and one obnxiously sassy cat.” 

He laughs loudly again. “I happen to be fond of cats and your company as well!” 

“We’ve met twice, and one of those times I was covered in grass stains, dirt, and sweat.”

“I am a very good judge of character!” You roll your eyes, but somehow, you believe him. 

-x-x-x-

“Um, just take your shoes off at the door please.” You tell Rengoku as you sit yourself on the small stool you’ve set up by the front door so you can take your shoes off without much fuss. He easily complies, as he steps into your house only to turn and patiently wait for you to finish up. As you drop your shoes, he offers his arm as you gratefully take it and hoist yourself up with the use of the cane you keep at your door in exchange for your crutches. 

In the comfort of your own home that you could maneuver through blindfolded, you greatly preferred the short, ease of use of a cane. You kept it a secret from Kocho though, who knows if she’d scold you for the unprompted buy since she was probably the most professional and strict doctor you’ve been the patient of. 

Luckily, since Rengoku had been in your home this much before, he let you use his arm with your free hand all the way until you got into the living room. Much like how he carried you in before. You slip your palm off his forearm and step around him, much less clunky without your crutches. 

“Have a seat. I don’t have much to offer, but I do have cold bottled water I can promise hasn't been opened,” you joke as he laughs. 

“I appreciate the hospitality, however you do not need to-” 

“Ah-tata,” you cut him off, “just because my foot isn’t at peak recovery doesn’t mean I can’t get you a small bottle of water. The kitchen isn’t far anyways.” Rengoku relented. Just as it was impossible to argue with him, it seemed to go both ways. He smiled. 

He liked that. 

As you disappeared into the kitchen, a small meow and curious tap against his shin caught his attention as he stood by the couch. He smiled down at the black cat as he slid his sword out of the harness he wore and set it gently against the couch so as to not startle your pet. He knelt, offering his hand out as Taco’s little nose bumped against it, sniffing before rubbing his head against the warm knuckles of Rengoku. 

“Aren’t you cute,” he mumbles to himself. 

“Only around guests,” you add, coming back into the living room to see Rengoku loving on your cat. “He’s cute now, but he’s a big pain in my butt when he wants to be.” You offer him a cold bottle of some random brand of water you bought on sale.

“Aren’t many animals that way?” He graciously takes the plastic bottle from you, the chill of it is a welcome change in his warm palm. 

“I think it’s because I spoil him too much. He was a very unprompted rescue, so I went a little overboard raising him.” 

“There is nothing wrong with raising an animal with so much care! He seems very happy!” 

You plop yourself on the couch and Taco was quick to abandon Rengoku’s side in favor of yourself as he jumped on the cushions and stepped onto your lap where he folded his legs and lay himself down. You scratch at his back, making him stretch and roll before he’s trying to play and swipe at your hand and fingers. 

The small little tag that read ‘TACO’ in engraved letters caught Rengoku’s eye and he chuckled at the name. Indeed, that was a very happy and loved cat, he had no doubt. 

“You’re welcome to sit on the couch,” you lightly joke at his still kneeling form on your livingroom floor. He does as you suggest, thanking you before sitting a cushion away from you as to not push personal boundaries or opposingly seem too standoff-ish. It was quiet for a bit as you fiddle with your own waterbottle in your hand. “I hope I’m not causing any trouble,” you announce bashfully. 

“Pardon?” 

“Well,” you breathe, untwisting, then retwisting, just to untwist your bottle cap again to try and focus on something other than your sudden anxiety. “I just sort of dragged you here. I dunno, I feel like I’m pulling you away from your job? I know how important it is.” 

“Worry not,” he quells. “There are many others like myself who also patrol the streets when the sun sets! I am not the only one, so my company here is no trouble at all!” 

“Oh, right, you mentioned other coworkers. Are there a lot of you?” 

“There is! We’re an organization of many people, but since we’re unrecognized by the government and since people do not believe in demon’s unless they survive an encounter with one, we are very scarcely known.” You nod at him. You feel a little sad at the fact he, and others like him, were risking their safety and no one even knew. “In fact, there are even a few of my students who work along side me as well!” 

“Students?” You whip your full attention to him at mention of children. “You’re a teacher?” 

“I am!” 

“And you all just, what? Let children into your little demon-slaying job?” 

“Well, not exactly, no.” Rengoku worried he wold break into a sweat at your accusatory tone of getting children involved in clearly dangerous work. “Although it is dangerous, younger slayers are put through rigirous training and must past a very specific qualification test before they can even take to the field like I do. We of higher ranking always make sure to watch out for our young underlings. They are our future after all!” 

The idea of kids fighting those… things still didn’t sit quite right with you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. And if Rengoku says that they’re well taken care of, and skillful above that, then surely they weren’t in too much danger. You wanted to trust his words so you shut your eyes and willed yourself to do so.

“Plus, we are not so reckless as to just assign anything to anyone. No demon is slain by a slayer who is weaker than the task at hand. We’re very meticulous about such things.” 

“I understand.” You open your eyes and glance over at your cane for a moment then speak up again. “So, what are demons exactly?” 

“Demons are former humans who have either been killed and revived by demon blood, or made a deal with another demon for power.” 

“Former humans?” Your mind flashed back to the spindly, disfigured, skeletal demon that attacked you. “So, that thing that attacked me? That was once a person?” Rengoku nodded and a chill ran violently down your spine. 

“At some point, yes it was. However, based on its appearance, it must’ve been a demon for a very long time to change that much.” That didn’t exactly make you feel better about it. “You must understand that demons are dangerous creatures regardless of what they used to be. They will not hesitate to attack and slaughter humans. We do not kill demons for sport, it is necessary to protect future victims.” 

“I believe you and I understand- I do, it’s just… a lot to process, I guess?” You blow a harsh breath out of your lips. “So, how do you kill them? I mean with your sword I guess, but is there any other way?” 

Rengoku nodded, grabbing his sword’s scabbard and hilt before drawing it. The red blade you had gotten a glimpse of the night of the attack shone brilliantly in your well-lit living room. It was truly a beautiful blade to look at and the sword guard in the shape of flames was very fitting to its wielder. 

“To kill a demon it must be done with a very specific sword with a blade made out of a specific mineral that’s been bathed in sunlight for many years. This is a nichirin sword, a sword that has a color changing blade.” 

“So, a regular sword wouldn’t work?” 

“Correct!” He offers his sword over for you to hold and inspect it. You gently take it from him after you move Taco out of the way so that he wouldn’t start playing with it like it was a toy. “You can hack a demon into pieces with a regular blade, but it will always regenerate. A demon must be decapitated with a nichirin sword or it will continue to wreck havoc.” You hand the sword back to him and he easily sheaths it with practiced ease. “However, there are ways to defend yourself from demons, if you’d like to hear?” 

You nod, intrigued by the entirely new concept of the world you had been so oblivious to for so many years of your life. You wanted to know more, to understand more. It was captivating and if he was willing to tell, you were willing to listen. 

“There are special guns forged in our line of work that have crafted bullets that cause great harm to demons! Among other ways to deter them, demons are unable to stand wisteria.” 

“Wistera? Like the flower?” 

“Yes! Clusters of Wisteria trees are always a safe place to run to in the event one is close by. Even wisteria-scented charms and poisons are toxic and painful to their kind, they actively avoid anything to do with it. In fact, Kocho is a demon slayer, the same as I!” 

“Really?!” Rengoku laughs loudly at your shock, but after a moment it did make sense. She was specifically referred by him and knew everything about what you experienced and believed it easily. If you had stopped to think about it, it was pretty easy to assume she was involved somehow, but a fighter? That was a bit of a shock considering her stature.

“Though she does not have the strength to cut a demon’s head off its shoulders, she’s developed a technique that incorporates poisons in her duty that are lethal upon injection.”

“Wow,” you awe. She was more impressive by the day. 

“Of course, it helps that she’s also a very skilled doctor!” 

“That’s true,” you lightly giggle. There’s silence in your living room once more as you glance over at the blond haired man. “So,” you start and gain his attention, “you’re a teacher?” You already knew the answer, he answered you earlier but it was the best ice breaker you could think of.  

“That is correct.” 

“I feel like I could’ve guessed if you didn’t already tell me. You explain things well. Your students must like you.” 

“I cannot say how well I am at teaching in particular, but my student’s grades never drop to failing marks! You must keep the children interested in the lesson if you wish for them to grow. I do my best to achieve nothing less!” 

“What do you teach?” 

“History! I find it very fascinating- the past that is.” You nod. “Not to mention, I have been teaching my younger brother many things since we were young and I always enjoyed doing so. So, the profession grew on me. I very quickly knew what I wanted to do with my life during the time the sun is in the sky.” 

“A younger brother? How old is he?” 

“He’s currently in high school. Despite our age gap, we get along very well!” 

“That’s great that you both get along. I’m an only child myself, but I do have a younger cousin. He feels more like a kid brother though, so I can sort of understand. The school’s he’s attending right now has dorm buildings for it’s students, so we don’t visit much,” you reminisce as you comfortably cross your arms. 

“I’m sure you miss him.” 

“Sometimes,” you chuckle. “Then there are times I’m glad he’s not actually my brother, as horrible as that sounds.” 

“Regardless, I’m sure he feels the same!” 

Thankfully, before the conversation took a turn for the mushy, Taco started to meow at you. He had jumped onto the floor earlier after being taken off your lap and roamed before coming back to paw at your leg. You leaned down and scratched under his chin as you felt him purr. 

“I know, you need to be fed,” you tell him as you start coddling him. You excuse yourself as Rengoku got off the couch to help you to your feet before you were off to the kitchen again, Taco trotting eagerly behind you. 

In the silence of your living room alone again, Kyojuro Rengoku looked around the room at all the decorations. Some frames on the wall here, some dry plants there, a couple cat toys scattered around the floor that was no doubt Taco’s doing, and a grey cat tower was close to the main window in the room where the dark curtains were drawn for the night. Despite all that he was visually taking in, he was stuck in his thoughts.  

Kyojuro was always a people person, he enjoyed chatting and making connections, it was another reason he loved teaching so much.  Something about tonight felt different to him though. Like this one experience with this one person- you- was something out of the ordinary. LIke it was something special. 

When you came back from feeding Taco, you carried random conversation topics before an ill-timed alarm went off on his phone that had been stuffed in his pocket this whole time. The sudden sound startled you and Rengoku was quick to apologize before realizing how late it was. If he didn’t get home and get at least some sleep, tomorrow’s lesson would surely be a lackadaisical one. 

You saw him out, despite how much he insisted you not be on your feet, and before you knew it he was outside your door and then gone. 

“He’s fast,” you muttered to the air he used to occupy before shutting your door and double-checking to make sure you did in fact lock it. You looked at both sides of your front door devoid of any decorations. “Maybe I should get some tables or something to put some flowers on so the front entrance isn’t so boring.” 

With that last thought, you called for Taco because you needed to get to bed yourself. Sleep found you easily as opposed to the last few nights, and with it brought nothing but calm darkness. You were grateful for a night of sleep without nightmares.

-x-x-x-

Another week had passed and a small part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t heard or seen heads or tails of Rengoku again. He hadn’t been by the izakaya with his friend or anyone else for that matter, and you haven’t had the pleasure of running into him in the streets. Of course, the moment the feeling of disappointment nagged at you, you immediately tried to squash it down.

Despite the fact that he was A) someone who saved your life and B) a man you allowed into your home a grand total of two times didn’t erase the fact that he was still practically a stranger. A stranger who spilled his guts about his profession and gave a brief history lesson about demons in your living room, but a stranger nonetheless. 

Your foot had improved drastically since a week ago and you could now walk without dragging a crutch or cane around with you. The pain would still sometimes ebb at the joint, but you’d always try and find a place for a pitstop to rest and take any on-hand pain medication before it got too bad. 

Your current pitstop? Your local library. 

You didn’t really have any explanation why you decided to come here on your spare time, furthermore why you were nosing around in the historical section. Granted, the books you picked up weren’t full of information you didn’t already know- but you still flipped through the pages standing in the empty isle regardless completely engrossed in the material.

After your skip around history, you made sure to replace all the books from where you got them (or the best you could remember) and moved to make your way out into the open space between sections. The library attendant's desk with a single employee sitting behind it with their nose in a book to pass by the shift was within sight of the wide open space. 

The day was slowly starting to wane and you sat yourself at an unoccupied table close to a window that showed the streets that were starting the transformation of throngs of people to freckles of bodies. You push your chin into your palm as you watch out the window mindlessly. You didn’t have a shift tonight that demanded your attendance and you felt restless. It was strange, normally you’d have no issues just spending a lazy day inside on the time you didn’t have plans or work. 

Now? Now you felt like any free moment you spent inside was wasted. You felt bad about it since you were leaving Taco alone, but you promised that you’d take your beloved cat out on more walks if this new behavior keeps up. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a harness and leash for walking, it was purely because finding the right time to take him out never worked in your favor. 

You blew air out your lips as you lay your head down on the table. Maybe it was the fact that you experienced a near-death experience and were recovering from it that made you not want to take time for granted. You cringed at your cliche thinking. 

You didn’t sit at the table long, grabbing your purse and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind before you left the library entirely- it was getting close to closing hours anyways. The last thing you needed was a staff member chasing you out. 

The sky bathed the concrete jungle that was the thinning streets a warm orange as you felt the simmering of heat stick uncomfortably to your skin and under yout clothes. The walk back home felt shorter than it was and when Taco didn’t come running to the sound of the opening and closing door, you felt confusion morph your face. Was he sleeping? Normally, he would be rushing to the door before you managed to slam it shut and lock it while he cried at his once again failure to bolt out the door. 

His escape artistry isn’t as honed as other alley cats and he had a hard time accepting that if it wasn’t obvious by the fits he throws. 

Toeing your shoes off, you stepped inside and as you got closer to your living room you could hear rattling. Rattling? You speed up your steps thinking your nosey cat had gotten into or broken something and was foolishly playing with the pieces, but when you come into the living room with the waning sunlight forcing your to turn on the house lights, you gasp at what you see. 

It was Taco, your beloved cat, yes, but he hadn’t knocked anything down or broken anything that your eye could see. Instead, he was sitting on his cat tower that sat by the large window of your living room you would normally decorate for holidays pawing at the glass as a large black bird sat opposite of him behind the pane. 

The bird, you couldn’t tell what kind from your shock and slight panic-blinded eyes, was sat perfectly still on the outside of the window, knocking its beak lightly against the glass every time Taco mewled or pawed. Its head turned and cocked when it noticed the light flick on and you swore you saw its dark eyes zero in on you before its wings spread out wide spooking Taco off of his tower and onto the floor where he made a less than gracious landing. 

Its wings flapped and then folded back in before tapping two more times on the window. You swallowed the lump in your throat before you slowly treaded up to the window. The bird's beak and eyes followed you, lifting higher to keep its sight on your face the closer you got before you were standing next to Taco’s tower. The black cat himself had seemingly forgotten about the mysterious bird and instead took purchase weaving between your ankles and rubbing his fur over you, soaking in your scent of outside. 

“Are you stuck,” you lightly ask the bird as if he could answer you. Maybe he had flown into your window by mistake- that happens sometimes in tall buildings right? Birds not telling the difference between open space and glass? But, when you looked at his taloned feet there was nothing constriction him and his body was free of anything binding him too, the evidence was in the way his wings would still occasional expand then fold again. It was like he was inviting you to do something. 

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t speak bird. 

You jumped when its beak opened and a sharp, quick nose came out. A muffled caw! catching you by surprise as you nearly tripped over Taco’s still-weaving body. Then, the bird’s beak came to tap at the metal frame where the lock was. 

Did it want inside? Could you really do that? Let some random bird inside your house after it’s been sitting outside your livingroom window for god knows how long just entertaining your cat while you were gone? 

All probability flew out the proverbial window when you, without thinking, unlatched the window and slid it open allowing the big blackbird to fly right in. You screamed, not in terror, but in more shock as it flew inside and the flap of its wings was louder than you were expecting. 

The bird flew a lap around your living room before coming around to you and landing on Taco’s tower beside your shoulder. It was staring at you at eye level now and you could finally identify the bird as a crow. You knew that crows were intelligent birds, but this was clearly a trained bird, not just some random bird who decided to make a nest in your home for no good reason. 

You flinched for the umptheeth time when the crow’s left wing expanded and exposed half of it’s body. You were fully expecting it to folded up again, but it didn’t. Then you noticed it, a small crimson thread tied around it’s leg with a small dark capsule attached to it. 

You relaxed your shoulders and chuckled. 

“What are you, a messenger pigeon?” You wondered if crows could get offended by the way they can remember faces and whatnot. “That was a joke,” you followed yourself just in case. “Is that for me?” You ask hesitantly and when the crow did not move or make any indication of disagreement, you slowly and as carefully as possible unscrewed the bottom of the capsule and a small rolled-up piece of paper slid out of it. The crow softly folded its wing back up once you screwed the bottom piece back on. 

The paper was thin and rolled expertly like a scroll. You walked over to the coffee table and knelt to unfold it to read. 

My apologies for sending word to you this way! It must have been quite the shock to find a crow hanging around your home, however, I have neglected to ask of any other means of connection to you in our few encounters! If appropriate, how many I contact you from here on out? -K.Rengoku

You re-read the well-written note- scroll? -about three times before you broke down into a fit of laughter, kicking your still-healing foot into the table leg and wincing as the dull throb brought you back to your mind. 

You looked over your shoulder at the crow still perched on the tower and used your hand to pat an empty space on your table. 

“Come down here,” you invite and the crow listened well. Fluttering down easily and its talons clacking satisfyingly on your wooden table. You curled your finger, letting the back of your knuckles run over the bird's feathers careful not to accidentally pluck one. “So, you’re Rengoku’s bir-er-crow?” You corrected yourself midword thinking that just calling the crow ‘bird’ would be a bit demeaning. A soft caw was your answer. 

You looked around your coffee table but found nothing close enough to resemble a piece of paper small enough like his to send on the crows return back. Flipping the tiny-scroll over you decided to just use the back side and the nearest pen you had laying around. 

I knew you were into history, but a messenger crow? Now that’s old school. Does he have a name? 

Beside your short messaged reply, you scribbled your number down in the best handwriting you could muster so there was no way the numbers could be confused with another number. You then tried rolling it back up as expecrtly as it was put in- and failed- before you ended up folding the paper into small enough rectangles it fit inside the capsule just as well as when it was rolled up. You then pet the crow one more time before you walked back toyour window and called for it to sit on the sill. 

“You fly back home safely, okay?” The sun had declared the last lights of dusk before the sky covered your section of the world in a dark blanket and the crow’s dark eyes shimmered in earnest before it cawed once more and took off like a friendly goodbye! to its newfound friend. 

You were practically giddy the rest of the night, skipping around and giving Taco an extra treat or two in your good mood. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this feeling in your stomach, butterflies. As you lay in bed you wonder why it was you were feeling those butterflies that took you back to your high school days with flings and crushes and unrealistic romantic daydreams that would make even the most Christmas-y Hallmark movie plot to shame. 

Followed by the intriguing thought of it was all because of the still semi-stranger man named Rengoku who taught history and also happened to kill demons, the feeling of being on some pranked tv show with hidden cameras felt less and less likely the more time passed. But still- it all sounded so unreal when you thought about it all. 

The next morning, after not remembering when you even fell asleep, you checked your phone to see you had an unread text from an unknown number. You smiled at it, not even bothering to shut off the alarm clock that had woken you up as you quickly saved the number into your contacts. 

(Rengoku) His name is Kaname!

-x-x-x-

a/n pt2) DID YOU MISS ME? I know after such a long wait it's a pretty slow boring chapter, but I think the soft pacing was a good ease back into things.

I dunno where the inspo to finish this chapter even came from, but you won't see me complaining. Lemme know what you guys thought, I know it's been a while since I updated much of anything really, so the feedback is critical!!! and ofc im always up for any ideas y'all could have for the future since we all know how touch and go I am with inspiration lol

if you dont tell me anything, you're fired

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Feb 25 - Mar 3, 2023

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA |🔹Submitted by creator

BLADES OF LIGHT & SHADOW

The Best Crew 🎨| Multiple Characters by @artoile (C: @storyofmychoices)

Best Crew in the Whole Damn Realm🎨| Multiple Characters by @garlickk

Nia Ellarious x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @gaiuskamilah

Orc Meets Girl ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| F!Orc!MC & F!Human!MC - @noesapphic

Pancake Mornings 🎨🔹| Mal Volari x F!elf!MC - @/artbyainna (IG) (C: @dutifullynuttywitch)

Until the Stars Fall From the Sky ✒️🔹| Tyril Starfury x F!human!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

BLOODBOUND

Hide Me In Thy Wounds ✒️| Gauis Augustine x F!MC - @gaiuskamilah

Kamilah Sayeed x F!MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈🔹by @vampirkit

CRIMES OF PASSION

An Interlude of Grief ✒️🔹| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

THE CURSED HEART

Leaf Fanart 🎨by @artbyalz

DESIRE AND DECORUM

Threads of Gold ✒️🎨🔹| Ernest Sinclaire x F!MC - art by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd fic by @noesapphic

DISTANT SHORES

Distant Shores: An Alternate Path - Part 3 ✒️🔹| Charlie Smith x M!MC - @korgbelmont

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Surprise Selfie! 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Beckett Harrington x MC - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

ENDLESS SUMMER

Grandchildren: Beatriz ✒️🎨🏳️‍🌈| Estela Montoya x F!MC - @marmolady

HIGH SCHOOL STORY

Count the Red Roses ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| Michael Harrison x NB!MC - @aallotarenunelma

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Cas Harlow x OC Fanart 🎨by @sadxlee

IT LIVES WITHIN

Rowan Burke 🎨| ILW MC by @bunmellos (C: @abelflints)

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Watcha Doing Down There?🎨🏳️‍🌈 | NB!MC, OC - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Wind: Goldenrod (NB!MC)🎨🏳️‍🌈by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Windverse Art 🎨🏳️‍🌈 | NB!MC, OCs by @cammarada (C: @oh-so-youre-a-nerd)

MOTHER OF THE YEAR

Eiko Matsunaga Fanart 🎨by @artbyalz

NIGHTBOUND

Fantastic Beasts ✒️🔹| Nik Rycer x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Open Heart F/AotW List - Week ending March 2, 2024

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Fruit of Her Loins ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys - @littleredroseonthevalley

Midnights Like This (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Leo Rys x F!OC, Liam Rys x F!MC - @queenrileyrose Part 15: Hold Me Tight

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (Pt. 1) ✒️ | Multiple Characters - @fadingreveries

Secrets Behind Their Eyes Ch. 1 & 2✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont - @fancy--marshmallow

Secrets Behind Their Eyes Ch. 3 ✒️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont - @fancy--marshmallow

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 📹 Ch. 04: "the day i died once pt. 1"

notes. please do me a favor and pretend the first slide is actually edited to be posted as a twitter circle tweet 🙏

A familiar pattern of knocks echoed throughout the room. Your head turned to the door in confusion, Baizhu wasn't supposed to be coming in here today. He only came by on weekends.

The door slides open with the rolling sound of the gear to reveal the doctor and what looked like to be Kunikuzushi behind him. The general aura of the mood Baizhu entered the room with was eerily heavy as if someone just died.

"Good afternoon, Y/N." He greets, his tone slightly awkward. You return his greeting and say your hello to Kunikuzushi as well, to which he nods at in acknowledgement.

"Doctor Baizhu, is something the matter? You don't usually come in here on a weekday like this." You ask, nervously fiddling with your fingers. A sense of dread was pushing against your stomach and spread throughout your body.

Baizhu clears his throat, "I'm afraid there's something that needs to be discussed that prompted my visit."

Kunikuzushi has now also turned his attention towards the physician, eyes curious as well. Baizhu takes a deep breath, "I don't wish to scare you but it's inevitable. I fear that your condition has worsened. Ergo, you don't have much left, dear."

Silence fills the room, save for the whirring of the air conditioner. Other than that, you might as well have heard a pin drop. The tension was far too thick for your liking, anyone could cut through it with a knife.

"What?"

That's why Baizhu looked mournful when he came in. He was mourning a dead man walking.

"How much do I have left." Your tone comes out more strained that intended, as if your voice was about to crack.

"11 months. Even then, you're pushing it."

That wasn't so bad, right? You just wouldn't be there to see your album, the one that you've waited so long to start on, in all its glory after the production process. You wouldn't be alive to celebrate it with Xinyan, Aether, and Lumine.

notes. and we're finally at turning point #1 of this au! things will get easier to lay out from here and i hope everyone enjoys what's to come <;3

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (open, reply or send an ask to be added) — @beriiov @alatusorrow @br0oke96 @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 3:

It's My Own Design Ch 16:

Summary:

Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?

The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.

New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.

And if they were wrong?

What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Cliffhanger, sort of.

Oh lord, over 11k words now. I really wanted to split this chapter up, but it would damage the effect I was going for, so, yeah x'D

I also wanted to do art for this chapter but I was so damn tired this month, so I'll probably add art later. Next chapter might be shorter if I can cut it earlier because 2 weeks really isn't enough time for a 10k+ chapter, lol I wanna try to go back to 8k-ish if possible.

Inb4 next chapter comes in at 15k.

Edit: I drew the art! Yaaaay, I finally drew the art for this chapter- So congrats to you tumblr readers, you get the art at the same time as the chapter lol

“Expecto Patronum!” Ominis flicked his wand and then paused. “Anything?”

“Just light mist.” Sebastian shook his head, and the blond boy sighed.

“Expecto Patronum!” The Keeper cast as well, before sighing when they conjured nothing but glowing mist. “If it's any consolation, I'm not having much success either.”

“Seriously, Sebastian. How did you do it?” Ominis folded his arms with an irritated expression.

“I told you, I just think about how lovely both of you look when you're happy.” Sebastian answered with a shrug, while his small glowing otter swam through the air around him.

“Well that's not very helpful for me, now is it.” Ominis grumbled.

The Keeper shook their head with a huff. “All that does is make me horny.”

There was a moment of silence, before Garreth gave them a disgusted look. “For Merlin's sake, can you three go ten minutes without flaunting your relationship in front of us single bastards?”

“Speak for yourself, I think it's quite sweet.” Natty waved off his complaints.

“Aha! So, you aren't single?” Garreth asked with a grin.

“I never said that.” Natty gave Poppy a nervous glance and seemed relieved that the Hufflepuff wasn't paying attention, before shooting him an annoyed glare as she flicked her wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

The funnel of mist that poured from her wand was probably the most corporeal besides Sebastian's, with the almost discernible form of a dog.

“Oh, almost got it!” Poppy clapped for Natty, who had on somewhere between a proud grin and a frustrated grimace.

“Still need more practice, Professor Sharp says that being able to cast a corporeal Patronus counts for a lot when being considered for admission to the Aurors.” Natty sighed, shooting Sebastian a mildly jealous look, which he returned with a cocky smirk.

“Don't worry, Natty, I'm sure you'll succeed. Christmas holidays start next week and there's still half a year before graduation.” The Keeper patted her on the shoulder, when a single freezing drop of water hit them on the arm.

Looking up, the Keeper eyed the dark clouds that had gathered overhead while the group had been practising spells in the courtyard after classes ended for the day. It wasn't cold enough to snow yet, but it was getting cold enough to hurt.

They were about to suggest that everyone head indoors, when the unmistakable sound of thunder rumbled across the moors, followed by a flash of light in the heavens.

Poppy gasped. “Is that!?”

“Lightning!” Sebastian and Garreth exclaimed at the same time, before glaring at each other.

“Come on!” Natty lifted her wand to create a barrier against the falling rain as she began to run towards the forest.

Exchanging excited grins, the rest took off after her, while Amit scrambled to shove his book into his bag. “Wait for me!”

The rain fell heavier and heavier with every moment, until it was pelting against the group's magical umbrellas as they filed into the forest. Each quickly dug up a box containing their crystal phial, before rushing back to the castle. The rain now a deluge that made it difficult to see or hear each other through the darkness, thunder shaking the earth with every rumble.

The group stood in the castle entryway for a few moments, catching their breath and lowering the hood of their school robes.

“The classroom we use on Saturdays should be empty by now, right?” Amit asked.

“Yes, hopefully. We don't know how long the storm will last, so the sooner we start, the better.” Natty nodded. “Let's go.”

The group made to follow her, when Poppy looked about, realising that there were only six of them present. “Hang on, where's-”

The doors opened again for the Keeper to slip in through them and lower their hood.

“Oh, there you are!” Poppy gave a relieved sigh.

“Sorry, tripped on a root.” The Keeper explained as they rejoined the group.

“Great, everyone's here, now can we get a move on already?” Garreth complained, getting several glares in response. “What? We're on the clock, I'm just saying it like it is.”

Natty rolled her eyes but didn't disagree. “Alright, let's go.”

Fortunately, the lightning storm continued to rage outside and didn't seem like it would let up any time soon. The group of teens were soon sitting in the middle of an empty classroom, removing their crystal phials from their dirt crusted boxes and unstopping them.

“Of course it would be red.” Garreth sighed, holding up the phial. “All I can think of is that this used to be a baby moth.”

“Thanks for reminding us.” Amit side eyed him.

“Alright, everyone, you'll need to do the daily chant one more time.” Natty instructed and the rest of the group, sans the Keeper, drew their wands to point at their hearts.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” The five chanted and their wands glowed with a soft gold light that also shimmered around the crystal phials a moment later.

“Well done!” Natty clapped. “That glow means everyone has been doing the chant correctly. Now you just need to drink the potion. You'll have a vision of your animal form and then the double heartbeat will become painful, but don't panic. If you do, you might lose yourself to the animal.”

Nodding with varying degrees of nervousness, the five drank their potions, Garreth holding his nose as he did.

“Well, that wasn't so bad.” Ominis smiled as he passed Sebastian his empty phial and the brunet set both down on a nearby table.

“Speak for yourself.” Garreth grumbled as he set aside his phial as well.

“Oh!” Poppy suddenly exclaimed, while Sebastian pressed a hand to his forehead and Garreth shook his head.

A moment later, each of the five doubled over with a groan of pain while the golden glow shone from their skin.

“Alright everyone, take a deep breath. Don't fight whatever your body wants to do, listen to the second heartbeat and focus on the animal form you see.” Natty instructed and the Keeper could see everyone struggling to follow those instructions.

The Keeper desperately wanted to comfort Ominis and Sebastian, but didn't want to distract them either. So, they were forced to watch as the two boys collapsed to the floor with expressions of pain, sweat beading on their brows, and fists tight around their robes.

Several minutes passed this way, until Poppy cried out, her body contorting as a swirl of light shone around her and then, in her place was a brown coated deer with pale spots speckled across her back.

Natty immediately ran to her side, brushing her hand over Poppy's pelt and whispering comforting words to the deer.

A moment later, Sebastian grunted and the same happened, his form changing in a swirl of light, into a large dog with long brown fur and patches of white across his snout and belly. The Keeper finally allowed themselves to go to his side as well, and soft whimpers of pain came from the dog as they cradled him close.

The next to be enveloped in light, was Amit, who seemingly disappeared. Until the Keeper realised that there was a palm sized tortoise shell where he'd lain, its spiky black shell patterned with geometric star-like lines of orange. A few seconds passed, before a tiny orange snout poked out from under the shell.

The Keeper was relieved when Ominis finally finished his transformation too, becoming a rather large and beautiful white feline that was just slightly smaller than Sebastian, and had tufts of fur extending from the tip of his ears.

Dragging himself to his feet, Sebastian plodded over unsteadily to lie down beside Ominis, dwarfing the cat with his form. The Keeper too followed to his side, and with one hand, stroked the large cat's soft cream fur as he panted for breath, while with the other, ran their fingers through Sebastian's thick warm fur to soothe him as well.

Finally, the last to transform was Garreth, and he made a rather amusing squeak, before turning into a raccoon with reddish fur, lying on his back, puffy tail twitching as his chest heaved.

“Webale Katonda...” Natty murmured, smiling with relief. “It looks like everyone managed without complications.”

“Thanks to your guidance.” The Keeper nodded to her in gratitude, chuckling when they felt Ominis purring quietly against their palm. Finding the way Sebastian shoved his snout under Ominis’ chin to be quite adorable, though the big cat seemed to find it annoying and batted at Sebastian with a paw.

“When you feel able, I'd like everyone to try turning back into human form, just to make sure that everything went right.” Natty stroked Poppy's neck soothingly as she spoke.

With a huff, Sebastian pried himself from Ominis’ side to sit up and closed his warm brown eyes in focus. Amit's snout disappeared under his shell once more and Ominis opened his eyes, which seemed to still be unseeing milky pink orbs. A pity, the Keeper had hoped that Ominis might be able to see in his animal form.

A few minutes later, the five kids were kids once more and Garreth groaned, running a hand through his ginger mane. “Bloody hell, everything hurts, even my hair...”

“Quit whining.” Sebastian grumbled, holding his head between his hands while Ominis leaned tiredly against the Keeper.

