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cece693 · 3 months ago

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Stupid Crush (Nico di Angelo x Son of Poseidon)

This was something that suddenly came to mind and I couldn't help myself :) Hope you enjoy it.

Summary: It wasn't just the fact that Nico had to reveal his crush on Percy in front of Cupid, but when your boyfriend, the twin brother of said boy, was also in attendance, Nico's life was destroyed.

tags: Nico confesses his crush on Percy, however he's dating you, reader is Percy's twin brother, things get angsty 😈

Nico’s heart pounded in his chest as Cupid’s mocking voice echoed around them, his magic coiling around Nico's soul like a noose. Jason stood on one side, his blue eyes wide with concern, while you—Percy’s twin brother and Nico’s boyfriend—were on the other. Cupid’s voice dripped with cruel amusement, cutting through the silence like a knife. "The truth, Nico di Angelo. Tell them who once held your heart."

Nico’s throat closed up, his worst nightmare unraveling before his eyes. This was the moment he had fought so hard to avoid—the truth he had buried deep within himself, even from you. But there was no escape now. Cupid’s magic tightened, pulling the confession from his lips like a venomous secret. "I…" Nico’s voice cracked, his fists trembling as he clenched them at his sides. "Percy Jackson."

The air in the room shifted. Your breath hitched, but Nico couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He knew what he would see—shock, hurt, betrayal, the crumbling of the trust you'd built together. The pain he’d been dreading. "What?" Your voice came out in a cold, broken whisper.

Nico swallowed hard, staring at the floor. "It was before I met you, before Percy got with Annabeth. I thought—" He stopped, the words turning to ash in his mouth.

But you could read between the lines. Now everything made sense, how Nico easily allowed you to befriend him; you weren't special, just a boy who shared the same face as someone Nico loved. Loves. "So, let me get this straight. You're only with me because my brother didn't return your feelings? Am I just your consolation prize?"

Nico’s head snapped up, panic swelling in his chest. "No! No, it’s not like that!"

Your eyes narrowed, fury replacing the initial shock. "Really?" you spat, taking a step toward him. "Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you settled for me when you couldn’t have Percy."

Nico’s voice wavered as he pleaded, desperate to make you understand. "I didn’t settle! I chose you because I love you. That crush…it was stupid. It doesn’t mean anything anymore!"

But Cupid’s laughter echoed again, cruel and jagged like shattered glass. "Ah, but old feelings never truly die, do they, son of Hades?" The god’s voice teased, his presence hanging over them like a storm. "You can hide it, bury it, but the truth always has a way of surfacing." Nico had never wanted to strike down a god as much as he did now. "Now that the truth is out," Cupid continued, his mocking tone fading as his presence disappeared, "I'll leave you to deal with the consequences."

Silence fell, but the weight of Cupid’s words lingered like a blade pressed against Nico’s throat.

"You played me." Your voice, thick with unshed tears, barely above a whisper but laced with so much pain that it felt like a physical blow. "You say you love me, but if Percy hadn't chosen Annabeth…if he had even shown the slightest interest in you, would you still have ended up with me?"

Nico froze, the question like a dagger to his chest. He wanted to deny it, to say that nothing would have changed the way he felt about you. Perhaps your friendship did arise from some misguided crush on Percy, but as time progressed, Nico fell in love with you. You. But even then it took time for him to distance who you and Percy were, sometimes it even stunned him how much you were alike, so if Percy did magically return his feelings, would Nico fall for you? His silence seemed to confirm your suspicions as your expression hardened.

"That’s what I thought."

Jason stepped forward, trying to break the tension. "Guys, come on. Maybe we should—"

"Stay out of it!" You snapped, your voice sharp enough to make him flinch. Jason took a step back, helplessly looking between you both, understanding that this was something beyond his control.

Nico reached out, desperate to grab your hand, to stop you from slipping further away, but you recoiled. "Don’t." Your voice was quiet but firm, the finality in that one word shattering the last bit of hope Nico had. "Just…don’t."

Nico could only watch as you turned away, disappearing into the shadows. Jason hesitated for a moment before following after you, leaving Nico alone in the cold, empty chamber, the weight of what he had just lost settling deep in his bones.

When the three of you returned to the Argo II, the change in atmosphere was immediate. Gone was your usual bright demeanor, replaced by hollow eyes and the kind of blank expression that spoke of barely contained pain. Nico, too, was different. His usual quiet presence had shifted into something darker—his shoulders slumped under the weight of regret, his face pale as if he were just moments away from breaking.