“I think I need to lie down.” Ominis murmured.

“Best idea I've heard all day.” Amit gave a tired laugh.

“Help me back to the common room?” Ominis asked the Keeper.

“Of course.” They nodded and stood slowly, helping Ominis to his feet, before offering Sebastian a hand as well.

“What's the rush?” Garreth asked, raising an eyebrow at the three from the floor.

“Unlike you, I'd rather pass out in a bed.” Ominis rolled his eyes. “Bit more comfortable at the moment.”

Poppy gave a breathless laugh against Natty's side, and the Gryffindor nodded. “Yes, we should probably get some rest this weekend, we can have our Saturday meetings after school resumes.”

With a nod, the Keeper left with both boys leaning against them, supporting them out into the corridor, which was empty since most of the school was likely at dinner.

“Shall we use the Undercroft to do yours?” Ominis asked quietly, startling the Keeper and he gave them a wry smile. “I know you went to get your phial too.”

“I can help you to the common room first.” The Keeper shook their head, if he was aching enough to want a proper bed, that took priority.

Ominis rolled his eyes. “I only said that so we could leave quickly. If you think we're letting you attempt the transformation unsupervised, you're barmy.”

“Can't wait to see what you end up as.” Sebastian gave a tired chuckle.

“You guys...” The Keeper felt their heart warm with affection, really hoping that they would be something that could cuddle with their partners. “Alright.”

The trip to the Undercroft took a while but the reassuring sound of thunder followed them all the way to the secret entrance. Slipping inside, the Keeper left the boys sitting together on the bench while they set down their satchel, and sat on the floor with their crystal phial.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” The Keeper chanted, with their wand placed to their heart, waiting for the phial to glow before taking a deep breath and bringing it to their lips.

The potion's taste was... weird. Not much of a taste actually, it just felt warm, maybe a tad salty. Like piss- which was a nauseating thought to have while drinking it, and the Keeper was happy to set the empty phial aside.

The strength of the second heartbeat caught them off guard and their vision hazed over for a second before clearing to the sight of... snow?

A white snowy sea, speckled with the occasional tree, as far as the eye could see.

The Keeper was puzzled, weren't they supposed to see their Animagus form? A slightest hint of movement caught their attention and there, in what they'd thought was a mound of snow in the shadow of a tree, a pair of golden eyes peered out at them.

The mound rose up on four legs and they realised that the shadows were grey fur, it growled low and threatening. Then the ferocious beast was charging at them, and before the Keeper could react, it dove into their chest, vanishing as though absorbed into their body.

Then the pain began.

It felt like hair-thin needles were being driven into their skin, four loud pulses throbbing between their ears, heat burning through their chest and searing through their body.

Golden light burned behind their eyelids, and they felt restrained, like they were wrapped in a thick blanket, tight around them, constraining every movement such that even breath could not be drawn.

Free.

They needed to be free. A scream built in their throat, and they fought their restraints but as they tore through their bindings and their mouth opened, a howl emerged instead.

Slumping forward, the Keeper collapsed to the floor, chest heaving for breath. They felt something touch their head and tensed, surprised when a growl rumbled in their chest.

“It's okay, you're safe...”

Sebastian. The Keeper tried to speak, but instead a soft whine emerged from their... snout. Right. Animagus form. Fucking hell, Garreth was right, everything hurt.

“A wolf, somehow I'm not particularly surprised.” Sebastian chuckled.

A wolf, a dog and a cat. The Keeper huffed in amusement, enjoying Sebastian's gentle caresses. Well, at least they'd gotten their wish to be an animal that would easily cuddle with their boyfriends.

A flash of light came from beside them and then there was a pretty white cat rubbing up against the Keeper's side. Huh, they'd thought Ominis rather large for a cat, he seemed smaller now.

A moment later, Sebastian joined him in dog form, and the Keeper was amused to realise that this was simply because they were quite a bit larger than both Ominis and Sebastian. Stretching out so that the two boys could lie against their belly, the Keeper gave a tired sigh and lowered their snout to the floor to rest.

Rumbling purrs came from Ominis’ chest as he started licking the fur on the Keeper's head, while Sebastian draped a front leg over Ominis’ back, nuzzled his muzzle against the cat's pale neck and promptly began snoring.

It was a curious feeling, being an animal, the light of the candelabras was somehow brighter, Ominis’ purrs and Sebastian's snores felt louder, the sound of rainfall audible even from the underground chamber. The smell of melting wax and burning wick, mingled with wood and oil, lit up like paths in their vision.

Most wonderful however, were the scents of Ominis and Sebastian. Somehow, the Keeper knew them. Knew what they meant.

Mates.

Family.

Pack.

Despite the ache still throbbing through the Keeper's body, the comfortable warmth that they felt with their partners by their side was pleasant enough that they considered it rather worth all the effort.

Closing their eyes, the Keeper allowed the rhythm of Ominis’ grooming to soothe the pain, and their tired consciousness soon faded into darkness.

“-which made it difficult to pinpoint since caracals have those tufts of fur on their ears that make them look like lynx. And while there weren't any records of albino caracals, all records of albino lynx were spotted, so I'm fairly certain of my conclusion.” Sebastian finished with a confident nod.

“So, Poppy's a Fallow Deer, Amit is an Indian Star Tortoise, Garreth is a common Raccoon.” The Keeper recited. “You're a Border Collie, I'm an Eurasian Wolf and Ominis is an albino Caracal.”

“Yup.” Sebastian beamed, clearly pleased that they'd listened attentively throughout his lecture. “Amit's is actually pretty rare, endangered species apparently. Albino caracals are basically unheard of too.”

“Of course, our Ominis is one of a kind.” The Keeper smirked proudly. “Though he probably shouldn't go about in Animagus form too often, since he stands out.”

“Bit of a bummer, that. He's only ever wanted to be like everyone else.” Sebastian murmured. “For some unfathomable reason.”

“Not so unfathomable I'd say, since the loveliest rose in the bush gets picked first. I mean, the biggest danger to him, particularly in Animagus form, would be poachers who would sell his pretty arse for a pretty penny.” The Keeper pointed out.

“Fair enough.” Sebastian conceded, before he snickered. “Something Garreth doesn't have to worry about, seeing as he's just a common raccoon.”

The Keeper rolled their eyes, they still didn't know where the odd rivalry between the two boys came from, but at least it was entertaining. “I think it's interesting how compatible Poppy and Natty's forms are.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “On the surface maybe, but fallow deer and gazelle come from very different environments, and one's got antlers while the other has horns.”

“I mean that they can prance together through the woods.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.

“I suppose they could, but gazelles are actually quite a bit faster than deer. So, Natty might have to wait for Poppy.” Sebastian shrugged.

“Knowing her, I doubt she'll mind.” The Keeper gave him a wry smile, before jabbing a thumb at the large double door that they'd been leaning against this whole time, patiently waiting for Sebastian to finish his verbal vomit. “It's ready, want to give it a try?”

“Sure.” Sebastian grinned and they moved aside.

He reached out to grasp the door's handle and it glowed for a moment, before there was an audible click, and he easily pushed the door open, before rubbing at his thumb absently.

“Excellent, it works despite the features I added.” The Keeper grinned, rather pleased that they'd managed to create a door for their bedroom that would only unlock in response to their Ancient Magic or Ominis’ parseltongue or Sebastian's blood. “I'm still impressed you managed to figure out how the blood verification ritual works with half the page covered in smudged ink.”

“Why thank you! It certainly wasn't easy.” Sebastian beamed proudly. “Though I do wonder why a locking charm this useful isn't more commonly used.”

“Probably the same reason people don't use dark magic, blood is creepy or something equally absurd.” The Keeper rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, probably. Now all I need to be concerned with is making sure no-one draws my blood and uses it for a key.” Sebastian gave a cocky grin. “Easy.”

“Even if that happens, I added a stipulation to the door so it rejects cold or stale blood.” The Keeper shrugged. “Blood degrades after it's been removed from the body, and the only way to preserve it would be to keep it cold, so that should be enough to counteract that.”

“You're supposed to agree that my duelling skill is unparalleled.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at them.

“Well, can't really say that when I've put you on your arse.” The Keeper chuckled, giving him a teasing smile.

“Yeah, but I've spanked yours. So, where does that leave us?” Sebastian grinned.

“Doesn't count, because I liked it.” The Keeper' smile became amused.

Despite his ears going adorably red, Sebastian gave them a smirk, stepping closer and running his thumb over their bottom lip, murmuring softly. “Did you now?”

Flicking their tongue out, the Keeper caught the edge of his thumb with it and took a moment to revel in the heat that sparked in his eyes, before raising their wand and casting a tempus.

“Alright, now that we've confirmed that the door works, we can set up the hidden door to the basement with the same security design when we get back.” The Keeper patted him on the cheek. “We should get going, or we'll be late to meet Borgok.”

With that, they slipped out from between him and the wall to make for the stairs, and Sebastian let his forehead fall forward to rest against the stone with a sigh.

“Come on, Sebastian.” The Keeper called.

“Coming...” He replied with another sigh, grumbling under his breath. “Sure wish I actually were.”

Laughing internally at Sebastian, as he followed the Keeper down the stairs, they poked their head into the kitchen, where Ominis was lying, curled up and cuddled with the little dragon on its bed in his Animagus form.

Smiling at the adorable sight, the Keeper called out. “Ominis, we're heading out.”

The white caracal's ears twitched, and Ominis waved his tail at them in acknowledgement, so the Keeper chuckled and withdrew to join Sebastian in the entryway.

The two brought out their brooms and were soon off to Knockturn Alley.

The pub was lively as always, and since Borgok hadn't arrived yet, the Keeper brought Sebastian with them to the bar counter.

“Evening, Alasdair.” The Keeper greeted as they seated themselves, Sebastian following suit.

“Salamander.” The bartender smiled at them from behind his glasses. “What can I get you this fine evening?”

“Two of my usual and the house special.” The Keeper answered and when his eyes flickered towards Sebastian, they added. “This is Sebastian, he's assisting me with my work.”

“Is that so...” Alasdair eyed the brunet critically. “You sure about that, kid?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the man, and he gave a deep chuckle as he mixed their drinks.

“You've got bollocks lad, but I know a daredevil when I see one.” The bartender flashed him a knowing smile. “You like the heat of danger, but this line of work ain't a game. You would be ill suited to Mercenary work.”

“It's fine.” The Keeper waved off his concerns before Sebastian could retort. “He's not here to join, he's simply accompanying me to ensure that I do not perish in battle.”

The Keeper found Alasdair’s response rather interesting, seeing as they had been accepted by him on sight. Though they supposed that it should have been plain that it was their reputation and the guildmaster's intuition that made their admission so smooth.

“If you say so.” Alasdair shrugged. “Owl asked me to inform you that he cannot make it tonight, but he's made some headway and identified several potential leads.”

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded as the bartender set two glasses of chocolate coffee ice before them.

They had to admit that they missed the convenience of Owl's pocket mirror, which they'd returned last week, since they no longer needed to coordinate so precisely. They really wanted to get a set for communication with Sebastian and Ominis, such artefacts were incredibly useful, but also apparently quite rare.

At this moment, the doors opened to admit Borgok and he lumbered over to the bar. “Evening Salamander, Sebastian.”

“Borgok.” The Keeper nodded as the goblin took a seat as well. “I assume you have my items?”

The goblin nodded, offering them the expanded pouch they'd given him before. “As agreed.”

When the Keeper took the pouch from him, a blue flame appeared over their hand. Despite this, they took a peek to verify that the pouch did indeed contain their promised artefacts, while Borgok greeted Alasdair and ordered a drink, before placing it in their satchel.

“How much coin would you like for them?” The Keeper asked and to their surprise, Borgok glanced at Alasdair, before shaking his head.

“In light of the unexpected difficulty and the surplus of silver you provided, I will consider this round of wares paid for.” The goblin smiled, accepting his drink from the bartender and raised his mug. “To our continued camaraderie.”

“To our mutual cause.” The Keeper raised their glass in answer as well, before taking out their contract with Borgok, handing it to Alasdair to be discharged with a stamp.

“Sebastian, I would like to discuss your apprenticeship further, if you are willing.” Borgok asked once the contracts were settled.

The still pouting brunet glanced at the Keeper, and they nodded. “I have things to discuss with Alasdair anyway.”

“Alright.” Taking his glass with a sigh, Sebastian followed the goblin to one of the tables, a distance away, to speak.

“Ah yes, I have something for you.” Alasdair smiled and retrieved a wooden box from behind the counter, presenting it to the Keeper. “As you have completed your first bounty, you are now an official member of the Phantoms. Congratulations.”

Having an inkling of its contents, the Keeper opened the wooden box and found a silver venetian half mask within it. It was simple and elegant, with a pattern of a salamander along one side and the flame emblem of the Phantoms along the other, while intricate swirls were etched into the edges of the silver.

“Figured you wouldn't want anything too fanciful.” Alasdair chuckled. “If you should wish to conceal your identity and wear only your status as a Phantom Mercenary, you need only don this mask.”

Giving him a grateful nod, the Keeper closed the box and placed it in their satchel with a simple. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, you are an investment, after all.” The bartender flashed them a small smirk. “Which reminds me, Vesper should be stopping by soon.”

“Excellent, I'll give him his payment then. Speaking of which, are there any new jobs I can take?” They asked after a moment. “The Christmas holidays have started, so my schedule is more flexible.”

“Certainly.” The bartender nodded. “Any preferences?”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, they could use more test subjects, now that they had the collars and cauldron to experiment with. Not to mention, they wanted to reassure Sebastian that they could handle Mercenary work on their own, that Gnarlak’s difficulty was really an exception, so a relatively easy job would be good.

“Any jobs with a human target but no obligation to bag a kill?” The Keeper asked, taking a sip of their drink.

“That's specific.” Alasdair cocked an eyebrow at them, but seemed to consider the request for a few moments, before bending down to rifle through something behind the counter.

“This might match what you're looking for.” The bartender extracted a contract to hand to the Keeper. “The target's wife put out a request to retrieve their coin from him. Apparently, he absconded with the family wealth and left her with debt and two children to raise.”

Accepting it, they examined the contract which outlined a request to steal all of worth from a man named Frederick Taylor, with a promised reward of twenty percent of the stolen valuables. It included a family photograph of the man, what was likely his wife and two children... and a familiar looking house elf.

Recognising the elf, the Keeper's eyes widened, and rage coiled within them. Tobbs. The friend of Deek, whom they'd found deceased in the spider infested caves, trapped within those tunnels with barely any supplies, forced to collect fucking leeches for his abusive master.

“I'll take it.” It took all their willpower to speak evenly as they returned the contract to the bartender.

“Alright, if you're free tomorrow, I can ask the contractor to drop by for the signing.” Alasdair nodded.

“Sure, keep me posted.” The Keeper nodded, taking a drink from their neglected glass to cool their anger. At least they didn't need to wait, without classes on Monday, they could afford to be out late into the night.

They'd sworn, a little over two years ago, in that dank cave, standing over the small body, that they would make Tobbs’ owner pay for his cruelty if they ever got the opportunity. Well, it seemed like said opportunity had arrived, and what a perfect candidate for a new test subject.

“If that is all, we'll speak again tomorrow.” The Keeper nodded to Alasdair and the bartender waved them off as they made their way over to the table where Sebastian was speaking with Borgok.

“That was fast.” Sebastian commented as they took a seat beside him.

“Mhm, got a new job too, I'll fill you in later.” The Keeper patted him on the shoulder. “How's your chat going?”

“We've agreed to lessons on Sunday afternoons, starting next week.” Sebastian explained simply and the Keeper nodded, about the same time as their lessons with Rackham then. An excellent time to select, on his part.

“Oh.” The Keeper spotted Vesper entering the pub. “I'll be right back.”

Slipping out of their seat once more, the Keeper left their drink in Sebastian's care and approached the man as he seated himself at the bar.

“Vesper.” The Keeper greeted, drawing the wand they'd retrieved from Gnarlak. “Is this yours?”

Vesper's eyes went wide, before a wry grin stretched across his scraggy beard as he reached a hand out for it. “Well, I'll be damned. You actually completed that bounty?”

Nodding, the Keeper handed him the wand. “Thanks to your warning about a large creature, I was better prepared.”

“What'd it end up being?” The man asked curiously as he gazed lovingly down at his wand.

“A dragon.” They answered dryly.

“A dragon, eh.” He chuckled. “That's a pretty big fish. Surprised you got out alive, how'd you get Gnarlak with a dragon to dodge?”

“By killing it first.” The Keeper shrugged.

The old hunter gave an incredulous snort, shaking his head. “Sure you did.”

In response, the Keeper wordlessly removed, from their satchel, the dragon scale they'd ripped out, and flashed it at the man.

His jaw went slack at the large ventral scale that could only have come from a dragon's belly, for it was perfectly intact and still bore the roots that would have been embedded in the dragon's flesh. There were no further words or proof needed, since dislodging the scale through impact would have caused some damage to it or its roots, and a naturally shed scale would be old and dry.

Thus, the only possible way to obtain a dragon's magically resistant scales in such pristine condition, would be to rip it out, and the only way most people might imagine getting close enough to pry it free with tools would require it be dead. Not to mention, its vibrant and rich magical energy marked it impossibly fresh.

“Well, I'll be damned, indeed.” Vesper laughed and guffawed. “A kid like you took down a dragon and that crafty goblin? Merlin, I wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible.”

“A force to be reckoned with indeed.” Alasdair chuckled and the Keeper belatedly remembered that the bartender was also within earshot, though they supposed it was of little consequence.

“Well, I now know who to ask if I need something done. It was a pleasure doing business with you.” Vesper holstered his wand and offered his prosthetic hand for a shake, which they took after a moment, and he tipped his hat at them. “Good luck, kid.”

“Enjoy your retirement.” The Keeper replied politely, accepting the conclusion of their conversation and made to return to Sebastian's side.

As they did, they saw Borgok standing and they exchanged parting nods, before sitting down beside Sebastian, and he related to them the details of his arrangements with the goblin. That he would work with Borgok at Gringotts for a few hours every weekend and that the goblin would see to it that Sebastian got the opportunity to meet the head of the Curse Breakers’ division, and that Borgok would vouch for him.

Their businesses settled, the two finished their drinks and left for home, the Keeper's heart filled with anticipation and an eagerness to test their new toys. There was much work to begin tomorrow and though they would need their energy for those tasks, they had a feeling that sleep would not come easy.

“Ominis, there's a letter for... you.” The Keeper called as they strolled into the master bedroom at Dìon the next day, after their usual Sunday afternoon lesson with Rackham.

Amused to see their partners lounging on the large king-sized bed, Sebastian reading a tome, lying on his front, while Ominis dozed, curled up with his head nestled comfortably in the small of the brunet's back. Cute.

Lifting his head, Ominis yawned before asking. “Who from?”

“I'm not sure.” The Keeper hummed. “But this has to be the most posh envelope I've seen in my life.”

The emerald green paper was thick with embossed letters and silver decorative swirls along the boarders of the silky smooth surface, and was that fucking perfume they were smelling!? Bloody hell, this one letter felt like it was worth a galleon on its own.

“Give it here then.” Ominis sat up and raised his hand as the Keeper climbed onto the bed, before placing it in his hand obediently.

The moment it touched his fingers however, Ominis stiffened, and the letter almost tumbled to the floor.

The Keeper frowned. “Ominis?”

Hearing the concern in their voice, Sebastian lifted his head as well, turning around and sitting up. The moment he saw the letter, he went. “Oh.”

Giving Sebastian a puzzled glance, the Keeper watched warily as Ominis took a deep breath and opened the envelope, withdrawing the letter with a discomforted expression. Raising his wand to charm the paper, he ran his fingers across the parchment and his lips pursed with disappointment.

“What's it say?” Sebastian asked and Ominis wordlessly held up the parchment for him to take.

Looking at the paper over Sebastian's shoulder, the Keeper's narrowed, an invitation to a yule gala in two days’ time from-

“Huh, it's been ages since your parents last tried to get you to attend.” Sebastian commented and Ominis flinched.

“Indeed, one would think they'd given up by now.” The blond's voice was strained with forced indifference and the Keeper smacked Sebastian on the head.

“I take it that you're turning the invitation down?” The Keeper asked hesitantly, wary of causing more hurt.

“I'll do what I've done for the last five years. Nothing.” Ominis huffed, folding his arms and murmuring quietly. “They can't even bother to invite me in person, why should I entertain such paltry and empty gestures?”

“As you should. You owe those awful people nothing and you never liked those parties anyway.” Sebastian agreed and Ominis wore a conflicted smile in response.

“If you like, we can hold our own Yule gala right here.” The Keeper suggested, giving Ominis a kiss on the cheek, whispering softly into his ear and making him shiver. “My prince.”

“I say, that's a fantastic idea.” Sebastian grinned and bounced off the bed, taking Ominis’ hand and pulling him to his feet, a bemused smile forming on the blond's face.

“Do you even know how to dance, Sebastian?” Ominis asked in a dubious tone.

“Nope, not a clue!” Sebastian announced confidently. “But I've seen dancing before, shouldn't be too hard to copy.”

Hearing this, the Keeper scrambled to get off the bed quickly as well, just as Sebastian began to... dance, to soundless music, pulling a mildly alarmed Ominis along with him as he swayed haphazardly across the bedroom floor.

“And I believe here's where we do a spinny thing.” Sebastian attempted to do a spin and dip, which failed spectacularly, and the Keeper quickly caught Ominis as he lost his balance.

“Oh, you absolute buffoon.” Ominis complained as he straightened with the Keeper's help and adjusted his rumpled pyjamas primly, drawing his wand and marching over to Sebastian's side. “This is how you dance.”

Manhandling Sebastian into the proper position and setting his boyfriend's hand on his shoulder, Ominis placed the hand gripping his glowing wand on Sebastian's hip and with the other, took Sebastian's hand in his. The whole process of which seemed to startle Sebastian somewhat, and he blinked as Ominis began leading him in the most recognisable part of a waltz.

“The box step is the easiest, we just slide one foot to the side and then bring your other foot to match it in a three-beat rhythm.” Ominis explained as he tugged Sebastian to the side. “And you want to keep your feet on the floor as we go, so you don’t step on my toes.”

“One two three, one two three...” Ominis slid his foot forward as he counted, nudging Sebastian's backwards and the brunet followed his lead.

The Keeper watched in amusement, as the two boys danced in a square circle in the middle of the bedroom for several minutes, till Sebastian seemed to get the hang of it, and a rather dopey grin appeared on his face as he danced with Ominis. At least until he made the mistake of looking up, catching the Keeper's wide amused smirk, and Sebastian promptly lost his rhythm, his cheeks going red.

Covering it up with a cough, Sebastian released Ominis’ hand and declared. “I think I've got it now, your turn!”

With that, he dragged the Keeper over and shoved them at Ominis, who took the change in partners in stride, and the Keeper happily allowed him to manoeuvre them into the same position. Having seen Ominis lead Sebastian, the Keeper had an idea of what to expect and it wasn't too long before they were following him smoothly.

When the Keeper tossed Sebastian a small cocky grin, he huffed. “Not fair, you had an advantage.”

“Fair enough. Then, in that case.” The Keeper conceded and tapped Ominis on the shoulder to signal a stop. They then guided him back to the bed, where he reclined, while the Keeper went over to Sebastian and gave him a low bow. “May I have this dance?”

Sebastian stared at them in faint disbelief and with a smirk, the Keeper took his hand and pulled him close. Discerning the Keeper's intentions, Ominis smiled and began tapping a beat on his thigh as they led Sebastian to the rhythm.

“Show off.” Sebastian grumbled, his face still slightly pink.

“Pot, kettle, darling.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.

As they swayed slowly, the first dusting of fine snow began to fall on the other side of the glass balcony doors. The cold winter air went unnoticed by the happy throuple, dancing in the warm home they'd made for themselves, as the afternoon turned to evening, and the time came for the Keeper to meet their new contractor at the pub.

The lady from the photograph was visibly nervous from the moment she entered the pub, jumping at every raised voice, as she approached the bar to speak with Alasdair. The Keeper was mildly amused by how conspicuous she seemed in this environment, they wouldn't even need to know her face to identify her as a contracting guest.

Her expression was, as expected, quite surprised when Alasdair directed her towards the Keeper's table, where they sat with their usual chocolate drink, and in a few moments, she was hesitantly approaching them.

“Are you the Salamander?” The lady asked and the Keeper nodded.

“I am, and you're here to discuss the contract, yes? Please, take a seat.” The Keeper gave her a small smile, hoping to put her at ease and it seemed to work. “Tell me a little more about the job you'd like me to do.”

With a grateful nod, the lady sat across from them and gave them a strained smile. “Well, my husband, Frederick Taylor and I used to run a potions shop together. He'd brew and I'd sell the potions. He was never the most even-tempered man, but it got worse when our business started failing.”

“What happened?” The Keeper asked, though they could guess the answer, they wanted confirmation.

“The elf he inherited from his parents went missing and we couldn't afford to buy a new one to harvest supplies for our potions.” She shook her head. “We tried for two years but couldn't keep the shop open and I wanted to sell the family heirlooms to pay off our debts, so we could start afresh, he was furious at the suggestion and then he disappeared with them and what coin we had left.”

Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “Then while searching for any remaining coin, I found letters between him and a mistress, going back five years. Last I heard, my friend saw him in Edinburgh with her, a younger woman.”

The last words were understandably bitter, and the Keeper mentally noted down the town, nodding as they spoke. “You said in the contract that payment would be a portion of what I steal from him.”

The lady nodded anxiously. “Yes, I know that you could always keep it all instead of splitting the proceeds, but I can assist you with stealing it, whatever you need and-”

“Madam.” The Keeper interrupted with a smirk. “Before that, I'd like to ask if you would mind him... disappearing for good, after I've retrieved your coin.”

“Disa- oh.” Her eyes widened. “What do you-”

“That's my business. Though I can tell you that he will be in a lot of suffering until the moment he dies. Would you consider that fair, in light of the injustices he's committed against you and your children?” The Keeper asked evenly.

It was tedious, but they had promised Ominis that they wouldn’t harm the innocent, and he'd made it clear that he considered their own metric, for determining innocence versus guilt, to be... not up to his standard. So, who better to judge if the punishment fit the crime than the woman who had been the target's victim and wife?

The one who knew all his flaws and sins, and had been hurt by them.

There was a long moment of silence, a thoughtful frown on her face as she deliberated, before she met their eyes with a resolute gaze. “Do whatever you want with him.”

Well, that was that, the Keeper nodded, before asking after a moment's thought. “How was his relationship with your children?”

“Distant, for the most part, but he never raised a hand against our sons at least.” Her tone made it plain that he'd held no such honour with her.

“Do you think he would go to their aid if he saw one of them in what appears to be danger?” They asked and her expression was wary as she answered.

“Yes, I think he would...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“Then if you don't mind, I'd like several strands of hair from one of your children.” The Keeper requested and the lady's eyes widened with understanding.

“Oh! Yes, I can do that!” She nodded with a relieved smile. “Do you want me to take the polyj-”

“It's quite alright, I have an assistant who can handle that role.” The Keeper waved her off casually, they didn't need a civilian to worry about in the middle of a mission. “The man himself and my share of the proceeds from selling the heirlooms will be acceptable as payment.”

“So, you'll take the job? Thank you!” The lady clasped her hands together with a smile.

“No thanks needed, I have my own interests that I'm serving.” The Keeper shook their head and strangely enough, her blue eyes became sad, and they had a feeling that there was more she wanted to say but was uncertain if it would be welcome, so they asked. “What is it?”

“I just- my oldest looks around your age.” She murmured tentatively.

Okay, weird thing to comment, the Keeper raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged. “Pick the younger kid then. People naturally panic more, the younger a child is when in danger.”

Her expression looked somewhere between alarmed and shocked, for reasons they couldn't be arsed to discern, and they instead asked. “If that is all, shall we sign then?”

“I- I suppose-” She stammered.

With that, the Keeper stood with their drink and, leaving the oddly stunned lady to scramble after them, the Keeper made their way to the bar. Somehow, interacting with her was rather tiring, and it would probably be for her benefit if she left the pub sooner than later anyway.

The signing took a tad longer than usual, since Alasdair gave the lady twice the amount of painkiller, making her writing a little slow and wobbly, but it wasn't too long before the Keeper alone at the bar.

“The target is a civilian, if I'm not mistaken?” The bartender asked casually and at their nod, asked. “Any leads?”

The Keeper hesitated a moment, but for now, while they were learning the ropes, it might be good to seek guidance from the guildmaster, so they answered. “Edinburgh.”

A good thing too, because Alasdair hummed thoughtfully. “That so?”

“That's Rogue territory.” Pausing to pull out a paper from behind the counter, the bartender scribbled something on it, before handing them the sheet with an address and directions on it. “Drop by the guild and give the guildmaster a heads-up about your plans, wouldn't want to give them problems.”

“Noted.” The Keeper nodded, tucking away the paper. “Should I wear my mask?”

Alasdair shrugged. “Up to you, but it would make things a tad easier, I should say. Guildmaster Gilfred worked as my second for a while, moved back up north a couple years ago to take over the family business.”

“Anything else I should know?” The Keeper asked before finishing their drink.

“...well...” The bartender trailed off before shaking his head with a wry smile. “You know what, you'll find out.”

They cocked an eyebrow at Alasdair as they slid the empty glass over to him and stood to leave. Well, they supposed they would. It'd be interesting to see how other guilds looked anyway.

Stepping inside their study on the second basement floor, the Keeper opened their satchel and retrieved the pouch that Borgok had given them. The room was still rather sparse, containing only a desk, a single chair and a cabinet that they'd moved their jars of Pain and Fear into.

Both the cabinets’ doors, and that of their study, required Ancient Magic to unlock, as did the doors to the Repository Chamber.

Though, hopefully such measures wouldn't be necessary to begin with, since the door to the basement facility not only had the same security as their bedroom door but was also hidden in the stone wall behind the portrait of Charles Rookwood. So that the magic of the artwork would mask that of the secret door, should someone cast a Revelio charm.

There were still more doors for cells and unused rooms, not to mention, much furnishing to add, but the Keeper was quite happy that they could already live and work comfortably in the castle.

Opening the pouch, the Keeper took its contents out one at a time, to examine and then lay them on the desk, starting with the collars. The craftsmanship of the three collars was quite something, even though they were smaller than the one that they'd retrieved from the dragon's neck, which sat now in their cabinet.

They found, on the inside of the collars, a thin needle. For injecting energies? The needle seemed like it could be retracted too, from its telescopic design. Well, they'd find out how it worked, and the Keeper set the collars aside, looking forward to testing them when they had time.

The highly anticipated armlet was next, and the Keeper eagerly tried it on. The narrow band sat comfortably around their bicep and was surprisingly light, despite how solid it looked and felt. They would probably wear it under their clothing so that it couldn't be seen, and they were pleased to find that its inside was lined with some soft material, so that it didn't shift or chafe.

Excited to test it out, the Keeper removed the armlet, pulled out their jar of C-Pain, and drew the energy from its container with their wand, before lowering it to the band. Fascinated when the lava-like substance melted into the metal, turning the silver to red and black, the rolling magma crawling along the swirls and patterns that were carved into the armlet.

Fastening it to their upper arm once again, the Keeper felt immediately the difference, the band was now warm and they could feel the energy waiting, resting in it. It felt like standing in fog, moisture licking at one's skin, and the Keeper wondered for a moment how they might intake the energy. If it felt like fog, then perhaps...

Closing their eyes, they focused on the cloud of warmth and thought of how it felt to breathe when standing in fog, the feeling of pulling the air, heavy with moisture, into their lungs. As they did so, they felt the energy flow into their body like warm mist, it was so smooth, so fluid, so powerful, so delicious, so easy to take just a little more-

We'll be holding you to your word.

The Keeper's eyes snapped open, and they hurriedly ripped off the armlet, sending it flying across the room and gasping for breath, the memory of Ominis’ voice breaking their trance, his trust and Sebastian's. They shook their head, gripping the side of their desk for stability, chest heaving with the effort it'd taken to resist.

What were they doing? Hadn't they promised that they wouldn't let Pain control them?

Taking a steadying breath, they squeezed their eyes tightly shut, collecting themselves for a few more moments, before opening their eyes and raising their gaze back to the glowing red band of silver, where it lay innocuously on the floor.

Well, it looked like the armlet, while convenient, brought temptation to a whole new level. How could they possibly walk around with that power right there and not partake of it? When it was within reach. When consuming more was as easy as breathing.

They would have to practise, and they couldn't do it alone.

Leaving the armlet where it lay and setting the matter aside for now, the Keeper next removed the blade from the pouch and then from its sheath, eyes wide as they took in the magnificent weapon.

It was incredibly light and almost wavy in its shape, a relatively narrow dirk blade with a tapered tip, and it was breathtakingly beautiful, polished silver so smooth that they could see their own reflection on its surface. Only broken up along the spine, by the intricate etchings that resembled the swirls carved into the armlet.

Taking a jar from the cabinet, the Keeper extracted the Fear-Pill with their wand and then paused. The pill was a solid, unlike Pain energy in whatever form it took, how would this work?

Shaking their head, the Keeper decided to try anyway, it was magic, who the fuck knew how any of this really worked. So, they lowered the black orb onto the dagger's surface and was awed when it melted into the metal, and the silver surface turned entirely pitch black, as though it'd been dipped in paint.

The Keeper wore a sharp grin as they examined the blade, admiring its new appearance with wonder.

It was incredible, the once silver surface now absorbed every speck of light, so black that it almost looked like a flat drawing, devoid of any reflections or any indication of depth. It was tempting to touch the blade's surface, but the risk that their lack of understanding presented was too high.

They still hadn't figured out how the collars and blade injected energies in a harmful way after all. They'd have to thoroughly test the blade, to see its effects and how long the Fear lasted too. The first small Fear-Pill they'd given Selwyn had kept him in his nightmares for three days and even after it wore off, and he returned to his senses, he'd been... different.

Quiet, jumpy, he barely ate and had lost some weight, a haunted look in his glazed eyes. They supposed that the Chinese water torture and Fear-Pill had been enough to break the boy's mind. Macnair was in even worse condition, since he'd lost his emotions, they'd needed to employ the Imperius curse to force him to eat and eliminate, otherwise he'd simply lie on his bed unmoving, wasting away.

On the upside, at least they didn't need to spend much on feeding the two, but at the same time, that made it difficult to conduct experiments when they didn't react properly. Even the amount of P-Pain they'd been extracting from Selwyn had been diminishing over time. He was becoming desensitised to pain, and so he yielded less energy with each torture session.

They were overdue for a fresh face to add to their number, the Keeper grinned as they sheathed and set aside the blade, especially now that they had what they needed to resume their experiments with the energies. Happily extracting the cauldron made of goblin silver, they set it down on the desk.

A quick examination of the cauldron's lid revealed two latches on the side and the Keeper unhooked them, lifting the silver cover to peer into the smooth empty bowl, excellent. Now they could finally find out what Pain and Fear could create.

As they removed the box containing their Phantom’s mask, a knock on the door caught their attention, and the Keeper lifted their head as Ominis’ voice came from the other side. “Love? Are you in here?”

“Yes, come in.” The Keeper replied, setting the box down and flicking a pulse of Ancient Magic at the door. With a click, it opened to permit the two boys on the other side.

“It's been fifteen minutes since tea, darling.” Ominis entered with a wry smile, followed by Sebastian, who was carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, as well as a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his arm.

“Has it?” The Keeper blinked in surprise, they must have been occupied with the armlet for longer than they'd thought. “My apologies, I must have lost track of time.”

“What've you got there?” Sebastian asked curiously as he set the tray down on the table.

“I was just checking out the stuff I got from Borgok.” The Keeper explained, accepting with a smile when Ominis offered them a steaming cup of tea. “Thanks.”

“Oh oh, can I see the dagger?” Sebastian asked excitedly, and the Keeper could practically see a tail wagging behind him.

With an amused smile, they handed him the sheathed blade. “Careful, I've already added Fear to it.”

As Sebastian eagerly examined the blade, Ominis took a seat on the corner of the table and the Keeper's first thought, was that his elegant perch, long slender legs hanging off the side, was a fantastic height for a blowjob. Their second thought was ‘ouch’, as Ominis bopped them on the head with his glowing wand and crossed his legs.

“My face is up here, love.” Ominis sighed. “I swear you're getting as bad as Sebastian.”

“Don't pretend you don't like it.” The Keeper chuckled as they took a sip from their tea, and Ominis lifted his chin with a huff, but didn't deny that he did like feeling desirable.

“This is incredible...” Sebastian murmured.

The Keeper glanced at him, only to exclaim in alarm. “Don't touch it! I already said I've added Fear to it!”

“It's fine, it doesn't seem like contact with the flat of the blade injects it.” Sebastian waved a hand dismissively and, setting down their teacup, they stormed over to snatch it from him.

“Glad to know, but I'd much rather slap Selwyn with the flat side to find out, than to risk you passing out with nightmares!” The Keeper huffed as they sheathed the blade and stuffed it into their satchel before he could do anything else with it.

Sebastian pouted for a few moments, before spotting the box on the table and curiously picked it up. “What's this?”

“Keep your hands to yourself, Sebastian...” Ominis sighed.

“It's just a box.” Sebastian protested.

“I don't care what it is, please put it down.” Ominis snapped.

“Fine.” The brunet grumbled but obediently passed it to the Keeper when they held their hand out for it.

“It's my mask, for work.” They explained, opening and removing the mask from the box. “Apparently it's our uniform and to protect our identities.”

“Have you tried it on yet?” Ominis asked.

“Not yet.” The Keeper shook their head.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sebastian grinned.

“I'm not exactly sure how to wear it.” They admitted with a sheepish smile. “There's no string on the back.”

“Might have a sticking charm, try placing it on your face.” Ominis suggested.

Following his suggestion, the Keeper raised it to their face and was surprised when it did indeed remain in place after they let go. “That's pretty handy.”

“Huh.” Sebastian squinted at them. “Remarkable, even though it's only covering half your face, you somehow look unfamiliar. Your jaw looks different, and even your hair is oddly difficult to focus on.”

“Is that so...” The Keeper murmured, that was handy indeed, and it was rather comfortable too.

Ominis expression was mildly disturbed as he added. “That's not all, you sound off too.”

“Really?” The Keeper blinked, that was quite a thorough disguise, and they quickly removed the mask when Ominis shuddered at their voice. “Well, it's nice to know that this will be enough to conceal my identity when working.”

“May I see?” Ominis asked curiously and the Keeper passed him the mask so that he could feel its surface. “Oh, this is quite beautiful. It suits you.”

“You flatter me, darling.” The Keeper chuckled, accepting the mask from him and tucked it away.

“And this would most certainly flatten me.” Sebastian joked, peering into the large cauldron like the Keeper had minutes ago, before fiddling with the latches. “This has to be the largest cauldron I've ever seen!”

He eyed the enormous pot speculatively for a moment.

“Here, hold this for me.” Passing the Keeper his newspaper, Sebastian braced himself to lift the cauldron, before pausing in surprise. “Huh, lighter than I expected.”

“I wanted something big enough to mix a large batch if necessary.” The Keeper explained, raising the newspaper. “What's up with the paper anyway?”

“Oh, right.” Sebastian set down the cauldron and leaned against its rim. “Page three, looks like the Aurors finally made their move.”

The Keeper flipped to the third page, finding the article, titled ‘Auror Raid Finds Dozens Of Dead Goblins’.

The article described the discovery of almost a hundred goblins dead, in what the Keeper recognised as Gnarlak’s base, and though it was annoyingly vague on the details, it did include a short interview with a junior Auror. Who, when asked if this was infighting within the goblin rebellion, called it unlikely, describing the causes of death to be ‘strange’ before his superior hurriedly shooed the journalist away.

“They probably died from the shock of cold turkey when their bodies burnt through their remaining E-Pain.” The Keeper murmured as they finished reading the article.

Lowering the newspaper, they noticed Ominis’ lips pursed and fingers tight around the edge of the table.

Touching their fingers gently to his knuckles, the Keeper smiled softly. “There's no danger of that happening to me, we have ample stock available, and it isn't in danger of running out.”

The unspoken ‘because I can make more’ hung in the air and Ominis sighed with a pained expression, giving them a curt nod. He was clearly still not comfortable with what the Keeper was doing, and they were uncertain if he ever would be. The reminder that he was merely tolerating their activities was both heartening and saddening in equal measure.

It felt nice, powerful, to know that he was willing to look the other way out of love, but they also knew that that came at a cost. A cost to his self-image, and that had already not been great to begin with, being a snake that wanted to be a meek lamb.

They wished desperately that he could just accept himself the way he was, to just commit himself wholeheartedly to a decision, and not beat himself up for what he wanted. He would be so much happier, but that wasn't exactly something anyone could force him to do. Sebastian had been trying since they were eleven and he still hadn't gotten anywhere.

Though, admittedly, the brunet was terrible at it, being completely unable to even see what Ominis despised about himself at all. Perhaps understandable, since Sebastian loved him so innocently and wholeheartedly, warts and all.

“What's that, off in the corner?” Ominis asked, perhaps looking to change the subject, he pointed off to the side.

Towards the armlet.

The Keeper almost wanted to laugh, but it would be quite inappropriate at the moment, so they swallowed it as Sebastian glanced over too. “Oh, is that the armlet? What's it doing on the floor?”

The Keeper sighed. “Because I almost took more than today's maintenance dose.”

Ominis frowned. “You tried it on without us?”

Wincing, the Keeper took his hand and placed it on their face, allowing him to see their expression. “I'm sorry, I thought I'd be able to control myself. It was just supposed to be a quick test to figure out how to use it.”

“Did you toss it because you lost control?” Sebastian asked and the Keeper paused for a moment.

“Well... yes.” They admitted.

“Then you were fighting it, and won. I think that counts for something.” Sebastian pointed out and the Keeper gave him a grateful smile for his support. “And they have been doing pretty well despite having to drop dosage after their dragon fight.”

Ominis frowned at him for a moment, trapped between still being upset at their testing of the armlet unsupervised, and not wanting to denounce the Keeper's efforts, for obvious reasons, and they were mildly amused at the corner that Sebastian had seemingly accidentally backed Ominis into.

“I suppose you're right.” Ominis eventually sighed, turning back towards the Keeper. “I'm glad you managed to stop this time. I just wish you could... completely stop.”

“I know.” The Keeper murmured and smoothed out the frown on his forehead with a thumb, rather happy to have their efforts recognised, it wasn't easy to take a gradually decreasing dose of Pain energy every day. “But if we keep thinking of what we can't change, we can't do anything about what we can change.”

“Does anything even need to change?” Sebastian asked, folding his arms. “I mean, let's not pretend that my dagger was the only thing that brought them home. Without Pain energy, they wouldn't have gotten far enough to even use it.”

The Keeper eyed him curiously, while Ominis narrowed his eyes and declared. “That may be true, but they still shouldn't be over-reliant on that stuff. The sooner they can stop, the better.”

“Why?” Sebastian challenged. “As far as we've seen, aside from withdrawal, there haven't been any negative side effects.”

“That's-” Ominis bristled, his hand leaving the Keeper's face to gesture wildly, exclaiming in disbelief. “We've already heard of Isidora going mad and Ranrok turning into a monster and almost a hundred goblins dying from it! Are you really so reckless as to risk any of those happening to them!?”

Sebastian's eyes narrowed at the implication that he didn't care about danger to the Keeper’s life.

“Yeah, sure! They've been using it for two years without problems. I'd take an unknown percentage chance of either happening over having a stick of charcoal to bury!” Sebastian retaliated and Ominis recoiled in indignation.

“So you're fine with them taking something so inherently dangerous forever!?” Ominis’ voice was now pitched high in distressed incredulity.

“We don't even know if it is dangerous for them!” Sebastian groaned in frustration. “Isidora was already insane to begin with, who in their right mind would think losing all emotion and sense of self is a cure!? Maybe their Ancient Magic makes them immune to becoming a monster. And the goblins died from cold turkey withdrawal, but we have the means to create more so that's not a concern.”

“Means to make more.” Ominis echoed bitterly. “How lightly you speak of torture.”

Seeing that none of his words were getting through to Ominis, and perhaps hurt by being painted so negatively by someone he loved, Sebastian growled, low and angry. “Why don't you just say it? You think I don't care! You think I'm a heartless monster!”

“What else am I supposed to think!?” Ominis exclaimed, and at that confirmation, redness began darkening the skin around Sebastian's eyes.

Oh boy, the Keeper sighed, they needed to get their partners back on track, both of them were going completely off the rails.

Raising their hands and voice before things could get worse, the Keeper interjected. “Look, boys. Quarrelling over this achieves nothing!”

The two paused and the Keeper barrelled on before the boys could start shooting again. “The facts are these, I need the Pain energy, at least for now, if I want to achieve our goals. And I'm doing my best to be cautious. I'm thinking of wearing the armlet outside of battle to see if I can train up my resistance and self-control.”

“Or, you can just stick to the jars that have worked so far.” Ominis countered.

“Oh, great!” Sebastian barked a disdainful laugh. “Let's never improve our methodology. Let's keep giving enemies more openings to kill our partner. And all to avoid a potentially dangerous outcome that hasn't even been proven to exist!”

“Sebastian.” The Keeper held a hand up to hush him before Ominis could explode, and the brunet obediently folded his arms with a sulky expression.

Taking Ominis’ balled up fists and coaxing them to relax, the Keeper spoke as soothingly as possible. “Love, we haven't even tried yet, we don't have any information to be afraid over. I made a mistake, I should have tried the armlet with you and Sebastian, but even then, I managed to catch and stop myself. Cast diagnosa on me, and you can see for yourself that I'm alright.”

“Their eyes weren't even red when we came in.” Sebastian added with a pointed huff.

Ominis threw a glare in his general direction, casting the diagnostic charm on the Keeper with an irritated flick of his wand. He frowned for a moment, before giving them a grudging sigh. Well, that's encouraging.

The Keeper placed a gentle peck on Ominis’ lips, before continuing with a smile. “Let's just try, slowly. I'll put a tiny sliver into the armlet. Wear it around the house and to bed tonight. Just a small amount that won't go over tomorrow's maintenance dose, even if I accidentally take some. And you can be right by my side and monitor my condition the whole time. Alright?”

His expression was still sour, but Ominis gave them a curt nod and the Keeper bit back their own sigh, knowing from the look in his eyes that this discussion was far from over.

Notes:

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

I feel like Sebastian would get the Patronus charm really quickly, mostly just because he's so one-track minded, ma boi is just super happy when he's happy and just super angry when he's angry. Ominis is constantly feeling a mix of conflicting emotions and the Keeper's just kinda desensitised and dead inside.

Also, fun fact, in cat sociology, the higher cat in the hierarchy grooms the ones beneath them. In other words, that was some dom power move from Ominis, to be grooming a bloody wolf twice his size xP

I really wanna draw these kids cuddling as Animagi, but I'm not super confident that I can draw animals well, so it'll take some experimentation xD Edit: It was hard, holy shit, it was so hard. But I am kinda happy with how it turned out, so yay! God, I love the fold of Sebastian's ear, I feel like it fits him, so I'm happy with how that turned out xP

Wheee! We finally get to torture Tobbs’ owner, it's gonna be great. Hope you guys are looking forward to it xP I feel like one of the root causes of Sebastian and Ominis’ conflict in the game is their differing ways of making decisions.

Ominis uses morality to value things, including himself. Am I a ‘good’ person? However he kinda goes with vibes to decide what's ‘good’, because he's not experienced enough to realise that what feels ‘good’ or doesn't, is subjective. ‘Good’ changes depending on what you prioritise, what angle you view a scenario from.

Sebastian on the other hand, is very critical, very logical and almost oblivious to the vibes around a topic, and that can come off as cold and calculative, when it's the more objective and empirical approach. Especially because it doesn't come naturally to him, to give people like Ominis good vibes before trying to reason with them. Throw in Sebastian's tendency to honestly display his very strong emotions and opinions if he's feeling them, and people somehow decide he's faking them because he's usually so logical.

Which is probably why some people like Ominis more than Sebastian, because Ominis is more visually and vibe-y relatable (especially for people who are also vibes based) and he virtue-signals super hard, and people tend to wrongly conflate that cold/calculative vibe with manipulative. When in reality, Ominis is vibes-based PLUS manipulative, whereas Sebastian is logical and calculative but not manipulative.

The next chapter will be almost entirely dedicated to resolving this (particular) conflict and I hope ya'll will like how the drama goes ;)

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, April 7

BUFFY: Y'know, I never stopped thinking about you. RILEY: Me neither. All I had in there was this one little part of you. (Gives her bandana piece) BUFFY: It's just the scarf part of me really. RILEY: Sure it is. Just knowing you were out there...that you cared...

~~This Year's Girl~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Pieces by CoffeeHunt (Fanged Four, M)

Research by skargasm (Xander/Spike, T)

Poem: the spark by LiraelClayr007 (Buffy/Spike, T)

Untitled ("big anya problem") by scooby-group-texts (Xander/Anya, not rated, worksafe, posted as an image)

Partly Cloudly, Eclipse 1999 by Saranac (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

First Day by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy, anthology rated PG-13)

Me and My Shadow by Chelle (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Surviving Together, Ch. 17 by ionlylikebadboys (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Something Lost Something Found, Ch. 8 by Safire (Buffy/Spike, R)

Love Lives Here, Ch. 46 by Passion4Spike (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Rebehold the Stars (Love from the Other Side of the Apocalypse) Ch. 11 by Asokatanos (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Wilderness Retreat OR Super Mega Happy Kill-A-Rama! Ch. 3 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Gargoyle, Ch. 2 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Boyfrenemy, Ch. 5-8 by Lady Emma (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Celebrating You, Ch. 5 by DeamonQueen (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Scoobies in Neptune, Ch. 30 by Buffyworldbuilder (Veronica Mars crossover, FR7)

When Ethan Rayne made Rambo, Ch. 9 by SplitEnz (Rambo crossover, Xander, FR15)

An odd Couple of grumpy old Brits, Ch. 11 by Julikobold (Giles & Spike, Buffy/Spike, G)

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy, Ch. 29 by Slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

To All We Guard, Ch. 11 by simmony (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Perfect Clarity, Ch. 25 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Tarot card design: Andrew my little strudel Page of Cups by isevery0nehereverystoned (worksafe)

Meme: Positive reminders 🫶 by shewhosleepsalotincemeteries (Faith, probably worksafe, canon-typical manslaughter)

Giles/Jenny screencaps captioned with text posts by vampswritings (probably worksafe, somewhat nsfw text in a small font)

I tried drawing Drusilla from memory. Thoughts? by Coochie_Von_Moochie (worksafe)

Queer Buffyverse Moodboards by MadeInGold (Buffy, Dawn, Darla, G)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Fredless by evolutionleftovers

Buffy S7E2: Beneath You | Booze & Buffy

Superstar by Buffy the Vampire Straya

Pop Culture Role Call: Angel Series & Buffyverse Wrap-Up

[Recs & In Search Of]

All time favourite Spuffy fanfics recced by williamprattz

[Community Announcements]

alexsrousseau made an 18+ Buffy/Giles BtVS server

[Fandom Discussions]

People are too harsh about Kennedy from btvs by explosionshark

So Jesse’s death was supposed to be a twist right? by nicnacsnonsense

Watching the episode with Marcie... by nicnacsnonsense

I feel like ppl write the Slayer off too quickly. by theredpharaoah

I was thinking about Willow's will-be-done spell from S4... by ashmaenas

Re: favorite BTVS character arc? by breathing-and-stuff

Xander becomes such a compelling character when you imagine... by felixsfishnets

AU... where Spike is just a little more overtly bisexual than he is in canon, and Andrew gets turned... by lierdumoa

Re: If you could have given Riley a B-plot in an episode he didn't have one... by riley-summers

Riley ship opinions, pt. 3, Polyship edition by riley-summers

Tara and Riley friendship headcanons by riley-summers

Andrew - comic man-child or naive nuisance? (cont'd) by multiple people

Re: Where are people from, do they write, and has upbringing or location affected their work? by DeepBlueJoy

Which [AtS] “bad guy” character deserved another chance? by buffyangel468

willow x faith could have actually worked by Saturneinyourhead

How do the vampire origins, ubervamps, The Master, and Kakistos all work together in the Buffyverse lore? by cre8ivemind

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[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt.10

Word Count: 22.3k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, possession, forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, tw if u have tokophobia, extortion, threats, manipulation, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, Xavier appears, tw vomiting, arguing, blood and gore, nausea, Zayne appears ;)

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey, @webmvie, @housesortinghat, @fading-twinkle, @shoruio, @gojos1ut, @solomonlover, @cheesenjam, @elegantnightblaze, @mavphorias, @babylavendersblog, @burntoutfrogacademic, @sinstae, @certainduckanchor, @ladyackermanisdead, @sh4nn, @milkandstarlight, @lilyadora, @depressedwhore, @nyumin, @kiwookse

AN: Hi all! This is of course on A03! I pulled some all nighters to get this chapter done and then procrastinated doing the editing process LOL. Either way, its here and I guess thats all that matters ^0^. Also, the taglist has gotten SO long omg. Ty all to my frequent readers and commenters, I love reading your comments and theories in the comments and asks! I am forever grateful to have cultivated a follwing of 1,156 people who love my writing! Mwah! Enjoy! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱𖹭

“I know this is hard for you,” Sylus began, his voice quieter than you expected, softer. “But do you really plan to just avoid me the whole time? I’m the father of the baby, honey. You should at least try and talk to me about how you’re feeling. You aren't alone in all this.” “I…” Your voice trembled as you tried to find the words, your chest tight with the weight of it all. “You…you weren’t supposed to be the father of my baby, Sylus.”

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.11

The room was silent, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing beside him. You lay curled up on the bed, fragile and exhausted, your cheeks still damp from the tears you had shed throughout the day. Sylus sat beside you, watching you in the dim light. His eyes followed the gentle rise and fall of your chest, but it wasn't the sight of your slumber that held his focus. It was the way your body seemed to shrink from him, even in sleep, as if rejecting his presence.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, the weight of your distance sinking deep into his chest. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He never imagined it would hurt this much—to see you so broken, to feel your body, your spirit, pulling away from him when he had only wanted to draw you closer.

Sylus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. He traced the path of your dried tears with a gentleness that felt foreign on his skin, his thumb grazing the soft skin beneath your eye. You stirred slightly, a soft shiver running through your body at his touch, and even in your sleep, you wanted away from him. His hand froze mid-motion, the rejection clear even in your unconscious state. His heart clenched, and he pulled his hand back, letting out a long, weary breath.

He had spent the last two weeks watching you drift further away. It pained him, more than he was willing to admit, to see you like this—crying through the days, avoiding his gaze, barely speaking to him. You ate in silence, not a word passing your lips as you forced down meals, your once-feisty but still lively spirit dulled to a muted shell. The life inside you should have been something that brought you together, a bond to strengthen what he so desperately craved. But instead, it felt like you were slipping further and further from him, and it was tearing him apart.

Sylus’s gaze lowered to your stomach, hidden beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown. He stared at the slight curve, though it was still too early to truly show. His breath caught in his throat as he reached out, hesitating just before his hand hovered above your belly. Carefully, as though not to disturb you, he rested his palm against it. It was warm, and moved with your every breath. Flat still, of course—but the thought of what was growing inside sent a thrill through him.

What would you look like fully pregnant?

The image consumed him. The idea of your body changing—transforming—to nurture the life he had placed inside you. Your stomach rounding, your breasts swelling with the promise of nourishing the child. His child. His fingers trembled slightly as he imagined it—how your body would evolve, the way you would look heavy with his creation.

It excited him in ways he hadn’t expected. His pulse quickened, and he swallowed hard, his thumb brushing the fabric that covered your skin. This was the future he had longed for—the one thing he had wanted since he laid eyes on you. You, having his baby, bound to him forever. A leash you couldn't remove. And yet, you fought it. You fought him.

A shadow passed over his expression as he thought of the lengths he’d had to go to. The way he’d had to threaten Xavier’s life, knowing it would crush you. He hadn’t wanted to make you afraid, not really—but he couldn’t take any chances. He couldn’t risk you doing anything to harm the baby. Not when he was this close to having everything he had ever wanted.

His grip on your belly tightened ever so slightly, though he was careful not to wake you. The life growing inside you was his dream made real, and he wouldn't let anything—or anyone—jeopardize that. Not even you. He would make you see, one way or another, that this child was a gift. His gift to you.

A quiet, frustrated sigh left his lips as he leaned closer, his voice a low whisper in the dimness of the room. "You'll understand one day. I’m doing this for us. For our family." His words hung heavy in the air, almost as if he were trying to convince himself as much as you.

You stirred again, but you didn’t wake. Your body curled tighter, seeking distance from him once again. Sylus stared at you for a moment longer, his fingers brushing lightly over the flatness of your abdomen, already imagining the swell that would come in the months ahead. A dark stir of pleasure swelled in his chest and made his way to his groin.

Soon, you would change. Soon, you would be perfect. Even more perfect than you already were.

He just needed to fix this. To make you understand. Then everything would be as it should be.

His gaze drifted upward again, lingering on your face, and this time, his eyes fell on your lips. Soft, slightly parted in sleep, they looked so delicate, so inviting. He had always been drawn to you—your beauty, your strength—but there was something about this moment, seeing you so still, so vulnerable, that stirred something deeper in him. His heart thudded in his chest as his eyes traced the gentle curve of your lips, and a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to be inside your warm walls washed over him.

You had been very sick these past few weeks, and he was very patient in giving you space, careful not to touch you in unwanted places. He knew better than anyone that you didn't feel well enough to even leave the bed some days, much less have sex with him.

He leaned in slightly, his breath catching as he watched your lips, his pulse quickening in his veins. How easy it would be to close the distance, to press his mouth to yours. To claim you, even in your sleep, as though his touch might erase the space you had been placing between the two of you for the past two weeks. His hand twitched at his side, the thought of you squirming under him, softly sleeping while he entered into you sending another thrill down his spine, dark and possessive.

For a moment, his face hovered just above yours, his breath mingling with yours in the dim light. His lips were so close—just a whisper away from touching yours. The heat of his desire pulsed through him, urging him forward, every fiber of his being drawn to you. But as he stared at your peaceful expression, something stopped him. A flicker of hesitation flashed through his mind.

Even in this moment, even with you asleep and unguarded, he could feel the tension between you. The way your body had instinctively recoiled from his touch earlier, the way you had shivered beneath his fingers. You weren’t inviting him in. You weren’t his—not yet, not completely. Even if he claimed you physically, your heart would still belong to another. His child was growing inside you, your body was changing because of him, and yet…your heart was still distant. Still locked away, belonging to someone else.

It hurt. It fucking hurt.

His jaw clenched, frustration simmering beneath the surface, but he forced himself to pull back, his heart still pounding with the lingering heat of the almost-kiss. He exhaled sharply before he shifted back, denying himself the satisfaction.

Xavier.

The name flickered through his mind like an unwanted intruder, making his jaw tighten. Even after everything, even as you lay beside him, carrying his child, there was still a part of you that loved Xavier. He hated that thought. It festered inside him, gnawing at his control. He had done what was necessary—hadn’t he? He’d kept you safe, made sure nothing would happen to jeopardize the future they were building. But your heart...your loyalty...that still belonged to another man.

His gaze darkened for a moment as he stared down at you, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. But then, he forced himself to breathe, to calm the storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t think about that now. It didn’t matter. Not yet.

Sylus exhaled sharply, forcing the tension from his shoulders as he reached for his phone. His fingers slid across the screen, and he checked the time. 6:54 a.m. The time felt irrelevant here. In the N109 Zone, the sun never rose, the darkness an ever-present veil that clung to every moment. Morning and night were nothing but markers on a clock. Still, you’d wake soon, the same way you always did. The brief moments of sleep you allowed yourself would end, and the silence between you would stretch on once more.

He sighed, scrolling through his contacts. There were preparations to make. The doctor. The ultrasound. He would have the specialist come here, to their safe little world, where you had nowhere to run. It would happen next week. That’s when everything would become undeniable. He’d set everything in motion today—make the calls, confirm the appointments. You wouldn’t be able to deny it any longer when the doctor showed you the baby, when you heard its heartbeat.

Our child.

He slipped the phone back onto the table, the faint light from the screen casting eerie shadows across the room before fading back into darkness. His gaze shifted once more to your sleeping form, your breath slow and even, your body curled up beneath the blankets. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Even in the darkness, you looked beautiful like this, fragile, vulnerable, but still strong.

It’s fine, he told himself as he watched you. You just need to be affirmed that this is real.

Once you saw the baby, once you felt it growing inside of you, the doubt would fade. You wouldn’t be able to escape the truth anymore. You’d have to accept that the future was already here—growing inside your body. A future that bound you to him forever.

Sylus leaned back against the headboard, his hand resting idly on the sheets beside you, the excitement stirring in his chest once again. He could wait. He would be patient. Everything was falling into place, just as it should.

Next week, everything would change.

Sylus had barely drifted off when the soft groan from your side of the bed pulled him back to consciousness. His eyes snapped open, and the familiar darkness of the room greeted him, heavy and oppressive but oddly comforting. He blinked once, twice, shaking off the haze of exhaustion. But that groan—it lingered in the air, filled with a quiet distress that sent a sharp pang of worry through his chest.

He turned his head just in time to see you kick the covers off with a desperation that tightened something deep within him. You were restless again, and he could see the fatigue in the way your movements were frantic, almost disoriented. Sylus watched you for a moment, his mind sluggish from the sleepless night he'd spent keeping vigil beside you, but concern sharpened his focus as you stumbled out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom.

“Honey?” His voice was rough, hoarse from lack of sleep, and tinged with a worry he couldn’t fully mask. He pushed himself up quickly, his body protesting the movement, muscles stiff from having spent the night tense and alert. But you were already halfway to the bathroom, ignoring him entirely. You disappeared into the bathroom without so much as a backward glance.

Sylus sat there for a moment, staring at the entrance, a wave of frustration flickering to life alongside the worry. He had tried—really tried—to help, to stay by your side, to make this easier for you. But it never seemed to matter. Every day for the past two weeks, you had pulled further and further away, as if he were the source of your pain instead of the person trying to alleviate it.

His jaw tightened as the sounds of retching echoed through the thin walls of the bathroom. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his face in a futile attempt to shake off the exhaustion weighing him down. You hadn't acknowledged him, hadn’t even answered when he called out to you. The knot in his chest tightened, the frustration quickly morphing into something more painful.

It’s the pregnancy, he told himself, trying to push away the darker thoughts that gnawed at the back of his mind. The nausea, the sickness—it was all part of it. Part of the process of carrying his child. A necessary sacrifice. But even as he reassured himself, the fear lingered. What if it wasn’t just the physical toll of pregnancy pushing you away? What if it was something deeper? Something that ran far beneath the surface, something he couldn’t fix?

He shook the thought away, unwilling to face the possibility, and made his way to the bathroom. His footsteps were hesitant as he approached the entrance, the muffled sounds of your retching growing louder. His hand hovered near the handle, uncertainty freezing him in place. Should he go in? Should he give you space? Every instinct screamed for him to be near you, to help, but every time he got close, you pulled away. Recoiled. As if his presence was suffocating.

The sound of you heaving again shattered his hesitation. Sylus stepped in cautiously, emerging into the dimly lit bathroom. The sight of you, hunched over the toilet, your body trembling from the force of vomiting, made something inside him twist painfully. You looked so fragile, so small, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there, helpless. The air was thick with the sharp tang of bile, and each sound of your labored breathing felt like a punch to his chest.

He wanted to help. But he knew, deep down, that if he touched you, you would pull away. Just like you had every time he tried to get close lately.

Still, the sight of you in pain made him push forward. He couldn’t just stand there. He knelt down beside you, the cold tile biting into his knees as he watched your body convulse with another wave of nausea. His hand hovered uncertainly near your back, his fingers twitching with the urge to comfort you. He wanted to smooth your hair back, to tell you it would be okay, but he hesitated. You had flinched at his touch so many times before, and the sting of it was something he wasn’t sure he could bear again.

But you looked so worn, so utterly defeated, that he decided to risk it. Slowly, gently, he rested his hand on your back, hoping the touch would bring you some semblance of comfort. But just as he feared, you jerked away from him almost immediately, your body tensing under his hand as if his touch burned.

The rejection hit him harder than it should have, the familiar sting of it settling deep in his chest. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. He couldn’t show weakness. Not now.

“My kitten’s got claws this morning, hm?” he tried, his voice soft, laced with an attempt at humor. He was hoping to spark a reaction, hoping for the sharp retort that had once been so typical of you. But the silence that followed felt heavy, oppressive. You didn’t respond. You didn’t even look at him.

You just sat there, your body slumped, your eyes distant. It was worse than anger. Worse than the fire that once flared between you. This was something far more dangerous. This was resignation.

“Sylus…” Your voice was a whisper, so faint he almost missed it. But the sound of his name coming from you sent a jolt through him. He leaned in closer to hear you better, his heart pounding.

"What is it sweetie?"

“What’s the point in making me eat if I’m just going to throw it all up anyway?”

The words hit him like a blow, the quiet defeat in your voice making his breath catch. He didn’t know how to answer. The logical part of him knew the answer—you needed to eat for the baby, for the life growing inside you. But hearing you say it like that, hearing the hopelessness in your tone, made him falter.

He swallowed hard, forcing a smile onto his lips, though it felt hollow. “Kitten,” he murmured, trying to keep his voice gentle, “you need to eat. The baby needs you to eat, even if it comes back up. It’s better than nothing.”