The others exchanged worried glances but said nothing as you silently headed toward your cabin. The slam of the door reverberated through the ship, causing everyone to flinch, even Nico, whose eyes lingered on the door as if willing it to open and for everything to go back to how it had been. But it wouldn’t.

Hazel was the first to break the silence. "What happened?" she asked, her voice soft, her gaze fixed on Nico. When he didn’t respond, avoiding her eyes, she looked to Jason, who merely shook his head, pity etched across his features. "Nico," Hazel pressed gently, her worry growing. "You can talk to us."

But Nico didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped back, letting the shadows around him rise, and within moments, he was gone—leaving the others standing in silence.

Days had passed, but to Nico, each one felt like an eternity. Every hour that dragged on without your voice, without your gaze meeting his, was a torment he hadn’t anticipated. The coldness that had settled between you was suffocating. Whenever Nico approached, even just to be in the same room, you’d find some excuse to leave. He could sense it, the way you tensed whenever he was nearby, the way you averted your gaze, as if looking at him was too painful. And that hurt more than anything—knowing he was the cause of it.

The others noticed the growing distance between you two. The worried glances exchanged over meals, the whispers behind his back. Jason and Hazel, in particular, kept trying to reach out, but Nico had shut himself off. What could he say? How could he explain the rift when the mere thought of it made his chest ache? Even Leo, who usually cracked jokes at the dinner table, had grown more subdued, as if the tension in the air had smothered his usual cheer.

Nico couldn’t bear it anymore. He had to fix this—he had to at least try. He couldn’t stand the silence, the void that had replaced the closeness they once shared. So, one night, when the Argo II drifted quietly through the sky and everyone had retreated to their cabins, Nico ventured out onto the deck. The night was cool, the stars twinkling above like distant, indifferent observers to his misery. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.

You were there—alone, standing at the edge of the ship, staring out into the horizon. For a moment, Nico just watched you, his heart aching at how much he missed simply being near you. He could almost imagine everything was fine—that you were waiting for him, that you’d smile when he approached, kiss his forehead, and mention how he needed to take better care of himself.

Gathering his courage, Nico stepped forward, his footsteps soft against the deck. "Can we talk?"

You stiffened at his voice, but didn’t turn around. For a few agonizing moments, there was nothing but silence. Then, with a sigh, you spoke, your voice devoid of the warmth Nico so desperately missed. "I don’t know what there is left to say."

Nico’s heart sank, but he pressed on. "Please, just let me explain."

At that, you turned to face him, and Nico saw the exhaustion in your eyes. The sleepless nights, the weight of betrayal, all of it etched into your features. "Explain what, Nico?" Your voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a coldness that made his chest tighten. "That you were in love with my brother? That you settled for me? That I wasn't your first choice? Do you think words are going to fix this?"

"No," Nico whispered, stepping closer, his voice strained with the weight of everything he wanted to say. "No, I don’t think words can fix it. But I never meant to hurt you. I—" He paused, swallowing hard, trying to find the right words. "It was a crush. A stupid, meaningless crush. I didn’t choose you because of Percy. I chose you because of you."

Your eyes flickered with something—anger, hurt, betrayal—but you didn’t waver. "Then why didn’t you deny it when I asked you? Why didn’t you just say that nothing could have changed how you felt about me? Why did you hesitate?"

Nico opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. He hadn’t known what to say back then, and even now, he was at a loss. How could he explain that moment of doubt without sounding like the worst kind of person?

"You see?" You shook your head, your expression hardening. "You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell me that I wasn’t just second best. But, do you know what hurts the most? It’s not just that you had feelings for Percy. It’s that a god had to force you to tell the truth. If Cupid hadn’t intervened…how long would you have strung me along? How long would I have been in the dark while you carried this secret? Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I—" Nico started, his voice faltering. "I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I didn’t want you to get hurt. It was just a crush. Something stupid. And I thought I’d gotten over it, I swear." He took a step closer, his eyes pleading with you to understand. "I grew a crush on Percy when we were younger—when I first came to camp. He was the hero. Brave, kind...everything I wasn’t. And I thought, maybe if I could be near him, maybe I’d feel like I belonged."

Nico’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he remembered those days, the confusion, the hope, and the loneliness that had followed. "But it wasn’t real. Not like what I feel for you. Percy was this…this idea in my head, someone I admired from afar. But you—" His voice broke, his eyes locking onto yours with desperation. "You were real. You saw me for who I am, all the broken parts, and still cared. What I feel for you isn’t some crush or fantasy. It’s love. I love you."