He hoped—hoped—that mentioning the baby would remind you of what mattered. That it would pull you out of this darkness and make you see the bigger picture. But the look in your eyes told him it wasn’t enough. You weren’t angry. You weren’t fighting. You were just…tired. And that scared him more than anything.

Sylus hesitated, his hand hovering near your back again, but this time he didn’t touch you. He didn’t want to risk pushing you further away. Not when you were already so far gone.

“We’ll get through this,” he whispered, though the words felt like a desperate plea more than a reassurance. “I’m right here.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, stretching out between the two of you like an unbridgeable chasm. He watched you, waiting for some sign, some flicker of the fire that once burned so brightly in you. But all you gave him was a soft sigh, a sound so quiet and filled with exhaustion that it twisted something inside him.

And then, to his surprise, you reached out.

Your hand, trembling slightly, extended toward him, palm open and waiting. Sylus stared at it, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t much—a small gesture—but to him, it felt monumental. You were asking for his help. Willingly. His heart skipped a beat, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. Maybe this was a turning point. Maybe you were starting to see that he was on your side, that he wasn’t the enemy.

He took your hand gently, his grip firm but careful, afraid that if he held on too tightly, you would slip away again. The warmth of your skin against his sent a wave of relief through him, and for a brief moment, everything felt right again.

But the moment was fleeting.

As soon as he helped you up from the cold bathroom floor, you pulled your hand away, retreating into yourself once more. Without a word, you turned your back on him and walked away, distancing yourself both physically and emotionally. The connection that had sparked between you was gone, snuffed out before it had even fully formed.

Sylus’s hand hung in the air for a moment, his fingers still tingling from the brief contact, but the weight of your rejection settled heavily on his shoulders. His arm dropped to his side, the frustration bubbling up again, though he forced himself to swallow it. He watched you march back to the bedroom, your back rigid, as if you were desperate to much distance between the two of you as possible.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. You were drifting away from him, piece by piece, and no matter how hard he tried to pull you back, it never seemed to be enough.

But he couldn’t push you. Not now. Not when you were carrying his child. He had to give you space. He had to be patient. He couldn't risk stressing you out.

Turning toward the window, Sylus stared out into the never-ending darkness of the N109 Zone. The preparations for next week’s ultrasound weighed heavily on his mind. The doctor’s visit would change things. It had to. Once you saw the baby, once you heard the heartbeat, everything would be different. You would see that this wasn’t something to be afraid of. You would understand what he was trying to give you—a future. A family.

For now, he would give you the space you seemed to need. But soon, the reality of the baby growing inside you would become undeniable.

And then, maybe… just maybe, you’d come back to him.

Sylus’s fingers tapped idly against the glass of his phone as he stared at the screen, watching the live feed from Mephisto’s eyes. You were there, sitting by the window, staring into the endless, suffocating darkness that swallowed the N109 Zone whole. Your shoulders were slumped, your body curled in on itself, and every now and then, you would lie down on the floor, as if the weight of everything was pressing down on you too hard to stay upright. His jaw clenched as he watched, frustration building inside him.

This is bad.

You had always been resistant, always fought back, but this…this was something different. You weren’t fighting anymore. You weren’t snapping at him or throwing up those fiery walls of defiance he had grown used to. Instead, you were retreating further into yourself, growing more distant with each passing day. The way your body slumped, the way your gaze lingered in the dark void beyond the window—it was getting worse. He could see it, feel it.

Luke and Kieran had reported the same. You had refused their usual games, even Kitty Cards, the one thing that normally drew a spark of life from you. Now, you just sat in silence, staring at nothing. The reports stung more than he wanted to admit, but he had brushed them off with a simple wave of his hand. The twins didn’t understand. They couldn’t. You were complicated, yes, but you were his. You’d come around...eventually.

But as the days passed and your silence grew heavier, Sylus found himself questioning his own certainty.

What can I do?

His mind reeled, sifting through memories, trying to recall something—anything—that might pull you back. Something that might bring you closer, back to the fire and spirit you once had. And then it hit him: those days he spent watching you from afar, studying your every move. You used to be so vibrant, so full of life. You had routines, little quirks, things you enjoyed. You wore your emotions on your sleeve back then, not hidden behind walls of silence and sadness.

Plushies. The thought came suddenly, and he blinked in realization. You had so many of them in your apartment back then, lining your shelves, covering your bed. They had been a part of your life, a small thing, but it was something you loved. Something that made you happy.

Sylus thought of your apartment for a moment. He could go back, retrieve your old plushies—sentimental things, he thought—but quickly dismissed the idea. Too risky. Not because he was afraid of Xavier—no, he had no fear of that man. But the idea of crossing paths with him was a distraction he didn’t need. There was no reason to stir the pot when it could be avoided.

He smirked to himself. No need for that. He had the resources. Endless resources.

The thought turned into action quickly. As soon as his meeting was over, he made his way to Linkon, the place where he had hoped you had long left behind in the depths of your mind. The streets felt familiar under his feet, but the urgency was different now. He wasn’t stalking you, studying your life. This time, he had a mission.

He walked through the streets, eyes scanning every shop and storefront with purpose. It didn’t matter where the plushies came from, not really. They were just material things. But a part of him—perhaps the part still clinging to the memories of you in that life—thought it might mean more if they came from here, from this place that had once been yours. He continued down the street, stopping when something caught his eye.

The arcade.

It was the one you had frequented with Xavier or Tara on occasion, the place where you had spent so many nights laughing, playing games, and winning prizes from those crane machines filled with plushies. Sylus’s eyes narrowed as the idea formed in his mind. He stepped inside, the dim, flashing lights of the arcade casting odd shadows on the floor. The sounds of games whirring and children laughing filled the space, but Sylus barely noticed. His eyes went straight to the crane machines.

The machines were full of plushies—adorable, colorful things, soft and sweet, just like the ones you used to love. He scanned the contents inside, his mind already spinning with possibilities. This wasn’t his usual scene. No, not even close. But for you? He’d endure it. He’d do anything if it meant pulling you out of that dark hole you were sinking into.

This was where you used to come, where you would smile, your eyes lighting up as you played the games with such focus. He could see it, almost feel it.

And then, as he approached the line of crane machines, it happened—a fleeting vision, like a memory, washed over him. He blinked, and for a moment, there you were. You were standing in front of one of the machines, your fingers gripping the controls as you concentrated, your lips curving into a bright, beautiful smile. The way you laughed, the way you cheered when you finally won a plushie—the image was so real, so vivid, that he could almost reach out and touch you.

He blinked again, and it was gone.

The claw machines sat before him, but now they were just stuffed with silent, lifeless toys. The space where you had stood was empty, your laughter only a ghost in his mind. Sylus inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening. He shook off the hallucination. Focus.

He walked up to one of the machines, eyeing the prizes inside. His fingers slid into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins and tokens he had purchased at the counter. The machine whirred to life as he fed the tokens in, the claw dropping down with a clumsy movement. He tried once, twice, three times—but the claw was weak, releasing its grip on the plushies just before it could carry them to the prize slot. His frustration grew with each failed attempt, his jaw tightening. Rigged, he thought bitterly.

As he was about to try again, an employee approached him, a young woman with a nervous smile on her face. “Uh, sir? If you’d like, we have a coupon for more tokens at half price.”

Sylus didn’t even glance her way as he responded, his voice flat. “No need.”

“Oh! Okay, well...uh...”

The girl blinked, confused for a moment, but before she could offer another suggestion, Sylus turned his gaze toward her, sharp and cold. “How much to buy this entire arcade?”

The employee’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form words. “I-I’ll…go get my boss,” she stammered before rushing away, her footsteps barely audible over the noise of the games.

Sylus watched her retreat, his fingers drumming idly against his thigh as he waited. The arcade lights blinked overhead, casting colorful shadows across the room, but to him, the place felt hollow without you here. He had only come because this arcade had meant something to you. It didn’t matter if the plushies came from here or somewhere else, not really. But for some reason, deep down, he thought it might mean more if they came from a place tied to your past. To your life. It wasn’t just a purchase—it was a way to remind you of who you were. To anchor you back.

Sylus slid his hands into his pockets as he scanned the area again. A few minutes later, the owner appeared, a shorter man in his mid-forties with a look of disbelief on his face. He stepped forward cautiously, wiping his hands nervously on his uniform. “Uh, sir, I’m not sure I heard correctly, but did you—did you say you wanted to buy the arcade?”

Sylus nodded, his expression unchanging. “Yes. How much?”

The man sputtered, clearly taken aback by the directness. “Well, uh… I don’t know if we’ve ever…I mean…”

“Name a number,” Sylus interrupted, his tone firm. He didn’t have time for negotiations.

The owner hesitated for a moment, then threw out a figure, clearly testing the waters. “Five hundred thousand?”

Without missing a beat, Sylus pulled out his phone and transferred the funds on the spot. “Done. Banking information?”

After cautiously and nervously giving him the details, owner’s face paled as he checked his account, the shock evident in his wide eyes. He stumbled over his words again. “I…I don’t know what to say…”

“There’s nothing to say. My lawyers will be in contact to draw up a contract for you to sign, acknowledging that you got the money.” Sylus gave a curt nod before walking back toward the crane machines. The arcade now belonged to him, and with it, every single plushie inside. He would make sure you got what you needed, whether you wanted it or not.

Anything to pull you out of the darkness.

Sylus returned home later that day, the weight of the bag of plushies in his hand, his steps deliberate. He had spent the afternoon in Linkon, finding the perfect toys to bring you some semblance of comfort. The arcade had been a ridiculous purchase, but it didn’t matter. He’d do anything if it meant pulling you out of the dark place you’d been sinking into.

But as he neared the bedroom, he felt that familiar heaviness settle over him. The silence in the house was thick, the air heavy with tension. It had been like this for weeks now—no more sharp retorts from you, no more fights. Just a hollow, quiet resignation that ate away at him.

He pushed the door open slightly and stopped, noticing something unusual. You weren’t sitting by the window or on the bed, where you usually sulked in silence. Instead, you were on the floor, your chain stretching behind you. And you were talking—softly, your voice trembling, words coming out in fragments.

His breath caught in his throat, and instead of stepping fully into the room, Sylus lingered by the door, listening.

Perched on your finger was Mephisto, his loyal bird, his own creation. But right now, the bird wasn’t spying for him. Instead, it seemed to be the only company you had, its head tilted as it listened to you speak.

"I never imagined myself being a mom this soon…" Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the sadness in it was unmistakable. Sylus’s hand tightened around the doorknob as he strained to hear more. “Mephisto…what do you think Xavier will think? If I...ever escape? Or when he comes for me? Will he still love me if I’m pregnant with this baby?"

The words hit Sylus like a physical blow.

Xavier. Always Xavier.

His heart pounded, his vision blurring with rage as you continued speaking. That name…that man. Every time you said it, it was like a dagger twisting in his chest. You were here, with him, carrying his child, and yet your thoughts were still consumed by Xavier. It was unbearable. If it weren’t for the fact that Xavier’s life was tied to the babies health, he would have erased that pest ages ago.

“I miss him…sometimes I wonder if he thinks of me”.

He couldn’t listen anymore.

The door swung open, the sudden motion startling both you and Mephisto. The bird flapped its wings, flying up to land on Sylus’s shoulder, as if sensing the tension in the room. You immediately stopped speaking, your body going rigid. Your hand, which had been cradling the bird, fell to your side as you looked up at him in shock, your eyes wide, caught in the act of voicing your deepest thoughts.

Sylus stepped into the room, his gaze fixed on you, burning with a mixture of frustration and anger. He could feel the pulse of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he took in the sight of you, chained by the bed, your eyes wide and tear-streaked. And yet, even now, you were still thinking of Xavier.

You didn’t say anything as he entered. You just pushed yourself up from the floor and moved toward the window, dragging the chain with you, the metal links clinking against the floor. You sat by the window, your back turned to him, staring out into the endless darkness of the N109 Zone. Your shoulders slumped, and it was clear you had retreated back into that shell of silence again.

The knot in Sylus’s chest tightened painfully. He had bought the plushies for you, spent the whole afternoon thinking about how they might cheer you up, how they might remind you of something familiar, something that made you happy before. But now, standing here, the distance between you felt insurmountable.

He stepped forward, his voice low but strained, “These are for you, kitten.” He gestured toward the plushies, trying to keep his tone calm, trying to pretend that your indifference didn’t hurt him as much as it did.

His throat tightened as he set the bag down on the floor, plush toys spilling from the opening in a colorful mess. He stood there for a moment, waiting, watching to see if you would acknowledge him, acknowledge what he had done for you. But instead, you barely glanced over your shoulder, your gaze landing on the bag briefly before you turned back toward the window.

You sighed softly, the sound barely audible but heavy with the weight of your exhaustion.

“I miss the sun,” you whispered, your voice hollow, defeated. "I miss the stars. My star."

Sylus felt something break inside him. The sun. Of course, it wasn’t just the sun you missed—it was the life you had before. The freedom. The light. And with those simple words, you had reduced all of his efforts—everything he’d done, everything he was doing for you—into nothing. The plushies, the grand mansion, the baby…none of it mattered. All you wanted was what he couldn’t give you.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he stood there, watching you curl in on yourself, your back turned to him. The silence that stretched between you now felt unbearable, suffocating.

But you didn’t turn around. You didn’t even look at him. All you did was sigh again, your fingers tracing the edge of the window, eyes lost in the dark, endless void outside.

Sylus’s frustration boiled over. He swallowed back the anger, trying to keep it under control, but your silence, your distance, was eating away at him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared at you, trying to understand why no matter what he did, it wasn’t enough.

"You’re not leaving, kitten," he said, his voice barely a whisper but filled with a dark edge. "No matter what you think Xavier will do. He’s not coming for you. He can’t take you away from me. This is real—our life, our baby."

The words hung heavy in the air, and he watched the way your body tensed at the mention of Xavier’s name. His heart twisted painfully as he saw the slight shudder in your shoulders, as though the mere mention of the man you still loved was enough to stir something inside you that Sylus could never touch.

“You need to let this go,” Sylus said, his voice low as he took another step closer, though you still didn’t turn to face him. “I’m giving you everything. I’m doing everything I can to make this work. You have to see that.”

But you didn’t respond. You didn’t argue. You didn’t fight.

You just stared out into the darkness, the silence between you louder than any words you could have spoken. He watched as tears streamed down your face but you didn't move to wipe them.

Sylus stood there, helpless in the face of your indifference, his heart breaking as he realized that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many plushies he bought or promises he made, you still longed for a world that he could never give you.

You missed the sun. And you missed...your star?

He didn't know what you meant by the star bit, but for the first time, Sylus felt a deep, painful fear that maybe, just maybe, he was losing you for good.

The nightmare crept in slowly, the kind that didn’t announce itself with a sudden jolt of fear but instead slithered into your subconscious, blending in with the shadows until you could no longer tell what was real. You found yourself in Reese’s basement again, the cold, sterile air clinging to your skin like an unwelcome presence. The sound of dripping water echoed faintly in the distance, but everything else was unnervingly quiet.

You were lying on an operating table, the cold metal pressing against your back, your body feeling oddly weightless and disconnected. Something was wrong. You tried to move, but your arms wouldn’t respond. Panic flickered inside you, but it hadn’t hit full force yet. Not until you glanced down.

That’s when you saw it.

Your stomach was open, your insides exposed like some grotesque science experiment. The slick, pale coils of your intestines lay outside your body, splayed out on the table in front of you like they didn’t belong to you. The sight was horrifying—your own organs, glistening under the harsh light, as though they were being examined like a specimen. Your breath caught in your throat, but when you tried to scream, nothing came out. Your mouth opened in a silent cry for help, but no sound escaped.

Fear surged through you like a flood, hot and overwhelming, and your mind screamed at your body to move, to do something, but you couldn’t. You were paralyzed, forced to watch the nightmare unfold.

And then you realized you weren’t alone.

There were faces above you, peering down at your exposed body with cold, clinical detachment. First, Reese, his twisted grin spread across his face, his eyes with sadistic glee. He was enjoying this, watching you writhe in silent horror, his hands clasped behind his back as if this was all just a game to him.

Next to him stood Xavier, his face blank, emotionless, as he stared at you. His sharp eyes were cold, distant, and yet they burned into you like a brand. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His presence alone was suffocating, a constant reminder of what you had lost, what he had failed to protect you from. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just watched as if you were nothing more than a subject under glass.

But it was Sylus who truly terrified you.

He was standing on the other side of the table, his eyes fixed on your exposed body with a look of satisfaction that made your skin crawl. There was something possessive in the way he stared at you, like you were his prized possession laid bare before him. His lips curled into a small, smug smile as he reached out to touch your stomach, his fingers brushing against the edges of your open flesh with a reverence that made bile rise in your throat.

“See, kitten,” Sylus said softly, his voice dripping with that familiar condescension. “This is your new reality. You can’t escape it.”

You tried to scream again, but it was useless. Your lungs felt heavy, your body weighed down by the paralyzing fear, as if the table itself was swallowing you whole. You could feel everything—the sharp, cold air on your exposed organs, the slow, methodical touch of Sylus’s hand, and the suffocating pressure of their gazes pressing down on you.

The room started spinning, the faces above you blurring into distorted shapes, and yet the horror of it all stayed sharp, the feeling of helplessness wrapping around you like chains. The metallic smell of blood filled your nostrils, thick and nauseating, and you could see the glint of surgical tools beside the table, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The instruments were stained with blood—your blood.

Reese’s grin widened as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your skin. “You never had a chance,” he whispered, his voice low and sickeningly sweet. “These organs are mine.”

Xavier’s eyes flicked to Sylus, and for a brief moment, you saw something in his expression—something dark, something possessive, like he, too, was staking his claim. You were torn between them, trapped on this table, your body no longer yours, and no matter how much you wanted to escape, no matter how much you screamed inside, you knew there was no way out.

You tried to move again, desperate to break free, but the more you struggled, the more the sensation of numbness took over. It was like your body was slipping away from you, being claimed piece by piece by the men who stood above you, watching with eerie fascination.

Finally, you broke through whatever invisible barrier was keeping you from talking.

"Xavier!!!" you screamed. "Do something! Save me...why won't you save me!"

But Xavier continued to say nothing, his gaze drifting back to you.

Then he too, smiled.

The room grew darker, the light flickering overhead, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. The faces loomed closer, suffocating you, crowding your vision until all you could see were their eyes—cold, calculating, and void of any humanity.

Cold water suddenly splashed down, over your face, filling your eyes, ears, mouth, and eventually your lungs. You tried to thrash your head but it was useless. You couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow. Your chest tightened harder and tighter.

And then, just as you felt your lungs were about to burst, as you felt your consciousness teetering on the edge, everything snapped.

You woke up with a violent gasp, your lungs burning as you struggled to pull in air. Instinctively, your hands flew to your abdomen, pressing down hard, as if you needed the physical reassurance that your insides weren’t spilling out. The nightmare’s vivid, grotesque images still clung to your mind, and for a moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your body was torn open, laid bare for all to see.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, but the curse did nothing to calm your racing heart. Your chest tightened as you looked down at your stomach, your fingers still gripping your skin, trembling. Slowly, your mind began to separate the dream from reality, but the aftershocks stayed with you. The blanket was tangled around your legs, trapping you in a cocoon of cold sweat. Each breath felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion that went far deeper than just a lack of sleep.

The nightmares—they were getting worse. More frequent, more real. Every time you closed your eyes, they dragged you back into that suffocating pit of fear, where the lines between what was real and what wasn’t blurred. You rubbed your face, but the sensation of dread clung to your skin, leaving you shaken.

You sat up slowly, your body feeling like lead as the gravity of the day hit you, sinking deep into the pit of your stomach like a stone. You turn and look at the calender.

Ultrasound day.

You groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, already feeling the weight of it suffocating you. Of course. How could you forget? Sylus hadn’t let you. He had been hovering over you for days, his voice a constant reminder, as though you could somehow slip away from this reality if he didn’t keep hammering it into you. Today was the day you’d finally see it—the thing inside you, the proof that this wasn’t just some horrific dream. Proof that your body no longer belonged to you, that you were no longer you but something else entirely—his vessel. A means to feed another.

Your gaze fell to the plushies now scattered around the bed. They were everywhere. Cute little creatures, soft and inviting, mocking the harsh gothic surroundings of the room. A crow, a tomato, a cactus, etc. The sight of them in this prison, this cavernous room with its dark walls and heavy, suffocating drapes, was almost laughable. Sylus had brought them to the bed one by one, carefully arranging them as if placing them around you could somehow undo the terror, the isolation, the chain that bound you.

He had looked so stupid, fumbling with the soft toys, his hands large and out of place as he’d set them down like they could bring you any comfort. You had watched him, detached, numb, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all. And yet, despite yourself, you had looked at them. You’d finally let him see you acknowledge them.

And they were cute. You hated to admit it, but they were. Out of place, for sure, in this massive room with its cold, black walls, heavy drapes, and gothic architecture. It was as if the plushies were mocking everything that had happened, like they didn’t belong in the hellhole you had been forced into. They were a small reminder of the world you used to live in, the one that now seemed so far out of reach.

Fuck this. A surge of bitterness swelled in your chest as you stared at the toys, their innocent faces staring back at you. Fuck this, fuck all of it. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that ultrasound, didn’t want to confront what was happening inside of you. Every fiber of your being wanted to reject it, to deny it, to pretend that maybe—just maybe—this was all some kind of twisted nightmare you would eventually wake up from. But deep down, you knew better. The changes in your body, the nausea, the constant exhaustion…it was real.

It was happening, whether you wanted it to or not.

Before you could sink any deeper into that pit of despair, the door creaked open, the sound making your heart clench with dread. Sylus stepped inside, and you could immediately feel the shift in the air. He always brought that tension with him, that mix of excitement and control that made your skin crawl.

He was trying to mask it, but you saw the gleam in his eyes, the barely-contained thrill in the way he moved. He was always like this when he thought he was getting closer to you—when he thought he was breaking through that wall you had desperately built around yourself.

“Good morning, honey,” he said, his voice soft but dripping with that condescension you had come to despise. He smiled at you, the curve of his lips too smug, too pleased, as if today was some joyous occasion. As if today wasn’t the day you’d be forced to confront the reality of your imprisonment in the most intimate way possible. “Are you ready for today?”

You didn’t answer him. You couldn’t. You felt the bile rising in your throat, that familiar wave of hatred bubbling up inside you, but you swallowed it back down, refusing to let him see how deeply this affected you. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. It wasn’t worth the energy anymore. You didn’t even have the words. All you could do was stare at him, your expression blank, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you, heavier than ever.

Sylus took a few steps closer, his eyes fixed on you, drinking you in like you were the only thing that mattered. That look—it was always the same. Intense. Possessive. Like you were something he had earned, something he was entitled to. It made your skin crawl.

“The doctor will be here soon,” he continued, his tone still maddeningly calm, as though this was just another day. But you could hear the underlying excitement, that barely restrained thrill in his voice. “I need you to behave, kitten. You don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be, do you?”

Behave. You almost laughed at the word, bitter and hollow. As if you had any other choice. As if the chain around your ankle weren’t already proof enough of who held the control here. You glanced down at the metal links, the cold bite of them a constant reminder of how little power you had left. You nodded once, not trusting yourself to speak, because what was the point? Arguing, resisting—it didn’t matter. It never did.

Sylus seemed satisfied with your response, his lips twitching in a small, pleased smile. His gaze swept over you, reading the submission in your posture, the way you sank deeper into yourself. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low, as if speaking to a pet. “Lie down. The doctor will need to get started as soon as he arrives.”

You moved mechanically, your body going through the motions as you lay back against the pillows, feeling a sick sort of detachment settle over you. It was like you weren’t even in your own body anymore, like you were just watching it all unfold from some distant place. The plushies surrounded you, their soft forms a cruel contrast to the cold reality of what was about to happen.

As you lay there, waiting for the inevitable, your thoughts swirled in a chaotic mess. How did I get here? The question echoed in your mind, over and over again, but there was no answer. No way to explain how your life had gone from days spent laughing with Xavier and Tara to this. To lying chained to a bed, waiting for a doctor to come and confirm that you were carrying the child of the man who had taken everything from you.

The thought made you want to disappear. To sink into the darkness outside the window and never wake up again. Anything to escape the suffocating weight pressing down on your chest, anything to stop the creeping dread that crawled beneath your skin.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and you clenched your fists at your sides, knowing that the moment was almost here.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. Your body tensed instinctively, bracing yourself for the cold, clinical presence you had come to expect from anyone in Sylus’s world. You clenched your fists, eyes darting to the door as the doctor entered, pushing in ultrasound equipment on wheels.

But the man who stepped into the room wasn’t what you anticipated. He was older, maybe in his fifties, his salt-and-pepper hair a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere. His presence wasn’t suffocating like Sylus’s. There was something warm in his expression, something…human. You weren’t used to that. It caught you off guard.

You're shocked Sylus was going to let a strange male touch you. You watched as the doctor shook Sylus's hand, a clear sign of trust and comradery.

Ah. Sylus knows him. Very well. This isn't just some random doctor. Explains a lot. You shiver as you think of what kind of crimes Sylus has probably paid this doctor to commit to let him in his home so willingly.

“Good morning,” he said gently, his voice calm and oddly comforting. He smiled softly as he set his equipment beside the bed. “I’m Dr. Merrill. I’m here to do your ultrasound today. I’ll explain everything as we go, alright?”

You blinked at him, unsure how to respond. The kindness in his voice felt foreign, almost out of place in this twisted nightmare you had been trapped in for what felt like an eternity. You nodded slowly, still suspicious but strangely relieved by the change in tone. His voice wasn’t cold or demanding. It wasn’t laced with the unspoken threat of power or control. It was just…soft. You hadn’t heard anyone speak to you like that in so long, you almost forgot what it felt like.

Sylus hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving you, watching every interaction like a hawk. But for once, he stayed silent, letting the doctor take over.

Dr. Merrill picked up a tube of gel, holding it up so you could see. “This is just a little gel for the ultrasound,” he explained, his voice steady and reassuring. “It’ll feel cold, but it helps get a clearer picture.”

You nodded again, still feeling numb but surprised at the way he took the time to explain everything. You hadn’t expected that. Not here. Not with Sylus looming like a vulture in the background, ready to pounce on any misstep. The doctor’s voice was like a small anchor in the storm, keeping you tethered to something that wasn’t pain or control. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Gently, Dr. Merrill lifted your nightgown, exposing your abdomen. The room felt colder, more invasive as the gel touched your skin. The chill sent a shiver through you, and you flinched at the sensation. The doctor glanced at you with a small, kind smile. “It’ll warm up in a moment,” he assured you. “You’re doing great.”

The words felt absurd. Doing great? In what world could you be “doing great”? You were lying there, chained, being forced to confront the reality of what was happening inside your body, a reality you had no control over. But his tone, the gentle way he spoke, almost made you believe him. Even if just for a second.

“Now, we’re going to take a look and see how everything is progressing,” he explained softly. “You’ll hear the baby’s heartbeat in a moment. That’s one of the few things we’ll check.”

Dr. Merrill picked up the ultrasound wand and placed it gently on your stomach, moving it slowly as he worked. “Now, let’s take a look,” he said softly. The room filled with the quiet hum of the machine, and you felt the weight of Sylus’s gaze on you, his anticipation palpable.

You kept your eyes glued to the ceiling, refusing to look at the screen, refusing to acknowledge what was happening. But the sound of Dr. Merrill’s voice, calm and steady, pulled you in despite yourself.

“There’s the head,” he said, pointing to the monitor. “See it here? The baby’s facing down.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight, but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the screen. There it was—the faint outline of a tiny head, blurred but unmistakable. Your chest tightened.

“And here are the feet, curled up just beneath the torso.” The doctor moved the wand slightly, pointing to the small image of the baby’s curled limbs. “Everything looks like it’s developing well for 7 weeks. Only one fetus as far as I can see.”

Great. At least the universe had been kind enough to only plant one baby instead of twins or worse...triplets.

Sylus leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on the screen, his excitement almost palpable now. You could feel the air shift with his intensity, like he was holding himself back from bursting with joy.

Dr. Merrill smiled softly, clearly pleased with the baby’s progress. “You can even see the spine here, along the back. It’s still early, but all the major parts are starting to form.”

The soft sound of a heartbeat began thudding in the background, steady and constant, echoing in the room like a reminder you couldn’t ignore. You felt it deep in your bones, the crushing weight of the reality you had been trying so hard to escape.

You started to dissociate. You blocked it out. But then he began to speak again.

“There it is,” Dr. Merrill said quietly, as though the sound was something sacred, something wonderful. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat. Strong and healthy.”

Your heart clenched at the word—baby. The nausea returned, and you turned your eyes to the ceiling, willing yourself not to look at the screen. Not to acknowledge what was happening. You could hear the faint sound of the machine, the steady hum of it filling the room, but all you wanted to do was disappear, to shrink into yourself and never face the truth that was about to unfold.

And then you heard it more clearly. The sound that punched through your mind and straight into your chest.

The heartbeat.

You closed your eyes, a lump forming in your throat, and tried to block it out again, but the sound echoed in your mind, growing louder, more real now. The heartbeat. The baby. Everything you had been dreading, everything you had hoped wasn’t real—it was there, pounding in your ears, confirming the horror of your situation.

Your body went cold, your muscles stiff as you lay there, paralyzed by the reality that you could no longer escape. It’s real. The baby is real and alive.

You didn’t want to feel it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it. But the heartbeat kept going, steady and relentless, anchoring you to this twisted new reality.

Dr. Merrill didn’t stop. His voice continued, gentle and patient, as if he didn’t notice the storm brewing inside you. The room felt smaller, the air heavier as Dr. Merrill continued speaking, explaining everything he was doing with a calmness that kept you grounded, even as you felt like you were falling apart inside.

You barely heard him. His words were distant, drowned out by the sound of the heartbeat and the weight of what was growing inside you. Your mind screamed for escape, but there was no way out. No way to undo what had already begun. You were trapped in your own body, and Sylus had made sure of that.

But Dr. Merrill’s calmness, his steady explanations, were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. His kindness, the small moments of humanity he offered, kept you grounded, even as the world around you shattered. He wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t indifferent. He treated you like you mattered, even though everything about your situation screamed that you didn’t.

Sylus, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the bed, his excitement palpable. His eyes were glued to the screen, as if the sight of the baby—the proof of what he had claimed—was the culmination of everything he had ever wanted. His hands twitched at his sides, and you could feel his unspoken desire to celebrate, to revel in this moment with you. To share in the twisted joy he felt.

But you couldn’t give him that. You couldn’t share in his excitement. You couldn’t even look at him.

Sylus finally broke the silence, his voice soft but laced with anticipation. “When will we know the gender?”

Dr. Merrill glanced at Sylus and then back to the screen. “Usually, we can determine the gender around eighteen to twenty weeks, but it can vary depending on how the baby is positioned.”

Sylus nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He turned to you, his expression filled with a strange mix of pride and emotion. “Soon, honey. Soon we’ll know.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The words were too heavy, too suffocating. You stared blankly at the ceiling, your chest tight as the sound of the heartbeat echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of what was happening inside of you.

Dr. Merrill continued with the ultrasound, checking the baby’s size and positioning. “Everything is progressing as it should,” he said gently. “The baby looks healthy, growing well, regular heartbeat.”

His voice was calm, reassuring. Your mind was spinning, the weight of it all pressing down on you. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything other than lie there and listen to the confirmation that you were carrying a child you didn't want, that your body was no longer your own.

Finally, the ultrasound was over. Dr. Merrill wiped the gel from your stomach and offered you another kind smile before turning to Sylus. “I recommend another ultrasound in a few monthsfor a progress check, to make sure baby has all its parts. It'll go just like this one did, very simple."

You looked away, your throat too tight to speak. You hated how his kindness made you feel. Hated how much you longed for more of it, how desperate you were for any scrap of humanity in this twisted, suffocating nightmare.

Dr. Merrill packed up his equipment and left the room, and with him, the brief moment of peace shattered. Sylus remained, his eyes still gleaming with excitement, his voice a soft whisper as he moved closer to the bed.

“Did you hear that, sweetie?” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “That’s our baby. Alive. Real.”

The words felt like a punch to the stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t respond. You didn’t want to. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything press down on you like a suffocating blanket. The sound of the heartbeat still echoed in your ears, relentless and haunting, a reminder that you were no longer just yourself. You were carrying his child, and there was no escape.

“I want to go home,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the pain in it was unmistakable. Tears streamed down your face and the room became a blur, temporarily blocking Sylus out of your vision before you wiped your eyes.

Sylus’s face faltered, the joy in his eyes dimming for just a moment, but he quickly masked it. You saw the crack in his excitement, but you didn’t care.

“You are home sweetie. This has been your home before you or I ever realized it.”

You turned away from him, silently, your eyes drifting to the window, staring into the endless darkness of the N109 Zone. You wished for the sun, for the light, for anything that could take you away from this nightmare.

But the darkness was all that remained.

Dinner was quiet, a heavy silence draped over the table like a suffocating blanket. The dim glow of the candles cast flickering shadows across the room, but the atmosphere was anything but warm. You sat across from Sylus, barely able to meet his gaze, your fork trembling as you forced down small bites of steak. The nausea had come and gone since the ultrasound, but it wasn’t the sickness that was making your stomach churn now—it was the overwhelming sense of dread that seemed to settle over every moment you spent in this house.

Sylus sat across from you, watching you carefully as he always did, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name. You didn’t want to look at him. Couldn’t bring yourself to. But you felt his gaze lingering on you, waiting for something. For what, you didn’t know. You didn’t care.

Your chest tightened as you tried to swallow another bite of food, but the lump in your throat made it nearly impossible. Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You were tired—so damn tired of crying. Tired of feeling like you were suffocating, trapped in a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. But no matter how hard you tried to hold them back, the tears slid down your cheeks, silent and betraying.

Sylus noticed, of course. He always noticed.

He reached across the table, his hand gentle as it brushed against your cheek to wipe the tears away. His touch, though cold, felt like fire against your skin, and instinctively, you flinched away from him, pulling back as though his fingers had burned you.

His hand hovered in the air for a moment, the gesture frozen, before he slowly pulled it back. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

The silence stretched on, thicker now, until finally, he spoke.

“I know this is hard for you,” Sylus began, his voice quieter than you expected, softer. “But do you really plan to just avoid me the whole time? I’m the father of the baby, honey. You should at least try and talk to me about how you’re feeling. You aren't alone in all this.”

You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles losing blood, your nails digging into the wood as his words washed over you. The anger simmered just beneath the surface, a slow boil that had been building for weeks now, ever since that horrible day when he had brought you here. Your head was a storm of conflicting emotions—rage, sorrow, fear—and the more he spoke, the more the fury bubbled up inside you.

“I…” Your voice trembled as you tried to find the words, your chest tight with the weight of it all. “You…you weren’t supposed to be the father of my baby, Sylus.”

The words hung in the air between you, cold and sharp, and when you finally forced yourself to look up at him, you saw the devastation flicker across his face. For a brief moment, he looked lost, hurt. His expression softened, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something to hold onto.

“Is it the pregnancy making you feel this way,” Sylus asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “or is it me?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The truth was, it was both. The pregnancy had turned your world upside down, trapping you in a nightmare you couldn’t escape. But Sylus—Sylus had taken everything from you. The life you’d known. The love you’d felt. He had stolen it all, and now, he was asking you to feel something for him, to open up to him like it hadn’t been him who destroyed you in the first place.

The silence between you felt like a chasm, growing wider and deeper with each passing second.

He reached for your hand, gently cradling it in his own as he leaned forward. His touch was cautious, careful, as if he were afraid you might pull away again. “What can I do?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’d do anything to prove to you that I can be a good dad. A good man to you. You just have to let me, sweetie. I have money, I have houses…anything you want.”

His words twisted in your chest, making it harder to breathe. He was offering you everything except the one thing you truly wanted: freedom. The freedom to choose your own life, your own path. And now, sitting here, chained to a future you never asked for, with a child you never wanted, the weight of it all finally broke you.

Tears spilled over, uncontrollable now, as you wrenched your hand away from his, your voice trembling with anger and pain.

“I don’t want your money!” you screamed, the sound raw and broken. “And I sure as hell don’t want your baby!”

Sylus flinched at your words, his face crumpling in hurt, but you didn’t care. The anger surged inside you like a tidal wave, crashing against everything you’d been holding back for weeks. It all came pouring out, too fast, too much, but you couldn’t stop.

“You’ve trapped me here, Sylus!” you cried, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’ve taken everything from me! My life, my freedom, my choices…I never wanted this! I never wanted you!”

Your hands shook as you wiped at your tears, but they kept coming, relentless, like a dam had burst inside of you. “I have nightmares every night, Sylus. Every single night, I’m back in that basement. It feels like I never left. I see Reese. I see you. And now…now I’m carrying this…this thing inside me, and it feels like a monster. Another monster trapping me! I feel like I’m losing myself more and more every day, and I can’t take it anymore.”

Your voice broke on the last words, your breath coming in ragged sobs. The weight of everything you’d been holding in finally crashed down on you, suffocating you in its grip. You pressed your hands to your face, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs, but they tore through you, leaving you shaking, fragile.

For the first time in weeks, you let yourself fall apart.

Sylus watched you, his expression stricken, his hands hovering near you but not daring to touch. His face was a mixture of pain and guilt, his eyes wide as if he didn’t know what to do, how to fix this. He had always been in control, always sure of himself. But now, in the face of your despair, he looked lost.

“Sweetie…” he whispered, his voice soft, pleading. “Please, let me help. I never wanted to hurt you.”

But his words felt hollow, empty. There was no fixing this. Not with money. Not with promises. Nothing could undo the damage that had been done.

“I don’t want your help,” you said through your tears, your voice barely audible. “I just want my life back.”

And for a long moment, the two of you sat there, the silence between you stretching into something neither of you could escape. The weight of your broken world pressed down, and the distance between you, though only a few feet, felt like an ocean.

Sylus reached for your hand again, slower this time, hesitant, as though he knew you might pull away. His cold fingers brushed against your skin, and even though you wanted to recoil, you didn’t have the energy to fight anymore.

“I’ll find a way,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll find a way to make this better. I promise.”

But even as he said the words, your heart twisted and your eyes filled with more tears.

Some things could never be made right.

The room felt like it was closing in on you, every breath harder to take as your sobs wracked through your body. You wanted to scream, to run, to make it all stop. But here you were—trapped, chained to a reality you never chose, forced into a life you never wanted. And Sylus, with all his soft words and empty promises, sat across from you, looking at you with eyes that made you want to tear the world apart.

His touch was still on your skin, his fingers cold, tentative, like he didn’t know how to reach you anymore. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he never had.

“I’ll find a way,” he whispered again, like it was some kind of lifeline, something he could grasp onto to pull you out of the darkness. His voice cracked, filled with an emotion you’d never heard from him before. “I’ll make this better. I’ll fix it, sweetie. I’ll do anything.”

The weight of his words only fueled the fire burning in your chest. How could he possibly think he could fix this? How could he believe that he could make this nightmare go away with his empty offers and twisted affection?

You snapped.

“You can’t!!” you screamed, the words ripping from your throat, sharp and raw. Your whole body trembled with the force of your anger, your hands shaking as you clenched them into fists. “You can’t make this right, Sylus! Don’t you get that?!”

His face twisted, the hurt clear on his face, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. The dam had broken, and all the pain, all the rage, was flooding out.

“How could you ever make this right?” you shouted, your voice cracking as your tears blurred your vision. “You’ve raped me! I am trapped here, with you, carrying a child—your child—and you think you can fix it? Are you stupid?”

You pushed the chair back so violently it toppled over, but you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was getting the words out—every awful, gut-wrenching truth you’d held in for so long.

“I hate my life!” you cried, the words bitter and hot on your tongue. “I hate this baby! And most of all… I hate you!”

Sylus’s face crumpled, the hurt in his eyes so deep, so raw, that it would have shattered you if you weren’t already so far gone. His hands, once so confident and controlling, hovered in the air, unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to reach for you or let you be. You could see the way his throat worked as he tried to speak, the words catching somewhere between shock and devastation.

The silence between you was deafening, thick with the weight of your confession. You could feel the cracks in his carefully constructed façade, the way your words cut through him like a knife. But you didn’t feel sorry. You couldn’t. Not anymore.

You expected his usual taunts. You had said similar things to him before and he had just brushed them off. But now, he was listening. And it was very clear he believed you.

Sylus’s voice, when it finally came, was barely above a whisper. “You really hate me?”

There was something so broken in the way he said it, like he couldn’t quite believe the words. Like he hadn’t already known how much you despised him. His face, usually so composed, so sure, was now painted with a pain that almost mirrored your own.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your vision swimming with tears, and for a moment, you didn’t know if you could stand anymore. You were so tired—so incredibly tired of fighting, of feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of everything that had happened.

But you weren’t done. Not yet.

“I hate everything about this,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying, your throat raw. “I hate that you’ve made me into someone I don’t even recognize. And I hate that you think you can just…fix it. Like I'm just some toy you accidently dropped.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you saw something that almost broke you. Sylus, this man who had taken so much from you, who had been the source of so much of your pain, looked shattered. He was still, his face drawn, his eyes wide and filled with something you didn’t want to see—vulnerability.

“I’m trying,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to make this work. I love you. I love our baby. I just…I don’t know what else to do.”

His words hit you like a blow, but instead of softening, they only made you more confused. How could he say that? How could he stand there, acting like he hadn’t ripped apart your entire world, acting like love could somehow make this okay?

“You don’t get it, do you?” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I don’t want your love. I don’t want this baby. You’ve destroyed everything I ever cared about. I can’t love you. I can’t love this…this monster growing inside me.”

Sylus flinched at the word monster, his expression tightening as if you had slapped him. His hands, which had been hovering near you, fell to his sides, limp and defeated.

For a moment, the two of you just remained there, the space between you impossibly wide. Your chest heaved with the weight of everything you had just said, the truth burning in your throat.

Sylus’s face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed as if he were holding back tears of his own. If you hadn't known any better you would've thought he was about to cry. You’d never seen him like this—never seen him so…broken. It should have made you feel better. It should have given you some sense of satisfaction to see him suffer the way you had. But all it did was leave you feeling hollow, empty.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

Sylus stood there, his chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. You could see the way your words had broken something in him, the raw vulnerability in his eyes, but he didn’t back down. Not yet. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he wanted to reach for you, to pull you close, but he seemed to know better now. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"Your old life was killing you,” Sylus said, his voice soft but edged with frustration. "You were overworked, exhausted, running on fumes. You barely had time for yourself. You were drowning, and I saved you from that. You don’t see it now, but I gave you a way out."

You felt the familiar surge of anger swell in your chest, hotter and fiercer than before. His words felt like a slap in the face, as if he was dismissing everything you had worked for, everything you had built in your life—no matter how hard it had been. He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. And the fact that he thought he had "saved" you only made it worse.

"Saved me?" you spat, your voice rising with disbelief. "You think you saved me? Sylus, I wasn’t asking to be saved! I didn’t need you to swoop in and decide that my life wasn’t good enough for me. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine!"

He froze, his expression tightening, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

"Yeah, I was tired. Yeah, I was overworked sometimes," you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "But I chose that life. The life of a hunter. I chose to work hard. I chose to push myself because it was my life. I could decide if I wanted to be exhausted or not. I could decide if I wanted to keep going or take a break."

"You took that away from me."

Sylus shook his head, a deep crease forming between his brows. "You’re not seeing it clearly. You were on the edge, about to burn out completely. I just...I gave you a way out. Somewhere you didn’t have to fight so hard all the time."

"Well, it wasn’t your decision to make!" you yelled, your voice breaking as the tears welled up again. "It was my life! My choice! Maybe I would have burned out, maybe I would have fallen apart, but it would have been my choice to do that! And for the record, I am fighting here. Every single day I have to fight the urge to slam my head into the wall until I pass out and die!"

Sylus’s face twisted with something between guilt and frustration, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I’m trying to give you something better," he insisted, his voice thick with emotion. "A life where you don’t have to struggle every day. A life where you’re cared for, where you don’t have to worry about anything."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and hollow in the tense silence between you.

"I don’t want that life, Sylus," you said, your voice soft but laced with anger. "I want my own life. The one where I get to make decisions for myself. Even if it’s messy and exhausting."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Sylus stared at you, his eyes wide, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something—anything—to convince you that he was right. But you could see the cracks in his resolve, the way his shoulders slumped just a little, the way his gaze flickered with something close to defeat.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just stood there, his chest heaving with the weight of everything unspoken between you.

Then, finally, his voice came, soft and tender.

"Why can't you see that this is better for you?," he whispered, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn’t give him. "Your safe here, with me. You saw what happened to you when you ran. Can't you understand?"

You shook your head, your throat tight with the tears you were fighting back from spilling any further. Why were you crying so much? Stop crying in front of this asshole.

"You can’t decide what’s better for me," you said quietly. "That’s not love, Sylus. That’s control."

And with those words, the last bit of fight seemed to drain from him. He stood there, silent and still, as if he didn’t know what to do, as if he were finally realizing the depth of what he had done. You watched as his face let go of all the frustration, and he turned to you.

You braced yourself for the usual. Sylus was nothing if not predictable in the way he handled your anger. You expected the chuckle, the smirk that would twist his lips as he dismissed your emotions, reducing them to a symptom of your hormones. He’d likely pull you into his lap, force you to melt into him until your tears spilled out, and he’d whisper something charming or infuriating, depending on his mood. That was Sylus—always in control, always one step ahead of your emotions, bending them to suit his will.

But this time, there was no chuckle. No smirk.

Instead, he stood up from his chair, pushing it back gently, and then…he knelt.

He knelt in front of you, and it took a moment for your brain to process what was happening. Sylus had never knelt before you, never shown this kind of vulnerability. It was always you looking up at him, feeling the weight of his presence, the force of his control pressing down on you. But now, for the first time, you were looking down at him.

It was jarring, seeing him like this. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. You wanted to pull away, to retreat into the safety of your anger, but something in the way he looked at you kept you rooted to the spot.

He reached for your hand, his fingers cool against your skin as he took it gently in his. You stared at him, waiting for the shift, waiting for him to pull you into his world of manipulation again. But instead, he sighed softly, and you watched, stunned, as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it with a tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I’ve…lost people before," he began, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, filled with something raw, something you weren’t sure you wanted to confront. "People I cared about. People that…didn’t even care about me. And yet, it still hurt."

His words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. You blinked, unable to tear your gaze away from him. This wasn’t the Sylus you knew. This wasn’t the man who had taken you, who had controlled and manipulated every part of your life since that fateful day you had arrived here. This was someone else—someone who, for a brief moment, seemed…vulnerable.

"I don’t want to live through that again," he continued, his voice steady, though you could hear the pain beneath it. "I don’t want to lose you. I want to give you everything I have. Everything I own. My body, my soul—it’s all yours."

His words struck you like a blow, leaving you reeling. You wanted to pull away, to scream at him for saying such things after everything he’d done. But something about the way he spoke, the way his eyes searched yours, made you stay.

"No," Sylus said, his gaze softening as he looked at you, his hand still holding yours. "You don’t belong to me. At least…not your heart. I know this. I’ve known it for a long time. But I’m hoping…one day, you’ll see me and…not see a monster."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Sylus—the man who had torn your life apart, who had taken you from everything you knew—was kneeling before you, admitting to his flaws, his mistakes. The tenderness in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you hated how it made your heart clench, how it made you feel something you didn’t want to feel.

"I am far from perfect," he continued, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I know I’ve made my mistakes. I know I’ve hurt you in ways that…can’t be undone. But even if I’m forever chasing your love, I’ll never regret bringing you here the way I did. It was the only way I could ensure your life with me was safe."

Your mind was spinning, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words. How could he say that? How could he sit there, offering you everything, knowing that he had destroyed everything you once were?

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You were too stunned, too overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his eyes. This wasn’t the cold, calculating man you had come to know. This was someone who, in his own twisted way, genuinely believed that he was protecting you, that he was giving you something better.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Sylus shifted. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat as he opened it, revealing an intricately designed ring. It was striking, a silver band with a dark, rectangular gemstone at its center, surrounded by an elegant vine-like pattern that twisted and intertwined along the sides. Small black stones glimmered against the metal, adding depth to its gothic beauty.

Your breath caught as he took your hand again, his fingers trembling slightly as he held it. The ring was heavy with meaning, and as he slid it onto your finger, the cool silver touching your skin, you felt a strange, sinking sensation in your chest. It was beautiful, but there was something in the weight of it, in the way it encircled your finger, that stirred a mix of emotions—both a mix of confusion and adrenaline.

It fit perfectly. Of course it did.

Sylus knew everything about you—every detail, every aspect of your body. He had studied you, watched you, learned every inch of who you were. This was just another reminder of how deep his control went, how he knew you better than you wanted to admit.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something so raw, so earnest, it made your throat tighten.

"Will you be my wife?," he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion. "Marry me, have my baby. And everything is yours. Everything I have, every part of me. My money, my soul, my heart—it’s all yours."

You stared at him, your mind racing, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of the ring on your finger felt suffocating, but the look in his eyes, the way he knelt before you with such open vulnerability, made it impossible to tear yourself away.

You wanted to scream, to tear the ring off and throw it back at him. You wanted to tell him that none of this mattered—that no amount of money, no promises of devotion, could ever erase what he had done to you. To scream about the audacity to ask you to marry him after everything. But the words wouldn’t come. You were frozen, trapped between the anger boiling in your chest and the strange, unwelcome tenderness in his eyes.

For a moment, the two of you sat there, the space between you filled with unspoken emotions. Sylus’s hand lingered on yours, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles as if he were trying to convey everything he couldn’t say aloud.

"I’ll give you the world, sweetie," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a plea. "You just have to let me."

And for the first time, you didn’t know what to say.

The ring on your finger felt like another chain, binding you to him in ways you never wanted. But the way he looked at you, the way his eyes pleaded for something more—it made the anger inside you waver, just for a moment.

You stared at Sylus, feeling the air shift between you. For a moment, all you could focus on was the absurdity of what was happening. The man who had turned your life upside down was kneeling in front of you, asking you to marry him. But as the seconds ticked by, the weight of it all began to settle in. The small smile on his face grew as you realized something startling.

He wasn’t joking.

Sylus was serious.

This wasn’t some game, some twisted manipulation to push you further into his control—this was real. He was genuinely offering you a choice. A small one, sure. But a choice nonetheless. The ring on your finger, the sincerity in his eyes—it wasn’t just another part of his plan. He was giving you an opening, a crack in the armor you hadn’t expected to find.

You blinked, your heart racing as the realization hit you. Can I use this?

Your mind began to spin, ideas and possibilities swirling around you. If Sylus really wanted this—if he genuinely wanted you to be with him, to be his wife—then maybe…maybe you could use it to your advantage. Maybe, if you played your cards right, you could turn the tables on him.

Could you pretend? Could you manipulate him, make him believe you were coming around, that you were falling for him? If you played the role well enough, if you made him trust you, maybe you could get closer to freedom. Maybe you could finally escape this nightmare.

Your breath hitched at the thought. The idea of pretending to love him, to be anything but what you truly felt, made your stomach churn. But if it was your only way out, if it meant getting closer to freedom—could you do it?

You studied him for a moment, weighing your options. He wasn’t manipulating you in the way you’d come to expect. He was pushing you to a certain answer, yes, but the sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. For all his control, for all the power he held, he was offering you something—something you could use. The idea sent a small spark of hope through you, a glimmer of possibility in the otherwise suffocating darkness.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, watching you closely, clearly waiting for your response. He was confident, but not in the way that made you feel trapped. He was giving you the space to think, to decide. His face was calm, but there was an anxious look twinkling in his eyes.

It was your move.

“If I say yes…” you began slowly, your voice steady but laced with challenge, “can I start coming outside of this room?”

Sylus blinked, and for the briefest moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes—surprise. He hadn’t expected that. You’d managed to throw him off, if only for a heartbeat. But as quickly as the moment came, it was gone, replaced by the familiar, teasing grin that always made your blood simmer. Only this time, there was something different—less control, more excitement.

“You want to bargain, hm?” His voice was warm, the amusement still there, but it wasn’t manipulative. It was almost…tender, as if he found your attempt at negotiating endearing rather than frustrating.

“How cute.”

Before you could respond, he moved. Standing up, Sylus rose from his kneeling position, his full height looming over you. The sudden shift in power was palpable, and despite the defiance thrumming in your veins, you couldn’t help but feel the space between you shrink, the air thickening with tension.

Sylus took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, but there was no smugness in his expression now. Just a quiet intensity, a soft eagerness that made you realize—he was serious. He wanted this. The idea of you saying yes was something he genuinely wanted, not just some ploy for control. His playful teasing melted away into something deeper, something more real.

“You can only come out when I’m around,” he said softly, his tone gentle but firm. “And when you’re in here, you’ll still wear the chain. I have to protect you, sweetie. But...”

He trailed off, watching your face carefully, waiting for you to absorb his words. Then, he leaned down slightly, bringing himself closer to your level, his eyes never leaving yours. His smile softened, tender now, his excitement barely contained. “But if you accept my proposal, I’ll agree to your terms. You’ll get what you want. You’ll come out of this room more often. I’ll give you that freedom, bit by bit.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. This wasn’t a calculated move on his part—there was no hidden agenda in his eyes, no manipulation lurking in the depths of his voice. He genuinely believed he was offering you something. He believed that this was a fair deal.

He wasn’t just teasing you. He was hopeful. Sylus was hoping you’d say yes, hoping that this—the two of you—could work. The thought was startling. You could use this. He wanted your agreement so badly he was willing to bend. If you played this right, if you acted like you were coming around, you could manipulate him. Slowly. Carefully. Get his guard down, map out the house, and then...escape.

The realization made your pulse quicken, but you kept your face neutral. You couldn’t let him see that flicker of hope now burning inside you. You couldn’t show him your hand.

Sylus, seemingly oblivious to your internal struggle, took another small step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, intimate and sincere. “So, what’ll it be, sweetheart?” His tone was soft, coaxing, but filled with anticipation. “I’ll keep my end of the deal. I’ll give you a little more freedom. You just have to say yes.”

The ring on your finger felt impossibly heavy, the symbol of everything you stood to lose...and maybe, everything you stood to gain. The idea of agreeing to marry him made you feel sick, but the thought of staying locked in this room, with no way out, was worse. If you could use this—if you could pretend to love him, make him believe it—then maybe you could finally have a chance at freedom.

Your throat felt tight, and for a moment, you weren’t sure you could speak. But then, with your heart pounding in your chest, you swallowed your fear.

“I’ll say yes,” you whispered, your voice calm, though your insides were trembling.

Sylus blinked, and for a split second, you saw raw, unfiltered joy flicker across his face. His eyes softened, lighting up with a tender excitement that caught you off guard. He didn’t say anything, didn’t gloat or smirk. Instead, he reached for your hand, his touch gentle as he pulled you just a little closer.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

For a moment, you were frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from him. His tenderness—the way he looked at you—was almost overwhelming. You hadn’t expected this. You’d expected him to gloat, to make some smug comment, but instead, he seemed genuinely... happy.

His fingers lingered on yours, as if he didn’t want to let go, and you could feel the weight of his emotions pressing down on you. This wasn’t a game for him.

And that made your next move all the more dangerous.

“I’m serious, Sylus,” you said softly, pulling your hand away slowly but not forcefully, letting him see your resolve. “If I agree to this, I need to know you’ll give me more. I can’t live like this forever. I need more freedom.”

He watched you carefully, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you thought he might push back. But then, he nodded, his lips pulling into a small, sincere smile.

“I’ll give you what you need, sweetie,” he promised, his voice low and warm. “Your pregnant after all, you can't raise a baby in one room.”

You forced yourself to smile, knowing that this was anything but a cheerful moment for you. But for now, you had to play the part.

You could feel his anticipation thick in the air, almost tangible, his dark eyes locked onto you with that infuriating mix of tenderness and excitement. But you weren’t done yet. No, this was your chance. If you were going to manipulate him, it had to be flawless, it had to be convincing. You had to make him believe that this was real.

"Come closer," you whispered, your voice deliberately softer, almost seductive, as you tilted your head and looked up at him through your lashes. It was an invitation, your eyes pulling him in, baiting him, while you leaned slightly forward.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, the intrigue clear in his expression. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of suspicion in his gaze, as though he were weighing your sudden change in demeanor. Could he sense something? Was he catching on? But then the wariness melted away, replaced by a look of quiet excitement, his features softening. He moved even closer, his posture relaxing as he leaned toward you.

This was the moment. The moment to pull him deeper into the illusion, to make him believe he was winning.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss. His lips were warm against yours, but he didn’t respond immediately. His body stiffened, and in that split second of hesitation, panic surged through you. Had you pushed too far? Did he know you were playing him?

The silence stretched unbearably, the seconds dragging out as fear twisted in your stomach. But then, just as quickly, Sylus seemed to relax, and he kissed you back. The tension drained from his body, and you could feel the relief ripple through him. He believed you.

His lips moved softly against yours, and you realized with growing unease that he was good at this—too good. His hands slid to the sides of your waist, gentle but deliberate, his fingers making their under your nightgown as the kiss continued, in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, and to your horror, you found yourself leaning into him, your body betraying you with a response that wasn’t part of the plan.

This was supposed to be a game—a trick to manipulate him into letting his guard down. But instead, you were getting lost in it. You could feel the kiss deepening, growing more intense, and Sylus was taking his time, savoring it. His lips moved with a kind of hunger that caught you off guard, and his hands, now wandering higher under your nightgown, made your breath catch. A small gasp leaves your lips as he manages to slip his tongue into your mouth, beginning a slippery and lustful dance with your own tongue. A wave of panic hit you as you realized your resolve was slipping. No. This isn't how it was supposed to go.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you forced yourself to pull back, breaking the kiss abruptly. Sylus blinked, his face twisting with surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to react or ask questions. A mixture of two of yall's saliva slid down your chin and you wiped it. You needed to get out of there before you lost control completely.

“I—" you stammered, quickly placing a hand over your stomach, hoping the gesture looked convincing. “I feel like I’m going to throw up dinner.”

The words tumbled out hurriedly, and you could hear the desperation in your own voice, but it didn’t matter as long as Sylus believed it. You watched as his expression immediately shifted, the concern in his eyes growing as he laid a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

You nodded, your pulse racing, already halfway to the bathroom. “Yes, I just—I need a minute.” You didn’t wait for his response, rushing toward the bathroom as if you couldn’t get away fast enough. You rushed through the entrance, leaning against the wall for a moment, trying to steady your breathing.

The adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, your mind spinning from what had just happened. You barely had time to process it as you quickly knelt in front of the toilet, forcing yourself to make exaggerated retching noises loud enough for him to hear. Your heart was still racing, your lips still tingling from the kiss. You needed to calm down, to think.

“Sweetie? Do you need anything?” Sylus called from the other side of the wall, his concern cutting through the noise in your head. “I’ll see if I can get something for the nausea that’s safe for the baby.”

You leaned over the toilet, trying to mask your deep breaths. “I’ll be fine!” you called out, making sure your voice sounded weak, vulnerable. You forced another fake gag. “I just need a minute.”

You held your breath, waiting to see if he’d come to check on you. Your heart pounded in your ears, half expecting him to walk in, but then you heard the sound of his footsteps retreating. You were alone. Finally.

A slow, genuine smile crept across your face, something dark and satisfying twisting inside you. The kiss had thrown you off, but in the end, it didn’t matter. The plan was still intact. Sylus was buying every second of it, and he had no idea what was coming next.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt powerful again. You had him wrapped around your finger, and he didn’t even know it.

“My turn now, Sylus.” you whispered to yourself, the smile widening as you stared down at the toilet, your heart still racing with the adrenaline of what you’d just done.

Because now? Now you were the one in control.

And Sylus had no idea the storm that was about to descend on him.

Xavier stood at the edge of the city, his hands resting on the cold metal railing of the balcony outside of the Hunter's Association, his eyes fixed on the distant skyline. Linkon looked the same as it always had—its towering buildings and busy streets alive with movement—but to Xavier, the city felt hollow. It was as if everything had lost its meaning the moment you were taken. Nothing seemed real anymore. Not since that day.

His jaw clenched as he stared down at the street below, where people moved about, oblivious to the war that raged inside him. The lie he had been forced to tell weighed heavily on his chest, suffocating him. It gnawed at his conscience, at the very core of who he was.

He had told everyone you were gone. That you had escaped the country, far from reach, that you were safe. He had even given them details—fabricated images of a life where you were living free and happy from the shackles of life. It was all a lie. A lie Sylus had demanded he spread to protect you.

But the truth…the truth burned inside him every second of every day.

You hadn’t just left. You weren’t safe. You were still out there, trapped in Sylus’s grasp, and there wasn’t a damn thing Xavier could do about it. Not without risking your life.

“Fuck.” The word escaped his lips in a low, frustrated growl as he ran a hand through his hair. He had been searching for months, chasing every lead, every whisper that might bring him closer to finding you. All of that work, just to be stopped dead in his tracks by Sylus's threats. Sylus had buried you deep. And with every day that passed, Xavier felt you slipping further away.

The memory of the last message still haunted him—Sylus’s threat, calm and chilling.

"You're going to tell your captain that you saw and talked to your… partner. That she is fine and just felt trapped with work, so she fled to another country. After that, get rid of the SIM card. I will know if you don't. Don't test me."

It had been a warning, clear and direct. A warning Xavier had no choice but to obey. Because as much as he wanted to tear the world apart to find you, to rip Sylus apart piece by piece for what he had done, he couldn’t. Not without endangering your life. And that was something he couldn’t live with.

So he had lied. To Tara, to the captain, to everyone that was worried. They had believed him. Captain Jenna had even told him to pass on the message that you were relieved of your duties. They thought you were free, safe, living a life far away from all of this madness.

It had been weeks now. Weeks of living this lie. Of watching the world go on without you, of everyone around him moving forward, believing the false reality he had constructed. But every day without you felt like another day lost, another day stolen by Sylus. The job continued. His life went on.

But you weren’t there.

And without you, nothing mattered.

Behind him, the door to the balcony creaked open, and Xavier tensed. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Tara. She had been hovering around him for days, concerned but respectful of his space. She didn’t understand—how could she? To her, it looked like you had simply left him, like you had chosen to walk away from everything the two of you had built. To her, it looked like he was mourning the loss of you, mourning the heartbreak of being left behind.

He wasn’t mourning your absence.

He was mourning the fact that he couldn’t save you.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Tara said softly, her footsteps light as she approached. Her voice held that same gentle concern it always did, but today, it made Xavier’s chest ache even more. “I know this has been…hard for you.”

Tara came to stand beside him, leaning her arms on the railing, her gaze sweeping over the city, brown hair swaying in the wind. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the cold wind swirling between them. The air felt heavy, thick with the things they weren’t saying.

Xavier swallowed, his throat tight, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wanted to respond, to say something, but how could he explain any of this to her? She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Sylus had made sure of that. He wasn’t just protecting you with the lie—he was protecting Tara and everyone else from Sylus’s reach.

Tara sighed, turning her gaze to him. “I miss her too, you know,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “I thought the two of you were going to make it through anything. And then…she just left. Won't answer my calls or texts either.”

Xavier’s jaw clenched as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t let anyone know that you hadn’t left by choice—that you hadn’t ran—but had been taken. He couldn’t risk Sylus finding out. Not when your life hung in the balance.

“I know,” he muttered finally, his voice rough. It was the only thing he could manage without completely falling apart. He couldn’t lie any more than that right now, not without losing control.

Tara’s eyes softened, her voice gentle. “I still can’t believe she just left like that though. It doesn’t make any sense. She was so in love with you, Xavier. She was my best friend. I mean, maybe…” She hesitated, her brow furrowing in thought. “Maybe one day she’ll come back. People change, you know? Maybe she just needed space.”

Xavier wanted to scream. The idea that you had “just needed space” was so far from the truth it was almost laughable. But he couldn’t correct her. He couldn’t say anything. All he could do was let Tara believe the story he had been forced to tell—the story that you had left, had chosen to disappear from his life, leaving him brokenhearted and searching for closure.

He hated it. Every single second of it.

He turned to face her, trying to hide the rage bubbling beneath the surface. “I hope so,” he said, the words bitter in his mouth. He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t let himself believe anything other than the truth. The truth was that you were still out there, trapped in Sylus’s grasp, and every day that passed was another day you were suffering, another day he wasn’t there to save you.

Tara studied him, her expression soft with sympathy. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” she asked quietly.

Loved. The word twisted like a knife in his chest. He loved you—more than anything. More than anyone could ever know. And yet, here he was, lying to everyone about where you were, letting them believe you were gone. It felt like a betrayal to everything the two of you had shared.

He nodded, but the movement felt hollow, empty. “I still do,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I just wish I understood why,” Tara continued, her gaze drifting back to the city below. “Why she would leave like that. Why she didn’t tell anyone. Maybe…maybe it wasn’t just about you. Maybe she was going through something we didn’t know about.”

Xavier’s stomach twisted, guilt and frustration gnawing at him. You were going through something, but not in the way Tara imagined. You were going through hell—real hell—and no one could save you because they didn’t even know. No one, not even Tara, could see past the lie Sylus had crafted. The thought of how trapped you must feel, how alone, was unbearable.

He turned his back to the railing, staring at the ground as he wrestled with the fury building inside him. “Maybe,” he muttered, unable to say more. The truth was there, threatening to spill out, but he couldn’t afford to let it. Not when Sylus was probably watching.

Tara sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “I guess all we can do is wait. Maybe one day, she’ll pop up!"

Xavier felt like his chest was caving in. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to scream at the absurdity of it all. You weren’t coming back because you hadn’t left in the first place. You hadn’t abandoned him. You hadn’t chosen this. You were a prisoner, and there was nothing he could do to bring you back—nothing without risking your life.