You shook your head, your face twisted with both anger and pain. "But how am I supposed to believe that, Nico? After everything? How do I know you aren’t still lying to yourself or to me? You say it’s love, but how do I trust that?"

Nico felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him. He couldn’t lose you—he couldn’t. "I’m not lying," he insisted. "I swear it. On the River Styx, on my mother, on Bianca—on everything I hold dear—I love you. I don’t care about Percy anymore. What I had for him was nothing compared to what I feel for you."

The solemn weight of Nico’s oath filled the air, the magic of the River Styx sealing his words, making them unbreakable. The sky seemed to darken for a moment, a rumble of thunder far in the distance, confirming the binding nature of his vow.

But you didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. Your eyes, once filled with love, now only reflected the deep wounds left behind. "Maybe you believe that, Nico," you said softly, but the coldness in your voice made it clear that something between you had shifted, something that could never be undone. "But I can’t anymore. I can’t keep going, wondering if I’ll ever fully have your heart. Because that shadow—the one you said lingered over you—it’ll always be there, won’t it?"

Nico’s breath hitched, the weight of your words crushing him. He wanted to scream, to beg, to prove that you were wrong. That there was no shadow, no lingering doubt in his heart. But his silence, that hesitation back in Cupid’s lair, had already broken something vital between you. And now, no matter what he swore on, no matter how much he begged, you didn’t believe him anymore.

Tears pricked at Nico’s eyes as he realized that he was losing you, that you had already made up your mind. "Please…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please don’t go."

You looked at him for a long, painful moment, and Nico thought—hoped—that maybe there was still a chance. But then, you shook your head, and turned away, leaving him standing there, the solemn weight of his oath ringing hollow in the night air. Nico felt the cold wind biting at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness that had settled deep within him as he watched you walk away. Alone, once again.

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sitp-recs · 2 months ago

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I grew up as Draco/Hermione shipper (since I was very young) but when I last reread HP, I became Harry/Draco shipper! I can't explain why I used to be Dramione shipper (when all the vibes are always between Harry and Draco). Now, I realized that Hermione is still my fav characters but I don't ship her with anyone now (since I was young, I always dislike Romione ship and hate it when that ship was canon at the end). Sorry for my rant.

Thanks so much for your Drarry fics recs! Can, I ask for Drarry fics where Hermione have an important role, too? Oh yeah, between Harry and Draco, who do think is the one who fell first and fell harder?

Hi anon! I’ve never been into Dramione myself, but I feel like the Dramione -> Drarry pipeline is very common in this fandom! I also love Hermione as a character (I don’t identify with her as much as I used to as a kid, but I still find her fascinating and love seeing her portrayed as a complex, layered character in fic!). Despite also loving Ron and the “idea” of them together, I don’t care much for canon straight ships in general so I tend to read her in femslash pairings. Nothing wrong with that, the heart wants what the heart wants :)

I’m reccing some of my favorite Drarry fics with Mione as a relevant character, I hope you enjoy these. As for your last question, I’m super flexible with those headcanons because I’ve read all kinds of tropes and loved them all! Personally, I lean towards the idea that Draco fell first and Harry fell harder ☺️ what about you??

Intelligence by aideomai (T, 6k)

“I don’t believe it,” Ginny said, voice low with venom and fury. “Did you know?” “I knew there was a spy,” Hermione said.

Find The Balance by lauren3210, Obliviate_Amores (M, 15k)

After Harry gives Draco his wand and goes back to using his own, they both start having trouble making them work. Finding out why is a lot simpler than fixing the problem.

Turn From Stone by @harryromper (M, 45k)

Harry knows there’s nothing he can do to stop Hermione (war hero, historian, author of the reissued “Hogwarts: A History”) once she sets her mind to something. Even an extremely risky last-ditch effort to restore the ancient castle and lay its newest ghosts to rest. What he wasn’t counting on was her insistence that Draco Malfoy be part of the plan.

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by @aibidil (E, 80k)

In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 85k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

From Ashes by Caedes12 (E, 150k)

When Draco comes back for eighth year, he starts an unexpected friendship with Hermione Granger. Between his new friendship and his parents kicking him out of the house, Draco's life starts down a new path.