He looked at Tara, forcing a tight smile, though every part of him felt like it was crumbling.

“Yeah….”

The silence stretched between them again, and Xavier felt the weight of it pressing down on him, the burden of carrying this lie suffocating him. How long could he keep this up? How long before he slipped, before someone started asking the wrong questions?

And how long before Sylus pushed him past the point of no return?

Tara gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “I know you’ll be okay. You’re strong, Xavier. Stronger than most people. Just…don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”

Xavier nodded, not trusting himself to speak again. He didn’t feel strong. He felt like he was falling apart, piece by piece. The only thing keeping him together was the burning rage that refused to die—the rage that promised he’d find you, no matter what it took.

“I’ll be fine,” he lied, his voice quiet but strained. “Thanks, Tara.”

Tara gave him one last look before nodding and heading back inside, leaving Xavier alone with the howling wind and his shattered thoughts. He leaned against the railing, staring into the distance, his mind racing.

The weight of the lie pressed down on him, suffocating, but the anger beneath it was sharper, fiercer. He couldn’t let this continue. He couldn’t keep pretending you were just gone. Somewhere out there, Sylus had you, and every day that passed, every minute that slipped by, was another moment you were trapped in his clutches.

The day was finally over, though Xavier's body told a different story. Every muscle ached, every wound from the fight with the Wanderers throbbed as a sharp reminder of just how distracted he had been. The blows had landed harder today, his reactions slower, his mind somewhere else—on you. Normally, combat was his escape, the adrenaline pushing out everything except survival. But lately, even the thrill of the fight couldn't drown out the thoughts gnawing at the edges of his mind.

The thought of finally getting some rest was almost too good to believe. Akso Hospital was his next stop. A routine appointment—just a quick check-up, maybe get some medication to help him sleep. God, he needed it. The idea of sleep had become almost foreign to him, though. Xavier had never had trouble sleeping before. But lately...

The nightmares. They wouldn’t stop.

Every time he closed his eyes, you were there. Trapped, terrified, screaming for him to save you. But in the nightmare, no matter how much he willed his body to move, to run to you, he was frozen. Helpless. His legs wouldn’t budge, his hands wouldn’t lift. And then the worst part—the smile. His lips stretched into a cold, unnatural grin as if he was glad you were suffering. It haunted him, the way he could do nothing but smile like some twisted puppet controlled by unseen forces. The helplessness, the horror—it tore at him every night.

Xavier shook his head, forcing the memory away as he arrived at Akso Hospital. The building stood gleaming in the dimming light, its massive glass windows reflecting the fading hues of the evening sky. The hospital seemed almost otherworldly in its perfection, standing untouched by the chaos that raged in his life. The metallic façade shimmered, catching the last glimmers of sunlight, giving the place an almost clinical brilliance.

As he stepped inside, the doors slid open with a quiet whoosh, revealing the sterile, unnaturally bright interior. The floors were spotless, gleaming under the fluorescent lights, so polished that he could almost make out his reflection beneath his boots. The scent of disinfectant was sharp in the air, a smell that brought a strange comfort in its predictability. The atmosphere was calm, orderly—everything Xavier’s mind wasn’t.

He headed toward the waiting area, his footsteps echoing in the sterile silence of the hall. Nurses moved efficiently, their white shoes squeaking softly against the tile as they navigated through the quiet hum of hospital life. After checking in on the holographic panel near the front, Xavier slumped into a chair, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his hands over his face. He tried to clear his thoughts, but the ever-present gnawing in his chest wouldn't let go. The waiting felt endless, each second dragging painfully.

Finally, the nurse called his name.

“Xavier?” The nurse stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand, her voice pulling him from the fog that had settled over him.

He stood up quickly, brushing off the exhaustion that clung to his limbs, and followed her down the hallway. The halls were lined with doors, each leading to an examination room, and the quiet click of doors opening and closing filled the air with a sterile monotony. Soon, he was led into a small, brightly lit room where Dr. Merrill greeted him with a warm, familiar smile.

“Xavier,” Dr. Merrill said, his voice calm and professional, though tinged with the comfort of someone who had seen him before. The doctor’s movements were quick, practiced, as he reached for his stethoscope.

“Let’s start with your heart and lungs,” Dr. Merrill said, leaning forward as Xavier sat on the edge of the examination table. The cool metal of the stethoscope pressed against Xavier’s chest, the coldness biting into his skin as the doctor listened intently. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration.

The routine check-up was almost comforting in its monotony. Breathe in, breathe out—Xavier’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, the familiar pattern grounding him. Everything was normal. Physically, at least. His heart, his lungs—they were fine. Just like always.

But the silence that followed was thick with unspoken questions. Dr. Merrill stepped back, making a few notes on his clipboard, before he glanced up.

“How are you holding up mentally?” the doctor asked, his voice carefully gentle.

Xavier hesitated, the tightness in his chest returning. He had kept so much of it bottled up for so long, the weight of it pressing down on him like a vice. He could feel the tension rising, the words threatening to spill over.

“Not great,” Xavier admitted, his voice low. “I’ve been…having trouble sleeping.”

Dr. Merrill’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet understanding. “That’s not surprising, considering the work you’re involved in. A lot of people in your position go through this. Stress can really do a number on the mind.”

He paused, studying Xavier’s face more closely. “Are you having nightmares?”

Xavier nodded slowly, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. “Yeah. Every night. They won’t stop.”

Dr. Merrill leaned back against the counter, his gaze never leaving Xavier’s. “It sounds like you’re dealing with a lot more than just a lack of sleep. Nightmares are tough. And constant nightmares… they can take a toll.” He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I can relate. Between the hospital and traveling for home visits outside of Linkon, I’m not sleeping much either. Sometimes I wonder why I decided to get into gynecology on top of being a general practitioner.”

Xavier offered a weak chuckle, though it felt forced. “Yeah, I guess we’re both running on fumes.”

Dr. Merrill smiled sympathetically. “I’ll prescribe you some sleeping tablets. Take them as directed—they should help ease you into a better sleep pattern. Hopefully, that’ll help with the nightmares, too.”

The doctor scribbled on a prescription pad before tearing it off and handing it to Xavier. The small slip of paper felt heavy in his hand, as though it held more weight than just medication. He stared at it for a moment before slipping it into his pocket.

“Thanks, docter,” Xavier muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I appreciate it.”

“Take care of yourself, Xavier,” Dr. Merrill said with a nod, his tone kind but firm. “You need to look after your health to keep fighting those wanderers!”

Xavier offered a small nod in return before making his way out of the examination room. The visit had been routine, and yet, that sense of unease still clung to him, wrapping around his chest like a vice. Nothing in his life felt routine anymore.

As he headed toward the exit, a sudden urge hit him. Damn it, he needed to use the bathroom. His steps quickened as he spotted the restroom signs. Thankfully to have found them quickly he rushed in and did his business. He exited the bathroom, wanting to hurry before the pharmacy closed, but as he passed the break room, he stopped. Voices. Familiar ones.

He froze.

It was Dr. Merrill, speaking in hushed tones with someone else. Dr. Zayne. Xavier recognized him—a surgeon, dark hair, sharp features, hazel greenish eyes that always seemed to be assessing everything. He was the top surgeon at the hospital despite being so young. Their voices were low, barely audible, but Xavier strained to hear them. Something about their conversation gripped him, holding him in place.

“Yeah, it was a bit sad,” Dr. Merrill was saying, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of concern. “The girl didn’t seem all that excited. I’m supposed to go back in a few months for another check-up.”

Dr. Zayne’s response was quiet but curious. “Maybe she’s just nervous?”

Dr. Merrill let out a soft laugh. “Maybe. But honestly, it felt like she was acting like she was forced to be there. Felt bad for the husband.”

Xavier’s heart stopped. Forced? His mind raced, panic surging through his veins like fire. No. He swallowed hard, his body going cold as the words replayed in his head. Could they be talking about you?

He stiffened, every instinct screaming at him that something wasn’t right. His pulse thundered in his ears, his body frozen in place. Were they talking about you? They had to be. It was too much of a coincidence. He strained to hear better but the began speaking even quieter. Was there a way he could sneak in without them noticing and listen?

Just then, the door to the break room opened, and the two doctors nearly collided with Xavier. He stumbled back, forcing a smile as he muttered a quick apology. Dr. Merrill brushed it off with a nod, unaware of the storm raging behind Xavier’s eyes, and walked away, leaving the hospital as his shift ended.

Xavier stood there, rooted to the spot, his mind spinning wildly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a coincidence. The pieces were falling into place, and the conversation he had overheard only confirmed what he feared deep down.

There was something more—something hidden—beneath the surface of their words.

His jaw clenched as he turned and strode out of the building. He didn’t even think as he made his way to his car, his hand already reaching for the gun he kept safely stashed under the seat. His fingers curled around the weapon, the cool metal grounding him as his mind raced. He waited until Dr. Merrill started the engine in his own car before following behind him.

This was crazy. Had he lost his mind? Threatening his doctor for possible information?

Maybe.

Or maybe—just maybe—he’d gotten another lead after all. And he wasn’t about to waste it.

Xavier's fingers tightened around the grip of his gun, the cold metal sending a shiver up his spine. He sat in the driver's seat of his car, his mind still reeling from the overheard conversation. His heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He knew that what he’d heard wasn’t just some random exchange—it couldn’t be. It was too specific. Too familiar. His gut told him they had been talking about you, and Xavier had learned to trust his instincts.

His hands were steady as he checked the chamber of his weapon, the soft click of the slide bringing him a fleeting sense of calm. He wasn’t sure where Dr. Merrill was headed, but if there was even the slightest chance that this lead would bring him closer to you, he had to follow it. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

He started the car, the engine roaring to life as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot, his eyes scanning the road ahead for Dr. Merrill’s vehicle. His pulse raced, the tension building with every second. He’d waited too long, spent too many sleepless nights wondering where you were, replaying the last time he’d seen you over and over again in his mind. And now, finally, there was something—something tangible that might lead him to you.

As he turned onto the main road, his gaze locked on the back of Dr. Merrill’s car, just ahead of him. He kept his distance, careful not to draw attention. His mind was a whirlwind of possibilities—questions he didn’t have answers to yet, but he was determined to find out.

What did he know? The thought clawed at his chest, threatening to choke him with the weight of it.

Dr. Merrill’s car turned onto a narrow, dimly lit street, heading toward the outskirts of Linkon. The city lights began to fade as they left the busier part of town behind, the roads becoming quieter, more desolate. Xavier felt his breath catch as they moved further away from the familiar streets, the looming possibility that you could be close gnawing at him with every passing second.

His mind kept circling back to the words Dr. Merrill had said: She didn’t seem excited. Felt like she was acting like she was forced to be there. His blood boiled at the idea that you had been forced into anything...what did that mean? You didn't seem excited about what? And Sylus…Sylus had to be the cause, right? The rage that simmered beneath the surface flared up again, a dark heat burning through him.

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he followed Dr. Merrill from a safe distance, his mind racing with the possibility that this man held the key to finding you. He couldn’t afford to lose him now. Not when he was this close. As the doctor’s car turned off the main road and entered a quiet, suburban street, Xavier tightened his grip on the steering wheel, making sure to keep his car far enough back to avoid suspicion.

Dr. Merrill’s car eventually pulled into the driveway of a modest-looking house. It was a quiet, unassuming neighborhood—exactly the kind of place where secrets could be hidden in plain sight. Xavier parked a few houses down, waiting for the doctor to get out of his car before he stepped out of his own, slipping into the shadows like a predator closing in on its prey.

His hand hovered over the gun tucked securely into his holster, the weight of it grounding him, giving him focus. He couldn’t afford to let emotion cloud his judgment—not yet. He had to approach this carefully, methodically. Dr. Merrill had information. Information that could lead him to you. And Xavier wasn’t about to let him slip through his fingers.

He moved quickly and silently, his years of training guiding him as he made his way toward the doctor’s house. The door had barely shut behind Dr. Merrill when Xavier was already there, pressing himself against the side of the house as he glanced through the window. The lights inside were dim, the faint glow of a lamp illuminating the living room.

Dr. Merrill had settled into a chair, completely unaware of the danger closing in on him.

Xavier slipped around the side of the house, his pulse quickening as he found the back door unlocked. He pushed it open with practiced ease, slipping inside without making a sound. The house was eerily quiet, the ticking of a clock the only noise that broke the silence. Every step he took was careful, calculated. His eyes scanned the room for anything that might give him an edge.

And then he saw him. Dr. Merrill, seated with a cup of tea in hand, oblivious to the storm brewing in the shadows.

Xavier’s breath was steady as he approached, the gun drawn, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. He closed the distance between them in an instant, and before Dr. Merrill could even register his presence, Xavier was behind him, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against the back of the doctor’s head.

“Don’t move,” Xavier growled, his voice low and lethal.

Dr. Merrill froze, the cup of tea slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. His breath hitched as the realization of what was happening sank in. He didn’t dare turn around, didn’t dare make a sound.

Xavier leaned in closer, his grip on the gun tightening. “Tell me what you know,” he demanded, his voice cold and controlled. “Or your brains will be all over this room.”

Dr. Merrill’s body trembled, his voice barely a whisper. “X-Xavier? What the—”

“I don’t want explanations,” Xavier cut him off, pressing the gun harder against his skull. “I want answers. Where is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Xavier snapped, his patience wearing thin. “I heard you. I know you saw her. Now, you’re going to tell me everything, or I’ll blow your head off right here. No one will find you for days.”

Dr. Merrill swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel the gun pressing into his skin, the cold weight of it a constant reminder that his life hung in the balance. He took a shaky breath, his mind racing for a way out. But there was no way out. Not with Xavier standing behind him, not with that murderous rage in his voice.

“I don’t…I don’t know where she is exactly,” Dr. Merrill stammered, his voice shaking. “I—I’ve only seen her for one checkup. Sylus… Sylus is the one who—"

Xavier stiffened at the sound of Sylus’s name. He had been right. He had followed his gut at it had been correct.

"Don’t say his name,” Xavier hissed, his teeth gritted as he leaned closer. “Tell me what you know about her condition. What has that bastard done to her?"

Dr. Merrill swallowed again, his hands gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“I—I can’t,” Dr. Merrill whispered, his voice barely audible now, as if the words were being forced out of him against his will. “You don’t understand…If I say anything…Sylus will—”

“I don’t care what Sylus will do to you,” Xavier snapped, cutting him off sharply. “You should be more worried about what I’m going to do if you don’t start talking. Now, where. Is. She?”

Dr. Merrill swallowed hard, a small, terrified whimper escaping him as his thoughts raced. His whole body shook under the weight of Xavier’s threat, but the shadow of Sylus loomed larger, darker. “I can’t…” he whispered again, shaking his head. “I can’t tell you. If Sylus finds out I told you anything, he’ll do worse than just kill me. You don't know him like I do."

The doctor was shaking visibly now, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “He…he…” Dr. Merrill’s voice trailed off, his terror palpable. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Couldn't say much more. Not because he didn’t want to, but because the fear of Sylus’s retribution was overwhelming.

Xavier’s finger twitched on the trigger, his own frustration boiling over. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and the thought of you suffering while he was stuck here playing this game only made his blood burn hotter. He needed answers. Now.

“Listen to me,” Xavier said, his voice low but laced with a deadly calm. “You think I'm joking?”

Dr. Merrill’s voice cracked as he tried to respond, the fear of Sylus warring with the fear of the gun pressed to his head. “She’s relatively fine. She didn't look hurt,” he managed, his voice shaking. "But I can’t say more. I can’t. Please, if I tell you—”

Xavier leaned in even closer, his lips curled in a snarl. “You’d rather be afraid of him than me? Even with a gun to your head?”

The doctor didn’t answer, too paralyzed by fear, and Xavier hesitated for a moment, his finger on the trigger, his thoughts racing. He could kill him. He could end this right here. But would that get him closer to you? Would that get him the information he needed? The doctor was scared—scared of Sylus, scared of what might happen if he revealed too much.

Xavier took a deep breath, his chest tightening as he stepped back slightly, easing the pressure of the gun. He didn’t want to kill Merrill, not really. But he needed something, some leverage to get to you. His mind worked quickly, formulating a plan.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me everything,” Xavier said, his voice quieter now but no less dangerous. “But you’re going to help me. You’re going to get me closer to her.”

Dr. Merrill stayed frozen, his body still trembling as he dared to look over his shoulder. “H-How…?”

Xavier’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “Lie to Sylus. Tell him it’s urgent. Tell him you think something might be wrong and you need to check her in person. I'm going to stow away in the back of your car, and when you go inside, I'm going to find a way in.”

Dr. Merrill’s eyes widened, panic flashing in them. “He will find ou—”

“He won’t,” Xavier interrupted, his voice cold and unyielding. “If you play this right, he won’t have any reason to suspect anything. You’ve done it before. Set up an appointment. Make it believable. Say you need to run more tests, whatever you have to. I’ll follow and take it from there.”

Dr. Merrill’s breath came in shallow gasps, his fear still tangible, but he could see that Xavier wasn’t giving him a choice. His eyes darted between the gun and Xavier’s face, searching for any sign of mercy.

But there was none.

“Call him now,” Xavier ordered, the gun still steady in his hand.

Dr. Merrill’s hands trembled as he reached for his phone, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He dialed the number, his voice barely steady as he waited for Sylus to pick up.

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest as he listened, every muscle in his body tense, his ears straining to catch every word.

“Sylus?” Dr. Merrill said, his voice shaking. “It’s…it’s Dr. Merrill. I, um…I think there might be something wrong. With the-I mean, I…I need to see her again, in person. It’s urgent. I want to make sure I didn't miss anything.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Xavier’s hand twitched on the trigger, his eyes locked on Merrill.

Finally, Sylus’s voice crackled through the phone, calm but dangerous. “Is that so? Very well. Come by tomorrow around 9 am.”

Hearing Sylus's voice ignited an anger in Xavier's heart so big he nearly grabbed the phone from the doctor, still he kept quiet, even trying not to breathe so loud as to not tip off Sylus that someone else was there.

The call ended, and Dr. Merrill let out a shaky breath, his hand still gripping the phone tightly as he looked up at Xavier with wide, terrified eyes.

“It’s done,” Dr. Merrill whispered, his voice barely audible. "I did what you asked..."

Xavier didn’t lower his gun just yet. He stared down at Dr. Merrill, his expression hard, unreadable, as if deciding whether or not to trust him.

“You better hope you’re telling the truth,” Xavier said quietly, his voice thick with menace. “Because if you’re lying to me—if this is a trap—I’ll make sure Sylus never gets the chance to kill you.”

Dr. Merrill nodded quickly, his body trembling with fear. “I swear, I’m not lying. I did what you asked.”

Xavier hesitated for another moment, his eyes locked on Merrill, before finally stepping back and lowering his gun. He didn’t holster it, though. Not yet. He wasn’t done.

“You’ll take me there,” Xavier said, his tone flat. “And you’ll make sure she’s safe when I get her out. Do you understand?”

Dr. Merrill nodded again, his face pale, his entire body trembling. “I understand.”

Xavier glanced toward the door, his mind already moving to the next step. He was getting closer—closer to finding you, closer to ending this nightmare. He wasn’t going to stop now.

Without another word, he turned and headed toward the door, the tension still crackling in the air between them. As he reached the threshold, he cast one final glance over his shoulder at Dr. Merrill.

“Pray that you’re telling the truth,” Xavier warned, his voice low and deadly. “Because if you’re not, there won’t be enough left of you for Sylus to recognize.”

And with that, Xavier disappeared into the night, his heart pounding with the promise of what was to come.

He was going to find you.

And nothing—not Sylus, not fear, not anything—was going to stop him. He didn’t care about Sylus’s stupid threats in this moment. He would bring you home before Sylus ever layed a finger on you.

[tllgrrl]

April Showers Bring Foolery and Shenanigans:

The Vacation Edition - Chapter 1 - “The Foolery continues…”

Rating: G - This time.

Mischievous!Prankster Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson

Summary: Bucky takes every opportunity to get Sarah wet. Whether at home or away on vacation.

****

Prologue: While she was wrapping up her Zoom Staff Meeting, he quietly slid into the pool, completely immersed himself, and climbed out…

****

Being able to check in once a week was the only way Sam and Bucky got Sarah to take some real time off, as in an actual vacation. Alone, just the two of them.

They were staying at one of the beautiful homes that Tony Stark inherited from his late father, Howard Stark. (Howard met Hedy Lamar and decided he wanted to get in the moviemaking business, so he bought a mansion…or two…in Los Angeles.)

Pepper offered the keys to them so they could have more privacy than they would even at the most elite hotel in the area.

They were given a phone number they could call 24 hrs a day for anything they needed. The PIN was j-@-r-v-1-5 .

They also had a refrigerator and pantry stocked, per their personal requests, so they could cook.

Sarah was poolside at a table in the shade. Her laptop was open, and she had an iPad. Bucky was nearby, reading one of the books he brought along. (She gave up trying to talk him into getting a tablet with apps that would give him access to whatever he wanted to read. He preferred conventional books.)

While she was listening to a report from the restaurant’s kitchen manager, Bucky indicated that he was going to get refills on their coffees and she nodded at his wink.

A few minutes later the team saw her eyes tracking…something…as she was talking the final bullet point about the upcoming menu changes.

Then she completely stopped talking. They couldn’t see what she was looking at:

Bucky, soaked to the skin, slowly sauntering toward her, clothes plastered to his body, chiseled abs clearly defined under the dripping wet t-shirt.

They saw her slowly shaking her head, then her picture snapped out, and the last thing they heard was:

“Hey, Sarah.”

“James. Don’t…You…Even…Think—“

“Come’ere you…”

“NononoNO!! James! You’re soaking—!! Put me down!! Boy!! Stop playin—“

SPLAASSH!!!

The meeting was adjourned when they heard Bucky laughing…then Sarah.

They’d heard that laugh once before when Bucky brought her lunch from home. She had closed her office door…and locked it.

To be continued…

**********

Inspired by the photograph from the Sebastian Stan cover story in L’Officiel magazine and the fic that started this nonsense: April Showers Bring Shenanigans and Foolery over on AO3.

**********

Note: April Showers…The Vacation Edition is also at AO3: CH 1 / CH 2 / CH 3, Pt 1 / CH 3, Pt 2 / CH 3, Pt 3 / Epilogue

As they aren’t blessed with these lovely photos, instead they are a little more descriptive and are a bit more expanded. Chapter 3 is in 2 parts. Part 1 is Rated G/T. Part 2 is Rated: E as in Exclusively for Grown Folks.

[youmarin]

Ch. 00 Pt. II :

Talk About Nothing | JJ Maybank x fem! reader

[Edited: March 3, 2023]

a/n: Hi everyone, it's me again back with another piece! It comes after the previous one, To-Not-Do-But-Actually-Do-List that you can find and read right here. I feel it's more like a filler rather than an official second part tbh. Wanted to thank everyone for the likes on TNDBAD List. And special thank you to those 2 anons for their words. Feedback's always appreciated.

I'm okay with readers telling me if I made any grammar mistakes. English is my second language. If you want to know something about the story or make a comment don't hesitate to do so. 😁 Also if you would like a Spanish translation lmk and I'll work on it.

tw: swearing (like one Spanish swear word probably). Other than that I don't think there's much more.

•There's a brief mention of stereotypes (tattoos, piercings, etc.)

•Also I used the word 'gringo' once (which ain't a bad word but there's always someone who says otherwise. Respect but don't agree with their opinion.) Mentioning it just in case.

*Reader's hispanic/latino as you might've noticed. So there's a larger dialogue in this part that's in Spanish. (I'll translate the convo between [] in parts where's necessary ).

Just sweet reader and JJ moments with a bittersweet ending.

Word count: 2.6K+ approx.

After a tiring day of school, a rather hot one - signaling that the beginning of Summer break was approaching-, you finally were about to head home. Gathering your things in your bookbag, you stood up and headed for the door after wishing a good day to your teacher and friends. Not only but a few steps out of the school gates, JJ - who you didn’t know was waiting for you today too. His class being dismissed a few minutes before yours -  spotted you and quickly said goodbye to his friends. He sprinted towards you, reaching you and giving a small jump after taking impulse from your shoulders, effectively startling you. “‘Sup!”

 “Carajo, JJ, you scared me.” you said, a hand to your chest. “I could’ve hit you.”

“You should be used to it by now.” He shrugged. 

“I thought you had already left.” you mentioned, glancing at him starting to walk by your side. 

“And that's exactly what I wanted you to think by not meeting you inside.” He mentioned, proud that his little plan worked out. You two were falling into a rhythm, trying to meet each other by your locker for him to walk you home when you both didn't have your own things to do. It started not so long after you two ditched the party and spent the night together. His friends had told him that he could invite you to hang out with all of them too, but he hadn’t done so. At least not yet. He wouldn’t say, or wouldn’t even know himself, but he enjoyed having all your attention for himself. He had yet another reason to look forward for the end of school day, unconsciously walking slower to prolong the moment, and see how you went from being quiet to get more loose as the minutes passed.

Today, things went a little different. Since the first time he walked you home, he hadn’t once met your family. He knew that the first time you had stopped a few houses ahead because you weren’t in a good place with your family and didn’t want to make the matter worse. But after that, after all his big talk about not minding meeting them, he actually got a little insecure about it and made sure to not get too close. 

The walk seemed a lot shorter or maybe he got too distracted by you, so he didn’t notice you had stopped in front of a small establishment, which was in fact, the front of your house. There were a few people sitting on the tables at the open space in front, enjoying their meals and company. He could hear the faint music from a radio in the background, salsa music specifically -most likely your brother's doing-. It gave a homely atmosphere, warm and inviting. You loved that about it because it was like a piece of your home had come along with you all those years ago to the Outer Banks. 

He finally got out of his own little world he had wrapped you both in when he heard someone, a woman, saying your name. He froze in place.

“¿Mira niña, te piensas quedar ahí afuera? ¿Qué pasa que no avisas que llegaste?”  [Are you planning on standing outside? Why didn't you say you were home?] Your mom spoke directed to you from behind the counter when she noticed you had arrived. Her gaze then shifted between you and JJ, who was just staring back at her, then back to you and back to JJ again. She finally fixed her gaze on you, and you knew what she wanted to know already. 

Nervously, you started, “Mom, this is JJ.” , forgetting to switch back to Spanish. She totally understood what you said (she understood a good deal of things, the difficulty was when it came to speaking), but she didn't like for you to not speak in your native tongue when it was between your family.

The boy in question perked up at the mention of his name, lifting his hand awkwardly in greeting, hesitating. Well, it was too late to run off now.

Apparently, your mom found more interesting the fact that you had company, forgetting to scold you about your slip up earlier. ¿Este es el JJ del que te pasas hablando?” 

“¡Mami!” you complained, getting flustered. Dying to understand what the hell had caused that reaction out of you, JJ looked around as if the explanation was lying around somewhere, frowning. And apparently it was.

“Mom asked if you were that JJ boy my sister always talks about. She’s always talking about you.” Your brother proceeded to wink at you and walk away, arms occupied with something from the store he was carrying while he did an imitation of your voice and whatever you might’ve said about JJ that he happened to overhear, but that part he didn’t say in English. Not even him could turn against you like that. You noticed his backpack was still on his back so that meant he had just gotten home moments before you. 

You opened your mouth to protest but settled on covering your face with your hands, then glanced over at JJ from behind them, seeing the smirk on his face while he looked at you.

Your mom, saying it was about time you come in and eat, asked if JJ was coming. 

“Would you like to come in?” You invited, calming down.

“Yes ma’am.” He accepted, feeling a little more confident now, due to the new information that your family had heard about him. You grabbed his arm, guiding him around and heading all the way back to your house. He kept looking around curiously, admiring the place. He once stopped walking making you almost fall back when he noticed some pictures of when you were little placed around the small living room, “Is that you?” “No”, you lied moving to grab his face, making him look away from the pictures then grabbing his arm again to make him continue walking. He chuckled behind you. 

Your mom motioned for JJ to take a seat at the dinner table, almost making him sit herself. “Muchachito, tú estás flaco, ¿tú quieres comer algo?” [Young boy, you really are thin. Would you like to eat something?] She asked him, her hands placed on his shoulders. At that point you just laughed while you shook your head, wishing you could just vanish right then and there, while you take a seat across from him. 

“Um…” He smiled nervously, while he looked between you and her for help. 

“She’s asking if you would like to eat something.” You answer him. You see how his face lights up finally understanding. 

“Oh yeah, sure.” your mom smiles and nods, pats his shoulder seeing his eagerness and lack of shame, being the greedy growing boy he was. He really would like to have something to eat. And who’s him to decline a free food offer? And a warm homemade meal? That's even better. But that doesn’t stop his eyes from widening when he sees the amount of food that contained the plate placed in front of him.

“I’m sorry if this is too much.” You apologize, thinking he might feel a little uncomfortable. But you see as he digs in, and you chuckle. “Buen provecho.”

He lets out a content sound, “Oh this tastes so good.”  you manage to make out what he says as he speaks with his mouth full, which makes you laugh. He swallows his food, and settles on giving a thumbs up to your mom, who’s about to take a seat at the head of the table. She stares at him, amused and failing to hide the pride she feels when she gets complimented for her cooking.

“Dice que la comida está buena.” You explain to her anyways even though she probably got that part, still laughing at JJ.

He nods. "That. Bueno. Muy bueno."

He smiles, seeing you smile, both of you starting to feel more relaxed. You three sat there, your mom asking questions from time to time, you translating for JJ and your mom. It was impressive how he managed to be so calm besides happening to meet almost all your family so suddenly. He only seemed to tense up at the mention of his family, which you had noticed he never really talked about. Actually, you had never walked to his place. And you knew he hung out at John B’s a lot. You hid your curiosity, not wanting to make him feel pressured to talk much about it and giving a look to your mom, who after a while excused herself and left you two alone, having made enough questions for the time being.

“Oh God, I’m stuffed.” JJ whined dramatically. Still, after a moment, he started to help you clean the table and you both made your way to the kitchen. He thanked your mom for everything and attempted to wash his plate, just for your mom to start scolding him, taking the plate from him and doing it herself while he just laughed and took the earful, giving up. You witness the interaction fondly, catching yourself when JJ looks back at you, and you shrugged at him, giving him a smile. 

JJ excused himself as he went to the bathroom, you indicating him where it was. That left you alone with your mom. “Un rubio de ojos azules.” [A blue-eyed blondie.] she laughed while shaking her head, finishing in the kitchen and heading out to the dining room once again. 

“A Y/N le gusta el gringo.” [*he's saying that you like JJ*] Your brother said in a singsong voice, butting in again, making his way in after being in charge of the store for a while. It was getting late, and the clientele was dying down, which gave him room to come and bother every few minutes. “¿Cómo es que se llama?” [What was his name again?]

“¡Dude shut up!” You wanted to say it in a more angry tone but your laughter was betraying you. “Dejen de molestar. Es mi amigo. Y se llama JJ.”  [Stop being annoying. He's a friend. And his name's JJ.]

“Por ahí se empieza.” [That's how it starts.]

“Ya está bueno.” [That's enough.] Your mom warned your brother. You smiled triumphantly as your brother flipped you off and left once again as he heard a customer come in. “No creas que no te habíamos visto llegar a casa con él antes.” [Don't be thinking we hadn't seen you walk home with him before.] Your mom told you, and you tensed but said nothing, not knowing how she expected you to answer that. “Y no tiene nada de malo. Tiene cara de buenagente pero parece buena persona.” [And there's nothing wrong with it.][ *she's saying he look like a buena gente* . Literally, that just means 1. "good people", but it also can be used to describe someone 2.mischievous or troublesome. Also 3. someone who can do a little more shady stuff. In here, she's using it with meaning #2] [Still, he looks like a good person.] She finished, and you smiled a little at how she chose to describe him. It was a little contradictory but you knew she had liked him. Still she seemed a little worried, like she wasn't saying all she wanted to say.

“¿Y por qué no me dijiste nada si ya sabías quién era? Estás hablando como si algo no te agradara del todo.” [Then why didn't you tell me you already knew who he was? You're talking like there's something you don't like very much.]

“Porque no te quiero decir con quién debes andar y con quién no. Confío en que tú sabes con quién te juntas. Yo sé que tú no coges confianza rápido con las personas y que te toma tiempo. Algo bueno debe tener para que te juntes con él. Pero tú sabes cómo es tu papá. Que no te quiere por ahí con muchachitos buscando problemas o “malandros” como él les dice.” [Because I don't want to tell you who you should and shouldn't be around with. I know you don't trust people easily and that it takes you time. You've had to have seen something good in him to be around him. But you know how your father is, that he doesn't want you around kids looking for problems or *malandros=like, ppl who do shady stuff. Not a synonym of buena gente tho.* as he calls them.]

“¿Y ahora JJ es un malandro?” [And now JJ is *?] you scoffed at the idea. “Mami, ¿de dónde siquiera se sacaron eso? Él ni siquiera cae en la descripción de papi: “Ah, tatuajes, piercings, mira la cara que tiene.” You imitated your dad’s voice, mockingly. “Esos estereotipos de ustedes.” [Where do you got that from? He doesn't even fit dad's profile: "Oh, tattoos, piercings, look at his expression." You and your stereotypes] You shook your head. 

“No es que lo sea. Es que tengas cuidado.” [ It's not that he is. Just be careful] She tried to explain. “Tu papá y yo nos preocupamos porque hemos escuchado cosas por ahí.”  [Your dad and I worry because we've heard stuff around.]

That information piqued your interest, but refrained from asking about it. At least not for now, not while you had other options. “Lo acabas de conocer, ma’. Y pa’ todavía ni lo ha conocido en persona. Lo que sea que hayas escuchado no debería importar. Lo que importa es lo que él te deje ver. Yo voy a seguir conociéndolo por lo que él me deje ver, no por lo que otros anden diciendo de él.” [You just met him, mom. Dad hasn't even met him in person yet. Whatever you have heard shouldn't matter. What matters is what he lets you see. I'm gonna keep getting to know him for what he shows me, not for what other people go around saying about him.] You stared at her and gave her a small smile “Okay?” 

Grabbing your hand from on top of the table, she gave it a light squeeze. She closed her eyes for a moment, then mimicked your smile. “Okay.” 

JJ had been listening to you two speak for a while. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he just didn’t want to interrupt. Also he liked to hear you speak and see you where you could be your most comfortable self. If only he knew they’ve been talking about him all the time.

“Oh hey you. You’re back.” You smiled at him when you saw him finally walk in. Your mom, seeing the way you both smiled at each other, concluded she wouldn’t bring up that topic again unless it was strictly necessary. 

----------------- 

You walked JJ outside, both of you standing in front of the store, the last sunrays casting a light orange glow around. JJ now had a bag with more food your mother had packed for him to take home, even though he told her she really didn’t have to bother doing that. She also let him pick whatever he wanted from the store, and with no other choice, he settled in grabbing a couple of snacks. 

“So,” he started, as he turned to look at you, “Your mom's nice.”  

“Yeah, she’s quite the character.”  you chuckled, looking down at your fidgeting fingers. You shook your head. “I’m sorry if something bothered you. It all happened so fast I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“Hey.” He called your attention. “It 's okay. I had fun today, as always.” he reassured you. “Quite the opposite. It made me feel comfortable knowing that you were comfortable enough to let me meet your family.", he made a brief pause, "Also, you need to stop apologizing.”  

“Sorry, comes out of habit.”, you catched yourself, “ I mean. Okay."

He wanted to ask what was that about but chose not to, instead saying something else before heading out. “So, I assume that if your mom’s cooking is that good, yours is as well, right?” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes, amused.

“ I do sometimes prepare a mean meal." you said jokingly. "No but seriously now, I most of the time choose to help mom out. She says I’m very good at it but I actually hate cooking. I prefer doing the dishes honestly.”, you state. He nods, before coming up with a proposition. 

“Say, if I volunteer to do the dishes, would you be the cook next time you have me over?” He gave you another grin. He was mostly joking, so he didn’t expect a real answer.

“I’ll consider it.” was your response, crossing your arms and giving him a close-lipped smile, happy about the implication of a next time. The thought of how cute you looked right now crossed his mind. 

“I should get going now.” He reached over for his cap with his free hand, suddenly getting kind of nervous, stalling a bit.

“Right.” you hid how him having to leave lowered your spirits a little. “See ya at school tomorrow.”, you hesitated as he said goodbye and started walking out. “Um…” 

He turned to look at you almost immediately again, getting his attention. He then felt your lips on his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his lips. You had tripped over your feet, holding on to him to reach up for a kiss, since he was much taller than you. His eyes widened, suddenly forgetting how to move. Meanwhile, you stepped back, still holding his arm, eyes mirroring his at the fact that you almost kissed him. You came out of your freaked out state first, and let go of his arm when you noticed you were still holding onto him. “Um, bye.” you smiled nervously, slowly starting walking back backwards, a bad idea as you nearly tripped again. You recovered, giving the same smile and short wave, disappearing into your home.

He watched the way where you had went, a hand reaching for the spot on his cheek you had kissed him while a smile slowly took form on his face. He didn’t know what made you do that, but he liked it. 

---------------- 

JJ took a detour on his way to John B’s and made a stop at his place first. His dad wasn’t around, the only thing left behind were the traces of his presence, the house a mess. He decided to fix everything around a little, make the place more decent even though he knew it wouldn’t take long for the place to get trashed again. He finished by leaving his dad a note letting him know there was some food in the fridge, having decided to leave it for him. He hoped he at least noticed the note. He grabbed a couple things from his room, putting them inside his backpack, looked around for the last time, before heading out. 

[choicesficwriterscreations]

The Royal Romance Masterlist 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

May 2024

Week ending May 25, 2024

A Child of Babel ✒️🏳‍🌈 | Hana Lee x Kiara Theron - @lizzybeth1986

All That She Wants (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️ | Multiple Pairings - @angelasscribbles Chapter 7: Now What? Liam Rys x Olivia Nevrakis Chapter 8: Conversations Liam Rys x F!MC, Drake Walker x F!MC Chapter 9: Confrontation Liam Rys x F!MC, Drake Walker x F!MC, Liam Rys x Olivia Nevrakis

Princessa Real (Series) ✒️ | Liam x MC - @belencha77 Chapter 23: El Tiempo se Acerca Chapter 24: Cazando Por Amor

Laylat al-Henna ✒️🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x Kiara Theron - @lizzybeth1986

Marabelle (AU Series) ✒️ | Liam Rys x F!OC - @tessa-liam Chapter 12: Long Live the King

Week ending May 18, 2024

All That She Wants (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️ | Multiple Pairings - @angelasscribbles Chapter 6: Unvarnished Truths Liam Rys x F!MC, Drake Walker x F!MC

Princessa Real (Series) ✒️ | Liam x MC - @belencha77 Chapter 18: Fiesta En La Playa Chapter 19: Cascada Del Olvido Chapter 20: La Manzana De Su Ojo Chapter 21: Una Noche Para Recordar Chapter 22: Tan Dulce Como un Pie

Week ending May 11, 2024

Week ending May 4, 2024

April 2024

Behind Closed Doors (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| Maxwell Beaumont x MC, Liam Rys x Maxwell Beaumont - @angelasscribbles Chapter 1: The Invitation

A Bird in Hand ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Catch & Release ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @dcbbw

Dance Under the Rainbow 🎨🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x MC - @uselessgay10101

Forevermore (Series) ✒️ | King Marquise (Liam) x F!MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 5: Joy of Winter

TRR Complete List Week Ending 4/27/2024

March 2024

The DeFacto Queen (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 5: Come Together

Capitulo 3: Adios New York ✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Capitulo 4: Bienvenidos a Cordonia ✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Capitulo 5: Noche Especial✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Once Upon a Time, Book 1. Ch. 1 (Part 7) ✒️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, etc. - @fadingreveries

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 19: Built to Last

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Liam Rys x M!MC - @justcallmefox89 Chapter 20

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys (King Marquise) x F!MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 5: Joy of Winter

Fruit of Her Loins ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys - @littleredroseonthevalley

Ghosted (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC - @kristinamae093 Chapter 11: Altering Visions

Hirbawi ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Drake Walker x MC - @petiteboheme

Maxwell Beaumont x MC 🎨by @bombomangooo

Midnights Like This (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Leo Rys x F!OC, Liam Rys x F!MC - @queenrileyrose Part 15: Hold Me Tight

Princesa Real (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @belencha77 Chapter 1: El Amor no Existe Chapter 2: Erase Una Vez 🔹

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (Pt. 1) ✒️ | Multiple Characters - @fadingreveries

The Royal Romance: Once Upon a Time (Chapter 2) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @fadingreveries

The Royal Romance Book 1, Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time Part 6 ✒️ | Liam Rys x MC - @fadingreveries

Savage Love (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 37: Gone

Second Chance Love (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥 | Liam Rys x MC, Liam Rys x F!OC - @mysticalfangirl Part 1

Secrets Behind Their Eyes Ch. 1 & 2✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont - @fancy--marshmallow

Secrets Behind Their Eyes Ch. 3 ✒️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont - @fancy--marshmallow

Turning the Page (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @tessa-liam Chapter 11: A Step Back in Time

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 23: Rescue You

You Belong to Me (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x F!MC - @queenrileyrose Part One: I Wonder What's Mine

February 2024

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You - Part 5✒️| Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis - @alj4890

Cordonian Karaoke (Series) ✒️🔹| Drake Walker, Liam Rys, MC - @angelasscribbles Riley Take 4

Hana Take 3 ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| Hana Lee x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles

Goodbyes Are the Hardest ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @silvermillenniumqueenneptune

Marabelle: The Game of Kings ✒️💘🔹| Liam Rys x F!MC - @tessa-liam

My Lonely Valentine: The Agreement ✒️💘Ⓜ️ 🔥🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Olivia Nevrakis Fanart 🎨by @artbyalz

Round Robin Chapter 1: Welcome ✒️🔹- @angelasscribbles

Side by Side (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @ownworldresident Chapter 9: Renewal

Single Again ✒️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Staking a Claim ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Drake Waker x MC - @angelasscribbles

Turning the Page (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Ry Chapter 10: Somewhere Only We Know

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 22: My Way Back to You

Wild Ride: A Bad Romance Prequel One-Shot ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

January 2024

Week ending January 6, 2024

The Best Mistake He Never Had (Series) ✒️| Drake Walker x MC - @camillemontespan Part Four

Traditions ✒️🌟| Liam Rys x MC - @bebepac

Unexpected (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️ | Liam Rys x MC, Maxwell Beaumont x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 10: The Truth Comes Out Chapter 11: Let's Be Happy

What's Already Mine ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @ao719

Week ending January 13, 2024 Complete List

Week ending January 20, 2024

Anything But Common (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Hana Lee & MC - @silvermillenniumqueenneptune Magical Misadventures in Miscellany

Liam Rys Fanart 🎨 by @bayleedraws-sometimesx

Marabelle (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @tessa-liam Chapter 9: The Awakening

Midnights Like This ✒️🔹| Leo Rys x MC - @queenrileyrose Chapter 14: Falling Like Stars

Single Mom ✒️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @dcbbw

You Can Tell Me Anything ✒️| Drake Walker x F!MC - @camillemontespan

Week ending January 27, 2024

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!MC - @ao719 Chapter 18: Maybe We'll Get it Right

Daylight ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| TRR MC x ? - @angelasscribbles

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| King Marquise (Liam) x MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 4a: The Princess Diary, Part 1 Chapter 4b: The Princess Diary, Part 2

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 3:

It's My Own Design Ch 7:

Summary:

Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?

The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.

New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.

And if they were wrong?

What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions and very brief flash of a depiction of rape, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Torture, human experimentation.

Oh gawd, how could 4 weeks have passed and I literally only finished editing this chapter a handful of hours ago!? Also, fucking Word Document’s Read Aloud function decided to be a bitch and get some weird laggy shit inbetween paragraphs which made editing so slow and frustrating-

Maaaan, I was so swamped these four weeks, I feel like a goddamn psychic, because if I hadn't announced a delay, I most certainly would have after a week. Like, everything that could happen happened all at the same time and then everything else that I wouldn't have expected happened one after the other like goddamn dominoes.

Why am I so tired-

At least I miraculously managed to finish the artwork I planned for this chapter within like 5hrs, absolute insanity there, I must have had a Van Gogh-esque moment of delirium and actually managed to make an artwork without any re-drawing and without getting a hand cramp. Anyway, hope you guys like the art and hopefully it'll make it easier to picture the different energy types the Keeper's been playing with! =D

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Remember that time, Oberon? When we snuck into my dad's office and stole his firewhiskey and replaced it with tea? That was-

Drip.

-one hell of a heist wasn't it?

Drip.

Drip.

Remember the time you accidentally kissed my girlfriend? Forgave you for that, didn't I, Oberon?

Drip.

Stood up for you against your dad when he thought you broke that pot on his shelf. He was all like “Oberon Selwyn, how dare you break my grandfather's urn!”.

Drip.

Yet, you think you have the right to feel betrayed?

Drip.

Drip.

You never volunteered to take my place.

Drip.

You were just so relieved it wasn't you.

Drip.

Drip.

Oberon...

Drip.

I was so scared... I was in so much pain...

Drip.

Drip.

Obe-

Drip.

-ron...

Tap.

Drip.

Tap.

Drip.

Creeaaaak.

“A very good morning to you, Selwyn.”

Drip.

“How was your sleep last night?”

Drip.

Oh, look who's here...

Drip.

I think, it's your turn to feel-

Drip.

- fear.

Drip.

“Feeling well rested?”

Drip.

Drip.

“No greeting for us? Not even a thank you? And here we were so-”

Drip.

“-nice, letting you have some quality-”

Drip.

“-time with your ex-best mate.”

Drip.

Drip.

The only response the Keeper received from the dazed boy, bound as he was to a chair, was frantic breathing, as though he couldn’t even hear them. His half-lidded eyes glassy behind his brown matted hair, his face ashen and grey. They crouched before him, obstructing Selwyn's view of Macnair, who was strapped loosely to another chair just across from him, the black-haired boy's eyes empty and soulless.

Observing him, they noted that his hands spasmed every time the agricultural tool, that they'd borrowed from Ominis, and which Sebastian had then modified, released a single droplet of cold water to land on the centre of Selwyn's forehead. His eyes would jump erratically upon contact, and his whole body would flinch, almost as though that impact of a single bead of water could be likened to a blow to the head.

In contrast, the pauses between each droplet made his pupils dilate, his body near trembling, as though the next drop was the most terrifying thing in existence. Breathless anticipation for it driving him mad.

Which was the point, of course.

“What do you think?” The Keeper asked.

“Well, I'd say he looks about right.” Sebastian shrugged. “Nothing for it but to take a look I'd imagine.”

“True. I'll take a quick peek to confirm first then.” They nodded absently as they drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Entering Selwyn's mind felt like stepping into a thick sludge of creeping, crawling fear, and the Keeper recoiled as they were deluged with a suffocating blanket of anxiety. Well, at least his torture seemed to have stripped him of any mental defences he might have, much like emotional pain did.

As the Keeper struggled to get a hold of themselves, a droplet of water hit his forehead with all the force of a bludgeon to the head.

Aaand nope. Without another thought, they promptly did an about face and exited his mind.

“Hoo boy, now that is disgusting, ugh. Absolutely awful.” The Keeper shuddered, trying to shake off the feeling. “Well, I'd say that was incredibly effective, how did you even come up with this one?”

Sebastian gave an awkward laugh, flashing a sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his head. “I'd love to take credit, but I actually got the idea from a short story in an American magazine.”

“You read magazines?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, my brain would be mush if I only read tomes, I do some recreational reading from time to time.” Sebastian straightened defensively.

“Would it kill you to pick up a newspaper instead?” The Keeper sighed.

“Bleh, you get more out of magazines than the papers if you want anything new and interesting. Pure gossip rag, the Daily Prophet.” Sebastian shook his head. “Anyway, The Compromiser, it was called, the short story that is. Never thought its description of Chinese Water Torture was something that'd end up useful, but here we are.”

“Remind me never to cross the Chinese.” The Keeper chuckled dryly.

“Doubt it's actually Chinese, the story's in English and didn't seem like it was translated, imagine the author might've just named it like that to make it seem more interesting.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“That so? Well, either way, it looks like it worked.” The Keeper grinned. “Now let's see if I can extract anything from this.”

The Keeper closed their eyes and began scanning Selwyn's aura. As they did so, they quickly realised that every time the water hit him, pain would radiate across his aura, making it difficult to detect anything else. It was curious that such a small thing could cause pain, but then again, the steady drip of water upon stone could eventually erode even rock, perhaps it wasn't quite so strange.

“Seb, could you put a pause on it?” The Keeper leaned over to whisper into their partner's ear.

“Sure.” With a quick swish of his wand, the contraption ceased its uneven release of water and the Keeper returned to their examination.

As time stretched out and the expected droplet never made its descent upon Selwyn's skin, his fear and anticipation only mounted, and as it did so, the Keeper focused. Raising their wand and attempting to detect the strand of emotion, one they did not know the texture of, yet must certainly be present for his mind was so deeply steeped in it.

Somehow, however, they weren't finding shit. The Keeper fought the urge to punch the sobbing and trembling boy, because it wouldn't help if they added pain into the mix again.

The Keeper took a deep breath, maybe they were coming at this from the wrong angle. Pain signals to the body that something needs resources and attention to heal, fear on the other hand... it wasn't fun, but they thought back to what they'd felt in his mind. Tightness in the chest, difficulty breathing, numbness in the fingers...

Fear... perhaps it was less a signal and more a... state of being? How would they get that out then? Where would they get it out from? The Keeper frowned and began scrutinising his aura, perhaps rather than something moving... they focused their ancient magic on the body of the aura itself.

Maybe instead of scraping pain as it rippled off the surface of the aura, they'd need to literally dig deep. After all, fear comes from within.

So, they did. The Keeper forcefully burrowed their ancient magic into his aura, piercing the surface tension, slowly and painstakingly reaching the tendrils of their magic deeper into his soul. It took a few moments, before they noticed that the tips of their fingers, wrapped around their wand, were getting... cold.

There was a barely noticeable chill creeping up along the wood ever so slowly, its frost setting in so gradually, that it'd escaped their attention.

“What the-” The Keeper hissed, flinching when their magic touched something distinctly slimy, and cold as ice.

The tendrils of their ancient magic recoiled naturally from the uncomfortable sensation, only for whatever they'd touched to follow them, its chill clinging to their magic as the Keeper frantically withdrew from Selwyn's aura. Their eyes opened as they extracted their magic, watching with disgust as their wand came away with a long black string of thick, slimy, and sticky looking... goop, clinging to it.

“Ugh, is that his fear?” Sebastian's voice sounded equally disgusted as he held out a jar under the strand, where the pooling gunk was hanging low.

“I think so.” The Keeper grimaced, trying to shake the goop from their wand and into the jar. “At least it didn't cost much, didn't need to meld my magic to it or anything, it just- clung to me on my way out.”

“Well, fear is contagious and rather hard to shake off.” Sebastian mused, raising the jar to look at the sticky mess clinging to its glass walls.

“I suppose so... gave me chills when I touched it.” The Keeper grimaced. “I think this is the first time I've not wanted to taste a new type of magic.”

Sebastian gave a sympathetic laugh. “Yeah, no kidding, this stuff looks pretty nasty. Reminds me of ink cap mushrooms.”

“Still, it behoves us to test it regardless, it could prove too useful for mere discomfort to dissuade its use.” The Keeper sighed, folding their arms. “After all, we've seen in testing how much more powerful and efficient even a fraction of the energy created by the Cruciatus curse is. Boosting both magic and physical strength to the same level as a full hit with only half a dose. Even if it costs too much to harvest it...”

They trailed off, their expression becoming distant for a few moments, before their eyes widened.

“Hang on, if it enhances both... I just had an idea.” Lowering their arms, the Keeper immediately made for the cell door. “Let's go to the lab.”

Sebastian blinked in some confusion, as they rushed out of the cell.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” The Keeper paused mid-step to call back to him. “You can start up the drip again.”

Sebastian chuckled, flicking his wand at the dropper tool, amused when its first drop actually got a scream from Selwyn. Exiting the cell and closing the door behind him, he dutifully followed his partner at a jog, quickly catching up to the Keeper, who was already halfway up the stairs.

“So, you know how I tested the Cruciatus pain energy a few days ago.” The Keeper began speaking the moment he caught up to them.

“Uhuh, after spending an hour convincing Ominis to agree to the test.” Sebastian flashed a wry grin. “I hope you've got something good planned for the Fear, because I think he's just about ready to explode again.”

They grimaced, shaking their head at the reminder. “Well, I'm sure I'll think of something, but I can worry about that later.”

He shot them an incredulous look, they'd really gone ahead with the experiment even before preparing an argument for Ominis? Exactly how improvised were those arguments?

“If you recall, at the time, I theorised that it was because of the intense mix of emotional and physical pain, caused by the Cruciatus curse, that raised its pressure high enough to rip a hole in Macnair’s aura and likely why it provided such a powerful boost when consumed.” The Keeper explained, sounding more like they were thinking aloud rather than speaking for his benefit.

Pushing open the door to the potions lab, the Keeper strode across the room to the second potions station they'd added for themselves and waved their wand to begin setting up the cauldron. They then plucked two jars from the table's shelf as well, one labelled E-Pain, for emotional pain, and the other P-Pain for physical. He could see where this was going.

“I think, if we mix emotional and physical pain energies, we might be able to create more of that.” The Keeper gazed at the jar of red and black lava still remaining on the shelf, labelled C-Pain, their eyes gleaming with greed. “Cruciatus Pain energy.”

“Without the cost of a test subject.” Sebastian nodded, it made sense.

“I'll just use this cauldron...” The Keeper murmured to themselves, opening the jar of P-Pain energy, and dumping its thick and bubbly liquid-like contents into the pot. They then opened the jar of E-Pain energy, catching a wisp of bubbly smoke with their wand and lowering it into the cauldron as well.

They hadn't even heard him, Sebastian shook his head with a fond smile, they sure are excited. It was kind of strange, seeing his partner so animated for a change. He wasn't sure what he looked like when he got excited, but if it was this cute, he could see why they were always staring at him with that smile around their eyes.

Seeing the Keeper frown and heave a disappointed sigh, he placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, peering into the cauldron, and quickly understanding the source of their frustration. The bubbling smoke wasn't mixing with the heavy liquid. Instead, the gassy cloud of bubbles seemed to be creating a layer, sitting over the top of the liquid.

“Maybe give it a stir?” He offered them a ladle and they raised a sceptical eyebrow at him, but took it anyway, lowering it into the pot and giving it a swirl.

Unfortunately, the ladle went right through the stuff, not causing the energy to move at all.

The Keeper sighed again. “Bloody incorporeal energy.”

“Let's not give up yet, why don't you add more emotional pain?” Sebastian suggested. “Maybe it's like potion making and won't react until it's the correct amount?”

“You're right.” The Keeper nodded, giving him a grateful smile, and pulling out more of the energy to add to the mix, murmuring quietly under their breath. “Come on...”

As the smoky layer thickened and the jar gradually emptied, Sebastian noticed that the table under his palm had begun to vibrate ever so slightly, and a feeling of unease washed over him.

“Look out!” He yelped, grabbing the Keeper by the shoulders, pulling them a step back when the cauldron began to hum.

There was a blinding flash of red light, and then the pot went still.

Sebastian's shoulders sagged in relief. “Merlin, thought the thing was going to explode or something.”

Giving Sebastian's hand a gentle pat, the Keeper smiled. “Well, it didn't, but I appreciate your caution.”

Returning to the tableside, the two of them peered into the cauldron and a wide victorious grin spread across the Keeper's face. “Well, looks like I was right about the combination.”

Inside the pot, was now a familiar molten liquid, rolling and swirling restlessly in defiance of gravity.

“And I was right about the ratio.” Sebastian grinned proudly and they nodded with a satisfied smirk.

“Now all we need to do is get more physical pain and we'll be able to convert the entire repository into this... complete pain energy.” The Keeper chuckled and began pulling the freshly created C-Pain energy into the empty jars.

As his partner busied themselves, Sebastian's eyes drifted over the shelfs, checking that all was in order, before his roving gaze came to a stop, resting on the jar of black inky Fear energy. Hang on...

He squinted at the jar.

Was it moving!? Sebastian quickly took the jar down and stared at it intently for a few moments.

“Hey.” Sebastian lifted his head, his brows furrowed. “The fear's... evaporating.”

“It what!?” The Keeper exclaimed, eyes widening in alarm as they set down the jar they'd been holding and snatched the jar of Fear from his hands.

Inside the glass was the unmistakable sight of black smoke rising from the inky sticky mess, and they could easily tell from the residue on the jar's sides that its contents were steadily diminishing.

“Blast. I have to test it before it dissipates then.” The Keeper frowned.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise. “Before convincing Ominis?”

“We don't know how fast this will disappear, we can't afford to wait.” The Keeper grimaced. “We'll just have to deal with that later.”

“Good luck with that.” Sebastian's tone was dry, and he caught their hand before they opened the jar. “Hold on a minute. Considering what happened with the wall, perhaps we should do this in the hallway.”

“Ah, yes, good idea.” The Keeper nodded, glancing at the jars on the shelf, before quickly leaving the room with Sebastian in tow.

Outside, the Keeper was once again faced with the question of how to consume a new type of energy. They'd gone with putting the lava-like C-Pain energy in their mouth, like they had with P-Pain, but they really weren't keen on doing that with the icky Fear, even though they knew it wasn't likely to have any taste either.

Drawing a small glob of Fear out of the jar with their wand, the Keeper hesitantly raised it towards their mouth, when said glob decided to elongate, creeping inconspicuously towards the floor, unbeknownst to them.

“Ah, dripping!” Sebastian exclaimed, drawing their attention to it.

The Keeper quickly moved to catch it with the jar and jumped when the string of goop draped across their thumb, its chill sharp and biting against their skin. To their surprise however, the black substance quickly seeped into their pores, their veins pulsing an inky dark, visible just under the surface.

Well, there was their solution then.

“Here, hold this for me.” The Keeper handed off the jar to Sebastian and lowered the rest of the glob, still attached to their wand, into their palm.

In a few moments their body completely absorbed it, the black substance vanishing entirely from sight. Almost instantly, the Keeper felt their heart rate pick up, a lot more than with physical or complete pain energy, they could hear it pounding in their ears and feel it thumping in their chest.

“Oh, okay, that's creepy.” Sebastian commented, his expression rather discomforted and his words oddly muffled in the Keeper's ears.

“What is?” They asked, the question coming out a little breathless.

“Your eyes are black.” Sebastian shuddered. “Completely. Even the whites.”

“Interesting...” The Keeper murmured. “Perhaps all the varying emotions and senses will have different effects on-”

Fuckin’ round with ‘nother bloke ey, slag?

The Keeper stiffened at the barely audible whisper, spinning to face the dark hallway stretching out behind them, their shoulders tense and their eyes darting about in search of its source.

It was empty, not a soul in sight besides Sebastian and themselves, yet that mocking voice had been unmistakable...

“What's wrong?”

Disgusting whelp.

“Lumos.” The Keeper raised their wand to illuminate the dimly lit hallways to their left and right. Where was it coming from? There was a creeping sensation prickling up along the back of their neck, a familiar feeling, the gut tightening sensation of being prey in the eyes of a predator.

Give us a good show then...

“Love?”

On your knees.

They felt it, a shift in the air, the intent of another to grasp their shoulder and force them into submission, the instinct to flee or fight.

Time slowed, every fibre of their being painfully aware of its approach as their heart pounded in their ears.

Without thinking, the Keeper's hand shot out to catch the wrist of their attacker, pulling him forward and slamming him against the wall, their other hand planted firmly between his shoulder blades.

“Ow ow ow! Merlin, I know you like it rough darling, but you gotta give me some warning.” Sebastian groaned from where he was pressed against the bricks and the Keeper immediately released him as though burned, recoiling in confusion.

“S- Sebastian?” They gasped, taking a few shaky steps backwards, their fingers trembling and their knees weak from shock.

“Oh good, you can hear me again.” Sebastian pushed himself off the wall, rubbing his wrist with a dry chuckle, skin red where they'd grabbed. “I was beginning to worry that you might not be able to see me either. Merlin knows I've enough experience with that.”

“What-” The Keeper shook their head, pressing a hand to their warm forehead, the two of them were the only ones in the hallway. Why had it felt like they were in imminent dange-

Sebastian took their hands with a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of their fingers soothingly as the black gradually faded from their eyes. “It's alright, it's probably just the Fear you took, likely as not.”

“I- yes... yes that must be it.” The Keeper took a deep breath and shook their head, trying to dispel the lingering disorientation. “Bloody hell, it felt so real... I feel like a right moron. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

They retrieved a hand to brush their thumb gently against his cheek, the soft and freckled skin slightly pink from where it'd impacted the wall.

“It'd take a lot more to injure me, I'm sure you know.” He shook his head with a cheeky grin, before it took on a wry tinge. “Those were some fast reflexes, I'll give you that. But for once, I think it might be better to abstain.”

The Keeper nodded slowly. “I think I'll agree with that sentiment... its boost to reflexes aren't worth that level of anxiety. Over such a small dose no less.”

Not to mention auditory hallucinations. Even if they became more agile, it would be useless if it made them jump at things that weren't there.

“Seems like we won't be able to store it outside a host for very long besides, not exactly a viable substance for use either ways.” Sebastian shrugged.

“...true...” The Keeper sighed. “At least we've confirmed that other emotions can also be extracted.”

“...are you going to tell Ominis about this?” Sebastian asked after a moment.

“Of course. It'd be worse if he found out later. We've done that before, Sebastian.” The Keeper raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I know, I just... I never know how to help when he's upset.” Sebastian grimaced, taking a breath. “I- it's just, it bothers me. What does it say about me that I can't comfort him after all this time? I love him so much, but I just keep saying the wrong things, sometimes I don't understand why he even likes me.”

“Because you try, because you keep trying. And you have helped. You don't succeed all the time, but he knows you're trying.” The Keeper cupped his jaw gently, placing a soft chaste kiss on his lips. “And I know, so I'm alright with helping you comfort him.”

He placed a hand over theirs, shaking his head ruefully.

“But I freeze up, I panic and open my mouth and then I blurt out the most rubbish things and make him feel worse. Aren't you tired of having to fix my mistakes too?” Sebastian murmured, peering up at them from under his lashes, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

There was that soft, vulnerable, and very much afraid boy, hidden under all that bravado. Courage was being afraid but pushing through it and trying anyway. The admiration the Keeper had for Sebastian was indescribable and it hurt to see him so insecure.

The Keeper shook their head, the need to reassure him and comfort him was strong enough, that it felt like it was crushing their heart. “Neither of us are, nor need you fear, for I never will be. Everyone's bad at some things and good at others. We're partners. That means we help each other and make up for each other's shortcomings.”

“Ominis knows better than anyone, that being unable to do one thing doesn't make you any less than another. And I know that you hate people who look down on him, for being unable to see, just as much as I do.” The Keeper pressed their forehead against his. “So, don't do it to yourself either.”

A shaky smile fought to raise the corners of Sebastian's lips and the Keeper could see that he was flustered and struggling to find a way to respond, his eyes lowering shyly.

Taking his hand, they tugged him back towards the lab. “Come on, I need to finish packing away the completed pain energy. I'd also like to try making as much of it as we can with the physical pain we've harvested so far, and I need you to help me take notes as we go.”

“Ye-” Sebastian cleared his throat, swallowing before straightening and trying again. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we can figure out the exact ratio of energy, then we'll know how much physical pain we'd need to convert the entire Repository into pain's final form.”

“Sounds like a plan, I'll be counting on you.” The Keeper flashed him a grin and was pleased to see it returned.

“Yeah. Won't let you down.” He squeezed their hand tightly and followed them into the room.

Oh, it's quite alright, they're always being all stoic, and mysterious. They never tell anyone what they're working on and now they’re not letting me see the vivariums till they’re done, such a tease. Then again, I don’t have to tell you, that’s probably something you have to deal with often enough, I don’t know how you do it. You must tell me, one of these days, how you even get them to speak more than five words at a time!

Ominis chuckled, it was indeed a little frustrating that the Keeper rarely kept him in the loop as much as he'd like, quite like Sebastian, but he supposed that could be their own pride at work as well. Both of them. Still, Poppy's words did remind him that the Keeper and Sebastian were naturally very secretive people, and that they were incomparably more honest and forthcoming with him than anyone else.

And that was a good thing.

Even if he wanted them to be more so, especially considering the effort he'd been putting into being more open to discussion and compromise.

“Ominis, we're home.”

He lifted his head, a smile forming on his lips naturally at Sebastian's voice. He might complain about his boyfriend's clinginess, and they may butt heads often, but Ominis couldn’t deny that having Sebastian close always put him at ease in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Welcome home.” Ominis set down the letter he'd been reading.

“Have you had dinner?”

The accompanying sound of the Keeper's footsteps and subsequent sensation of fingers sliding lightly along his arm, on the other hand, made his heart skip a beat. How did this person constantly manage to just do things that made him feel so off-balance? Whether it be anger or arousal, even in the second year of their relationship, he was still getting embarrassingly affected by them.

“Not yet, I was waiting for the two of you to return.” Ominis answered, feeling oddly shy about the admission, perhaps it was a result of Poppy calling out the Keeper's favouritism towards him and Sebastian.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting then.” The Keeper replied, sounding chagrined as they took a seat at the table beside him.

“Not at all, I had just finished reading Poppy's return letter myself.” Ominis shook his head.

“Then let's speak while we eat, we've got some... um, updates for you too.” Sebastian suggested, dropping into a seat as well. “Tibsy.”

As Sebastian spoke with the summoned elf and she set the table with their dinner, Ominis frowned in concern. From his words and the trepidation audible in his voice, Ominis had a feeling that those updates weren't going to be about the castle's construction progress.

“Thank you, Tibsy. You may retire for the night.” The Keeper's dismissal was followed by a soft pop as the elf left.

“So, what is it you have to tell me?” Ominis asked, finding his utensils, and using them to examine the contents of his plate. Spearing a small strip of stewed sea cucumber with his fork, he popped it into his mouth, enjoying the springy texture and flavour of the gravy it had been soaking in, before beginning to cut up the venison steak beside it.

“We've been conducting research into the extraction of elements other than pain from our remaining guest.” The Keeper began, and already Ominis was irritated. “Today I successfully extracted Fear from him.”

“Why? Such a thing is unrelated to curing Anne.” Ominis demanded, his eyes narrow, they hadn't even taken the time to consult him before doing this... “It's inviting unnecessary danger, meddling in things we needn't and wandering into unknown territory.”

“Ominis, this power I have is completely unknown. The only person researching it was a madwoman from four hundred years ago.” The Keeper sighed. “Everything is unknown and will forever be so, if I do nothing with it.”

“Omi, I know you're worried about us, but if we don't find out, no one will. Are you really okay with letting this power just disappear, allowing knowledge to remain out of reach?” Sebastian entreated, and Ominis’ jaw tightened in response.

“I am.” Ominis replied firmly. “I'd rather ‘waste’ this opportunity than lose either of you.”

“Unfortunately, we wouldn't.” The Keeper's voice was hard. “We can't. Ominis, I understand your fear, but I can't just do nothing. This power is a part of me, and I want to understand it. To understand myself. And I need you to accept this.”

Ominis’ lips tightened, and a moment of silence passed, as he bit back the itch to snap that he was constantly the one pressured to be accepting of their decisions. Even he understood that it wasn’t like they’d chosen to have this Ancient magic ability that’s more unknown than your average witch or wizard’s skillset.

“You're the only person, I think, who can find their wand just by feeling its magic. The only one whose wand helps them see, and yet you still use it.” Sebastian pointed out. “Nobody taught you, nobody could. You had to figure it out on your own.”

Ominis sighed, he couldn’t quite argue with the two of them when they put it that way. Would he stop using his wand sight simply because it was unknown and could be dangerous? ...the answer was obvious. He too had tested the capabilities of his wand's vision, straining it to its limit to try and understand his own abilities.

“I suppose I can see where you're both coming from. It's just-” Ominis’ breath caught at the fear that gnawed at the edges of his heart. “I can't lose either of you.”

“You won't, we'll be careful.” Sebastian insisted. “In fact, we were so careful that- ah.”

The Keeper sighed and Ominis frowned.

“You were...” Ominis repeated, going silent for a moment, before the knife, clenched tightly in his hand, came down abruptly, its tip stabbing into the meat of his steak with a squelch. “You already tested it!?”

“Unng- sorry.” Sebastian murmured, likely to their partner.

“It's fine... I was about to go there anyway.” The Keeper sounded very tired. Well, too fucking bad, Ominis was pretty tired too, of being treated like his opinions on the experiments didn't matter.

“Ominis.” The Keeper's warm fingers brushed against his fist as he clutched the knife, and Ominis hated how the contact immediately soothed some of his anger. “Ominis, love, please hear me out first.”

He ground his teeth but remained silent.

“The Fear energy we’d collected appeared to be evaporating. I couldn't be sure that we would be able to successfully harvest more, and we didn't know how long it would take before it disappeared entirely." The Keeper paused for a moment, before continuing in a cautious tone. “Ominis, had I believed it wouldn't take an hour to persuade you, I might have waited for you to be present. However, I'd only have reason to believe that, if you were able to trust my judgement.”

“You didn't even give me the chance!” Ominis snapped back indignantly, offended that they were making their own secrecy out to be his fault.

“Why would I, when every other time has required no less than an hour to convince you?” The Keeper replied, their voice quiet and pleading. “Love, I'm not blaming you, I'm just telling you my reasoning for my decision. I didn't think you'd give me permission in time, if at all, because I had no reason to.”

“That's-” Ominis released his fork from his left hand and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I-”

“...Ominis, I understand your fears, but I will not always have the time to seek counsel from you. I care about what you feel.” The Keeper's fingers were rubbing against his gently and it was starting to become difficult to hold on to his anger. “But if I am to do anything without making you feel like I'm intentionally hurting you by doing so, I'd need you to trust that I do care and would do my upmost to act with consideration for you.”

“I- I do! I just-” Ominis bit his lip and shook his head, he did want to. He really did. He wanted to trust them. He just couldn't get the feeling to go away, the fear of being betrayed. He didn't know how to. It was there, everywhere he looked, and he couldn’t turn away from it.

“They could have kept it from you.” Sebastian's voice shook, and Ominis wondered what was making him sound so afraid. “We could have kept it from you. Entirely. Think about it Ominis, you didn't even know we were experimenting with Fear. We could easily have kept it a secret completely. But we didn't.”

Sebastian took a deep breath before speaking in a rush, as though he were forcing the words out. “I asked them, if they were going to tell you, and they didn't even hesitate. I did. I was afraid that you'd be angry, that you'd push us away. Push me away, again. But they didn't want to betray your trust more than they feared your wrath, and neither did I.”

Ominis blanched. Fear? He'd made Sebastian afraid? Of telling him the truth?

“If you give us reason to fear being honest with you, eventually that which you fear… might become a reality.” The Keeper's voice was enviably calm, despite the gravity of their words, and Ominis was starting to feel like he was the one who'd been behaving like a hysterical woman.

“Ominis, while I understand it, it does still hurt to know that I don't have your trust.” The Keeper murmured, their voice sad. “You're not the only one who hurts when we do this.”

He flinched, that's right, he'd feel pain too if they expressed doubt of him and his love for them. He'd said the same himself when convincing the Keeper to be honest about their addiction. He'd allowed himself, in his pain, to forget that if they were being honest, his reaction in and of itself would then be causing pain as well.

“I... I'm sorry.” Ominis sighed, releasing his knife along with his anger, and taking the Keeper's hand in his own instead. “Sebastian, I- ...that helped. I couldn't change my perspective, not on my own. Thank you. Both of you.”

Ominis paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I'm... I can't say I'll always be able to take it calmly, but I do trust the both of you, or at least, I want to. And… and I’ll try to remember this the next time you tell me about something you did before getting my input.”

“Darling, it's okay if we have to do this again, because with this, you've given us reason to believe that you will trust our judgement, that under your initial panicked response, you trust that we would do what pleases you if we could.” The Keeper placed his palm against their lips, so he could feel their smile. “That all we need do is remind you.”

Ominis smiled in return, perhaps this is what he should have done when Sebastian sought to cure Anne, perhaps this was the same problem Solomon had had. He and Solomon had made Sebastian afraid to be honest with them, and all it'd done was push Sebastian to pursue a cure in secret, almost costing him Sebastian altogether.

Yet, both he and Solomon had believed full-heartedly that the dark arts would also take Sebastian away, turn him into a monster. How was he to reconcile such a dilemma? Or could he do both? Not give his lovers the impression that he would reject them outright, while still maintaining his position.

“See Seb, I told you, you do manage to say the right thing sometimes.” The Keeper chuckled, loosening their grip on Ominis’ hand.

“Ugh, I think I burned half my brain cells doing that.” Sebastian groaned, and the sound of his chair's legs creaking quietly suggested that he'd leaned against its backrest.

“Save your relief for after you tell me what happened during the test.” Ominis folded his arms. “I get the point about my needing to be careful not to scare the two of you into dishonesty. Especially when you can’t get to hear my opinion, but I'm still going to evaluate your actions and decide if I'm alright with you even continuing this experimentation to begin with.”

There was a moment of silence, before the Keeper snorted. “Fair enough.”

Leaning forward, the Keeper steepled their fingers together thoughtfully. Honestly, they were very relieved at how smoothly that had gone, they'd been concerned that it was too early to try pushing that idea to Ominis, but it seemed like it'd been the right time to do so.

Now, the question was how to present the events of the day. Since Sebastian's factual and straightforward approach had been well received...

“Well, for starters, Fear energy seems to behave like, well, fear. It didn't need much in way of extraction, all I had to do was touch it and it latched on to me, following my magic out of Selwyn.” The Keeper began, taking a bite of their now cold steak. “An hour or so after extraction, Sebastian noticed it evaporating in its jar.”

“Yeah, it was practically smoking away.” Sebastian nodded, following their lead, and returning to his food. “I suggested we perform testing outside the lab, where there was more space. Turned out to be a good choice.”

“Upon testing, it appears to induce increased heart rate and anxiety, breathing difficulties, and auditory hallucinations from... unpleasant memories. Not an experience I’d recommend.” The Keeper drawled with a grimace. “As for benefits, it seems to boost reflexes, but we've decided that such a meagre benefit is not worth consumption and I've discarded it as a source of energy.”

Ominis blinked in apparent surprise and Sebastian flashed him a wry smile. “I told you, we're being careful.”

The shadow of scepticism crossed over Ominis’ face for a brief moment, before he shook his head and smiled instead. “I'm glad to hear that the two of you at least have the sense not to take something that sounds like outright poison.”

At his words, a sharp grin spread across the Keeper's face and their eyes gleamed with dark delight. “Funny you should say that, darling, because a few hours later, we made a discovery that makes this energy extremely viable as a poison.”

Ominis seemed to shiver at their words- Sebastian too actually, and the Keeper raised an eyebrow at their reactions. What? Was it something they said?

“What-” Ominis cleared his throat, cheeks slightly pink. “What did you discover?”

Brushing the moment off, the Keeper continued. “We found this.”

The Keeper withdrew a small pouch from their pocket and turned it upside down over the table. A single black orb fell onto the wooden surface with a solid thunk, about the size of a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean, its surface pitch black, perfectly smooth, and glossy.

“The Fear wasn't simply evaporating, it was condensing.” The Keeper tapped lightly on the table where they'd dropped the orb. “I'm calling it a Fear-Pill, at the moment. Take a look, I'm curious if you'll be able to see it with your wand.”

Setting down his utensils, Ominis drew his wand, and its tip began pulsing with red light. “Hm, I can tell there's something there, yes. My wand's sight is a bit difficult to describe, but it feels like magic, like spells do when cast, just swirling about on the spot.”

“Interesting.” Sebastian hummed thoughtfully.

“We haven't tested this yet-” The Keeper quickly continued when Ominis expression became alarmed. “On Selwyn! Not on either of us.”

“Yeaaah, I know you don't think highly of our self-preservation instincts, but we're not that stupid.” Sebastian huffed. “If barely a handful can drive our fearless leader here batty, this little bugger's got to pack a hell of a punch.”

“That'll be fun to watch.” The Keeper exchanged a snide grin with Sebastian.

Ominis sighed. “Hopefully it doesn't kill him.”

“Yeah, there's bound to be a decent danger of that.” Sebastian nodded absently. “Would probably be good for you to be on standby on the First Basement floor.”

“We should probably get more Fear out of him before testing the pill, in case it kills him. Next week should do.” The Keeper turned the pouch inside out and picked up the Fear-Pill with it, before placing a hand on Ominis’ shoulder. “We'll call you if we need you.”

Ominis smiled softly. “You'd better.”

“Well, that's boring.” Sebastian commented dryly.

“Maybe it's not having any effect because the fear came from him?” The Keeper frowned down at Selwyn, who was slumped over in his chair, jaw still hanging agape after they'd forced the Fear-Pill down his gullet.

“Oi, Selwyn.” The Keeper kicked lightly at his leg, expecting him to react, to attempt to fight or flee despite being chained to the chair. They'd become fast enough to catch Sebastian's hand in mid-air after consuming the Fear-Pill, but Selwyn's body showed no sign of any change, his eyes weren't even black.

Then again, his eyes weren't just not-black, they also weren't moving. At all.

On closer inspection, his wide eyes were completely vacant and didn't even react to their words or actions. Which was definitely not natural, creepily so. Perhaps...

The Keeper drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Huh, no defences again- the thought had barely crossed their mind, when the Keeper was forcefully pulled into a memory, flinching when they were hit with a wave of pain and the sound of muffled screaming.

They had been expecting it to a certain extent, but they’d pegged the boy as an entitled and pampered rich kid, one with perhaps some bad memories of being denied candy. They certainly hadn't expected to see violence, much less someone fucking Selwyn's ass raw into an expensive looking carpet.

“P- please, brother- stop- it hurts... I'm sorry-”

Yeap, that was a mental image the Keeper could have done without. They exited his mind immediately.

“How'd it look?” Sebastian asked as the Keeper came back to themselves.

“Horrible, he's in a waking nightmare.” They grimaced in disgust. “Seems like he's been sexually violated by his brother before, and the pill is making him relive his traumatic memories.”

Sebastian's eyebrows climbed into his fringe. “Huh. That's darker than I expected, I'd feel bad for him if he hadn't attempted to murder you a million times.”

“Does make sense I suppose. Monsters are made by other monsters...” The Keeper murmured, thinking of Isidora, of Ranrok, of themselves, of Ominis and Sebastian.

A heartless witch created by negligent mentors, a vindictive monster created by racism, a cannibal created by a corrupt system, a rabid cornered animal created by an abusive family and a sadist created by a callous uncle. They were all monsters by society's standards, in one way or another, but they hadn't appeared out of nowhere, they were a product of a world of monsters.

But the Keeper was fine with being a monster, they would simply chain two to their side and devour the rest. Perhaps then the world would have less monsters in general.

“Macnair probably had something too.” The Keeper mused as they holstered their wand, frowning thoughtfully. Well, Tynx was out on a grocery run so... “Tibsy.”

The elf popped into the cell and gave them a nervous bow. “Yes, Master?”

“Monitor him and record the time that he exits his stupor.” They gestured at Selwyn. “Don't worry, he can't hurt you while chained to the chair.”

“Yes, Master.” Tibsy squeaked, bowing again and the Keeper turned to leave the cell, before she quickly called after them. “Oh, Master, Tibsy was being helpings to Sir Ominis with brewings...”

“Oh, is that so? Thank you for letting me know.” The Keeper blinked. “Come on, Sebastian. We were planning to update Ominis anyway.”

“Do you really have to?” Ominis heaved a sigh.

“Well, mixing emotional and physical pain created an enhanced version of pain. So surely adding fear would only enhance it further, or at least give us something new.” Sebastian reasoned, and Ominis’ lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry for summoning Tibsy in the middle of helping you brew.” The Keeper smiled sheepishly.

“It's fine.” Ominis shook his head with another long-suffering sigh. “Just- just be careful, alright?”

“Of course, Sebastian can help you with brewing while I play around with the energies.” The Keeper gave him a kiss on the cheek before striding to their potions station leaning against the wall to the right of Ominis’.

Setting up the station like before, the Keeper dumped half a jar of completed and combined C-Pain into the cauldron, before opening a jar of liquid fear, labelled L-Fear, which they'd extracted before they'd given Selwyn the Fear-Pill. A majority of it had already solidified but there was still about half a jar worth of liquid remaining.

They'd found that the necessary ratio for C-Pain was equal amounts of E-Pain and P-Pain. As such, they'd attempt to reach the same ratio for L-Fear and C-Pain today. Drawing out the Fear with their wand, the Keeper grimaced as the sticky black slime began its slow descent into the cauldron.

The instant that the Fear's black tendrils touched the bubbling red and black lava however, the substance reacted violently, hissing, and bubbling angrily.

A beat passed, before a shock wave blasted out from the cauldron, knocking the Keeper's wand and the jar of liquid Fear from their hands, sending both flying in two directions.

It almost felt like time slowed, the Keeper watching in horror as the jar of Fear flew in the direction of Sebastian and Ominis at the station to their left.

No. The Keeper's chest tightened, this was their fault. Neither Sebastian nor Ominis should ever be touched by Fear, they wouldn't allow it. They wouldn't allow either of their lovers to be forced into anything approaching the nightmare that Selwyn was trapped within.

Reaching a hand towards the boys in desperation, the Keeper shouted. “Protego!”

At the same time, turning to look at the sounds, Sebastian spotted the incoming jar, and immediately realised that there wasn't enough time for him to cast anything or pull Ominis out of the way. Instead, he placed his back in the path of the black liquid spilling out of the jar, covering the other boy in his arms as he braced for impact.

Only for the sound of shattering glass to follow.

Opening his eyes tentatively, Sebastian raised his head, his breath heavy as he looked behind him, surprised to see the black ink sliding down a protego shield and the Keeper behind it, their open palm raised towards him and Ominis. The shield flickered for a moment, before disappearing, allowing the glass and Fear to slide to the floor.

“Are- are you two alright?” The Keeper gasped, their chest heaving.

“Y- yeah...” Sebastian nodded, his eyes wide. “Did you just- did you just cast wandless magic?”

“I... I suppose I did.” The Keeper blinked, lowering their hand to stare at their own palm.

“What happened?” Ominis demanded, his tone contrasting with the way he clutched at Sebastian's arm, looking somewhat like a spooked deer.

“The energy... reacted explosively.” The Keeper explained, taking a few steps around the mess on the floor to embrace the two boys. “I'm sorry. I should have been more careful.”

They'd need to put up a shield around the cauldron next time. The Keeper breathed a sigh of relief, cradling Ominis’ head against their left shoulder and Sebastian's against their right. That had been close, too close. Both of the boys had more than enough traumatic memories, a Fear stupor would be absolutely awful for either.

It was one thing for them to hurt themselves for their goals, and another to hurt their treasured ones. Not even the greatest power was worth that.

“What are the chances you'll finally stop this insanity?” Ominis mumbled, his words muffled against the Keeper's tunic.

“...next to none, I'm afraid.” The Keeper grimaced, stroking a hand over his hair. “I will take more precautions however, you have my word.”

With a sigh, Ominis shook his head. “And if someone gets hurt the next time something unexpected goes wrong?”

“...we'll just have to be three steps ahead. I won't waste this lesson.” The Keeper replied firmly, turning to press their lips to the side of Ominis’ head. They could still feel the tension in his body, but he sighed again and seemed to relent.

“Sebastian said... did you cast a wandless protego?” Ominis asked instead, changing the topic, and trying to lift his head from their shoulder, only for the Keeper to force it back down. They weren't ready to let him go just yet. He gave a soft amused huff against their collar and remained still.

“Yeah. I- I think my wand's somewhere on the other side of the room.” The Keeper murmured.

“You're absolutely crazy.” Sebastian chuckled. “Ancient magic, wandless magic, it'd make more sense if you were the reincarnation of Merlin himself.”

Ominis made a thoughtful sound. “...children usually start learning magic with wands at eleven, while their cores are still too weak to wield proper magic…”

Sebastian hummed. “Oh, that's right, maybe it’s because you’ve only just started using a wand. So, not only is your core already fully grown, your body hasn’t become reliant on wands yet.”

The Keeper took a last breath of their mingling scents before releasing the boys. “Sounds reasonable to me...”

Casting their eyes about, the Keeper spotted their wand lying by the wall across the room and stretched their hand out towards it. “Accio.”

To their delight, their wand did in fact, move towards them. To their disappointment however, it did so in a slow and sluggish roll across the floor, like a ball in Summoner's Court, before stopping an entire meter away from their feet.

“Well, guess there has to be something you're not a natural at.” Sebastian grinned wryly, sounding oddly pleased about that.

“Isn't Onai- I mean, Natty, from Uagadou? I heard they don't use wands there. Perhaps she would be willing to teach you.” Ominis suggested.

“That's a good idea, I've seen her use wandless magic before too, I'll ask her about it.” They nodded.

Wandless magic, huh. The Keeper grinned, excellent. Another weapon in their arsenal.

Notes:

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Chinese Water Torture was first described in the late 15th or early 16th century by Hippolytus de Marsiliis, an Italian chap, so it's prooooobably not Chinese, but who knows man.

I don't like the ‘hysterical woman’ stereotype, but unfortunately it's the kind of thing a man in the 1800s would think. So, please note that that mental comment from Ominis is only there because of time-appropriate sexism, not because I'm endorsing that kind of mentality.

I think that it is no coincidence that in Hogwarts Legacy's story, thrice is a character denied support and given rebukes for their pursuits (Isidora, Sebastian and Natty) and all three of those times, the character pursues it anyway, just on their own rather than with supervision and guidance. Which is far worse than letting the person pursue it and just being there to support them and guide them.

Many parents fail in the same way, at balancing the danger of letting a kid do what they want and letting them make mistakes vs forcing them to not with an iron fist. I believe that if Professor Rackham hadn't shut Isidora down, he might have been able to guide her off the path, same for Solomon and Sebastian, and Onai and Natty.

The difference between Isidora and Sebastian (and Natty), was that Isidora didn't have a friend who refused to give up on her and a friend who was walking her path with her. MC and Ominis are the reason Sebastian has the option of a good end- I mean, the reason Sebastian gets a good ending. (Another ending? Where he gets turned in? No clue what you're talking about, there is only one ending.)

Also, dunno if you guys remember but in Part 2, chapter 5, Ominis used the “Don't you trust us?” guilt trip on the Keeper too, so they're just uno reversing it back on him haha

There's also a curious conflict between your average person and an explorer. Explorers are, by the common man's mind, insane. To risk all and everything for an endeavour that may end in absolutely nothing or even backfire. Yet humanity's greatest achievements have been from such adventurers with more curiosity than fear.

It is fascinating, the intersection between the people who must have wished their loved ones stayed in their boring everyday life rather than lost it in search of the literal unknowable and the adventurers themselves. I find that I relate well to both, the desire to preserve happiness and the urge to seek the unknown at the risk of it.

Both desires have been at constant war within me since I was a kid, and I have a feeling that I am not alone in this internal conflict. So, it is honestly fun to write such perspectives into different characters and pit them against each other xD

[thatonethimbo]

Thatonethimbo's fic + important stuff masterlist (Will be edited as we go)

My rules

All fics here, unless stated otherwise, are GN!Reader

PBB

PBB fic w/ Reader Insert

The World Gets Colder, Bit By Bit (Route 14 fic) [Pt. 1]

Contrasting States (Route 14 fic, cont) [Pt. 2]

The Frost Bites With No Teeth (Route 14 fic, final) [Pt.3]

Tess x Reader HCs + Oneshot

LL: VOS

''what the jake doin' ''

Crystallized, Under The Weight of The Nothingness [Pt. 1]

Crystallized, Under The Weight of The Nothingness [Pt. 2]

HCs (PBB)

Chad + Quenton

Art (PBB)

My version of the PBB protagonist

Bermuda Autism Creechure

Double-Edged Fate

The Bottle and The Brick

Museums Hold Not Only History But Also Danger

I got banned from Roblox for 1 day (but here's some art)

Ninjago

Ninjago fic w/ reader insert and x gn!reader

Lachesis (Hurt/comfort) Time Twins

A Random Nya x Reader

Shackles Broken, Enemy Awoken

Brookestone Family Recipe

Best Golden Weapon Poll

Trust Rusts Away Into Distrust (Ch. 1)

Art (Ninjago)

''Inaccurate'' Kai

[liquorisce]

don't stop, said she ch 3

rating: E, 18+ only

pairing: eren x mikasa, snk

summary: "... Turn around, my love. I want you to see what I see, when I fuck you."

part 3 of my smut anthology for eremika smut week 2021 on twitter.

a/n: this chapter was ENTIRELY inspired by hanpetos-sama and their glorious artwork (https://twitter.com/hanpetos/status/1413173032483540996?s=20)

i literally could not function after seeing that, and simply had to write this that same night (just took me a while to edit)

read on ao3 | pt 2 | pt 1

Mikasa looks beautiful in black.

Eren’s gaze is appreciative of it, from the other side of the room - the black fabric that clings delicately to the curve of her body, teasing milky slopes and sliding temptingly open across her pale thighs. The satin drapes wide across her collar, all the way down to a pleasing v down her breasts.

There’s a delightful darkness in the green of his eyes, a hunger that makes her feel things - so she’s careful to avoid his gaze in the mirror, focusing deliberately on the plum shade that she applies to her lips. (but the faintest red flush on her cheeks gives away her awareness)

She closes her eyes when he walks up behind her, his lips dropping a faint kiss on the back of her neck, hands deceptively gentle on her waist. “Hm,” she smiles, a slight shiver running through her.

Something about how delicate she feels, leaning back against him involuntarily as she shivers under his lightest touch, makes him feel possessive, his hands sliding roughly up the (very) short hem of her dress, fingers squeezing against the curve of her ass.

He meets her grey eyes watching him in the reflection. She’s amused (and aroused), and something about her amusement riles him up. “Something funny?” he asks, fingers rising to the knot holding the flimsy fabric together.

“Hmm,” she mumbles, distracted by his lips on her nape, “... We have a reservation, you know.”

He nibbles on the sensitive portion of her neck, just beneath her jaw, where she’s prone to being marked (where he’s prone to marking her), “... you hungry?”

He meets her gaze in their reflection, and she blushes under the heat of it.

“...I can feed you, if you’re that hungry,” he murmurs, and she can feel herself grow faint. She’s weak to the way he talks to her, in that way of his, like he knows what she likes (controls it), what affects her, knows how to use it against her.

Oh, and how it affects her. He feels her go weak against him, sighing, “Eren...” Regardless, when his hands untie the knot on her dress (without much effort, as if it was meant to come apart under his fingers), her hands move to stop him, without thinking.

He stills instantly, green eyes narrowing at her. “... You want me to stop, huh. I can stop.” He moves away from her, hands off of her hips, her waist, his lips so far away from the skin he was suckling, and Mikasa almost whines. - “I didnt’t mean” -

“Didn’t mean, what? Didn’t want me to strip you of that dress?”

He states his intentions simply, and it makes her burn, makes her feel heat in all the places that come alive only when she’s near him. She doesn’t know how he does it, because all she can do is mumble desperately - “I didn’t want you to stop,” -

“... Fine, then you do it.” Her eyes grow wide, “... Take off that dress for me, Mikasa.”

He watches her shamelessly, expectantly, and it just makes her comply, makes her slip nervous fingers into the knot, and loosen the tie that holds her modesty together. When she clutches the folds of her dress together, shyly, she looks up at him, and he chuckles.

“No underwear, huh,” he tries to keep it cool, but there’s an edge to his voice, because the sight that she presents is mouth watering, smooth skin from her breasts to her navel, to the part of her that she hides with the shy cross of her legs. “Take it off,” he rasps, looking impatiently at the garb around her shoulders and even though she’s embarrassed and aroused, she’s always found it so, so easy to listen to him.

And it’s the fact that his own hands are busy, busy undoing the buckle of his pants, sliding down the zipper, that makes her turn towards to him, eagerly, saying, “... let me,” -

“... I didn’t ask you to, my love,” he says, smoothly, and her cheeks burn. “... Turn around, I want you to see what I see when i fuck you.” He sees the startled recognition in her eyes when she understands what he means, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip nervously.

She turns to see herself in the mirror and indeed, she can see what he sees - herself, naked, embarrassed, and horribly aroused.

He moves back to make himself comfortable on the bed, legs spread lazily, a languid fist curled around his cock, stroking. His eyes linger blatantly where they please, dark green and salacious, first on the curves of her breasts, then on the swell of her ass. There's something about the way he's watching her, flagrantly sexual and hungry and it makes her rub her thighs together.

He notices.

"Wow you really want it, huh?" He coos, more affected than he lets on, pupils dilating in arousal. He strokes himself harder, slick with precum. "Look at you, Mikasa, I can see you dripping down your thighs…"

And sure enough she was… wet and dripping and desperate for him.

"... You want me to touch you, don't you?"

And even though it's embarrassing, it's downright humiliating, the way he asks this question, with the absolute assurance that she does in fact want him to touch her, wants him to hold her, and kiss her, and fill her up in the quickest way -

"... Then touch yourself. Touch yourself the way you want me to."

"... Eren, I can't possibly…"

Because she can't, she knows, she can touch herself for hours but it will never compare to the way he touches her, careless almost, sometimes delicate, sometimes rough, seeking his own pleasure - no, her fingers reach down to her pussy and she uses her fingers with a delicateness she doesn't need, because she's wet and wanting, and so very ready.

But he wants a show, and he demands it, murmuring, "... I want you to spread yourself for me, Mikasa."

The way I do, he says, with his eyes, his lustful gaze, and Mikasa can feel it, feels the way his fingers would spread her folds, feels the way they'd linger to take in the sight of it.

So she spreads her legs, hesitantly, spreading her pussy for him, showing him what he wants to see. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, neck arched, breasts thrusting into the air, and she shudders.

"... Show me how I'd fuck you, show me with your fingers, my love."

It's hypnotic the way he says it, and the way she just grows wetter and wetter with everything he says. She's pumping two fingers now, in and out of her, lips parted in pretty gasps. He watches her give into his commands (even when he asks her to add a third, and he sees her struggle), and he can feel himself pulse as he jerks himself erratically with his fist.

He's worked up and slick with his own arousal, but he spares a thought for a moment about how Mikasa would be happy to (as she offered earlier) lube him up with her mouth, and stroke him, with hands and lips, and sheer adoration… and choke on his dick till he couldn't take it anymore.

But this is special so he suffers it - special because he likes to watch her, likes to watch her reflection, likes to watch the humiliation on her face when she sees herself obey him so thoroughly, fingering herself and sucking on her own fingers.

It pleases him to the point where he's rock hard and he doesn't even know why - doesn't know if it's her devotion, her obedience, her body or her overwhelming beauty. It's too much - and when she sees her shudder, sees her cheat (because he never gave her permission to cum), he stalks over to her and pushes her against the closet door.

"... Enough," he murmurs, voice thick with arousal, and he sees her eyes open hazily, gasping, tears pricking the corners of her eyes at having escaped her almost impending orgasm.

Eren has a stray thought, about just how precious she looks, and how appealing it would be to experiment more with orgasm denial, to watch her consistently get worked up only to be frustrated again.

But that's a thought for a different time, because now all he can think about is just how much he wants her, because he's worked up beyond measure from the tantalizing show she put on moments earlier.

She gets on her knees without even him having to ask (he loves it), and when she reaches to take him in her mouth, he stops her.

"... Cup your breasts for me, Mikasa."

Her fingers squeeze tentatively around her breasts, bringing them up to him, nipples crushed by her fingers, a tempting offering that makes his mouth go dry. "... Like this?" She asks, looking up at him, flushed.

He doesn't really know what he's doing, doesn't know what comes over him, but he slaps his dick against her soft breast, and a delicious tingle runs through him. "Come closer to me," he rasps, and he reaches for her head, pulling her towards him until he's pressing his cock into her silky mounds. He jerks into her desperately, and he can't help but groan at the sensation, the sheer temptation of it all.

"Wait…," she says, and she moves back to look at him shyly, before she uses her own saliva to lubricate the slopes of her tits. She's glistening, but it's so dirty, and it always amazes him that this beautiful, perfect, woman is so happy to debase herself for him. "I've been wanting to try this," she admits, pressing her tits together, looking up at him, skin gleaming and flushed.

It takes him only a second to understand, and it turns him on more than he could ever admit. But he wants to push her, take her just a little bit farther so he says, "what have you been wanting to try?"

She stutters for a moment, but says, quickly, before she chickens out, "I want to make you feel good… like this." And she proceeds to show him exactly what she means.

It's sensory overload for him when she takes him between her mounds, sweet pressure and a delicious friction, and a look on her face that drives him over the edge. He tells her what he likes ("... Hold them together, Mikasa," he groans, "up and down, yes, just like that."), and she complies, licking the tip of him when she can, stopping to make sure she's lubricated enough for him.

"... Open your mouth," he commands, when he feels himself building, having already left a glistening trail of precum in the valley between her breasts.

"Beg me for it, Mikasa," he pants, jerking furiously, holding off only because he needs to hear her, "... tell me how much you want my cum."

She's still cupping her breasts, kneeling in front of him, and she wants him in more ways than one, wants to taste him and savour it, so she says, breathlessly, "... I want to drink it."

"Feed me, Eren," she begs, and it shocks her just how needy she sounds, like she needs his release as much as her own, "... cum inside my mouth, please," -

"... Open your mouth, I want to see your tongue," he breathes harshly, and the sight of her kneeling obediently, lips parted, tongue peeking out wantonly, drives him over the edge, and he spills into her, lets his release pool into her open mouth, as he shudders with pleasure.

It drips down the side of her chin, and when he's caught his breath, he murmurs hoarsely, "... You can swallow," and she does, beautifully.

He collapses onto the floor beside her, resting against the closet door. She smiles at him, pretty, and naked and thoroughly sticky thanks to him, "... I guess you fed me after all, huh."

"Yeah," he whispers, dropping a kiss to her cheek, "... but later, it's my turn to have dessert."

a/n: "author-san, when will you write eren and mikasa actually fucking?!"

*hides*