#asks #anon #drarry recs #fics with hermione as a main character

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aftgficrec · 3 months ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you know of any fics that explore the friendship between Andrew and Kevin? Especially how they became close after Kevin came to the Foxes with a broken hand. I just think their friendship is so interesting, and I am so curious about how it started. Thank you!

@lynntjeeee and @sayonara-you-weeaboo-shits: These asks overlapped, so we combined them and separated fic types with subheads. The last ones under ‘you may also like’ don’t fit neatly but still hold the main ideas found in pre canon Kevin & Andrew stories. Unfortunately most are not very long. -A

also see:

‘a foxhole collection…’ Chapter 30 here

‘The gentle violence of loving you’ and ‘I Don't Know How to Breathe’ here

‘I came for the safety (stayed 'cause you made me feel)’ here

‘Searchlights’ here

‘Trust Me’ here

you may also like:

higher ground by darkoceanbottom [Rated T, 6085 Words, Complete, 2021]

Kevin Day and identity.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: canonical character death

Roaring Like Beasts Full Of Rage by Sashe [Rated E, 30713 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

The PSU Foxes' luck takes a turn when they take in the Raven's injured goalkeeper Andrew Doe. Andrew isn't exactly happy to be there, treated as a spectacle by the media, an outcast by his new team and a let down by the family that never wanted him. He's especially not happy about the new striker recruit, who no one else seems to think is supicious. or Roleswap canon divergent where Raven!Andrew has a broken hand and Wymack has been raising Kevin.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced psychological abuse, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: panic attacks

The Truth Hurts Worse by mcmeasle [Rated T, 2742 Words, Complete, 2024]

Kevin chattered on as Andrew opened the door and tuned out the cadence of his voice, Kevin’s full attention on Andrew. Immediately, Andrew locked on to the man with bright red hair sitting in his desk chair, feet thrown on top of the desk with ankles crossed, tapping an impressive looking knife blade over his fingertips. “Welcome home,” the stranger said cheerily, a sharp smile wending its way onto his lips, icy blue eyes locked onto Andrew. —- Or Butcher!Neil makes a house call

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

decline of the empire by drewdrugs [Rated T, 1507 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2024]

Kevin embraced the idea that, even he had never been taught by his father, he was learning to lose now. The structures of his coliseum were crumbling and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. This time, Andrew couldn't do anything for him. Or at least that's what he believed.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm

NB: this last one is the culmination of Kevin & Andrew’s deal from the very beginning

Interesting by ashestoashes7 [Rated T, 6632 Words, Complete, AFTG 2024 Olympics]

Andrew decided to make the Exy Olympic Finals more interesting. No one else knew what to do with that, not even his own teammates, but Andrew and boredom was a recipe for the unexpected. After all, it was not every day a goalkeeper slammed the ball down the court and bathed the opposition in red.

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readingandwritingandreading · 9 months ago

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Long Time Coming ~ Part 10

My Blurb: We have reached the end of my Bucky story. I'm sure there will be more starring him in the future. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me! This ending is cheesy but they have been through so much they deserve a fluffy ending.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story. You own nothing, I don’t give anyone permission to post this anywhere.

Summary: Bucky had waited a long time to find an Omega. When Pepper introduces the team to her new assistant he knows shes the one.

Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes X OFC Omega Carina Rivera

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, biting, shower sex

Status: Completed

Tagging: @ashes-writing | @pioched | @littlemissthistle | @pizgloria | @casa-boiardi

Read First: Long Time Coming Masterlist

Also Check Out: Main Masterlist

Everybody wants to be loved, every once in a while. We all need someone to hold on to, just like a helpless child. Can you whisper in my ear, let me know it's alright.

Steve & Natasha stayed at the controls in the front of the jet as they made their way back to the compound, giving Bucky & Carina some space in the back. There was quiet murmuring as he examined her wounds and they comforted each other.

Arriving at the base they were greeted by the rest of the team who gave relieved smiles and hugs before letting Bucky usher her to Dr. Cho despite her protests. “Please, for my peace of mind. Let her scan you and then we will go back to our place.” The haunted look in his eyes convinced her, so she sat through the physical, holding Bucky’s hand the whole time.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and then I'll bandage your wrists.” Bucky carried her into their bathroom and started the water while Carina pulled her clothes off.

She was still in the outfit she’d been kidnapped in and she threw it in the trash the second she got it away from her skin. “That used to be my favorite sports bra.” she shook her head, turning to see Bucky still clothed. “You aren’t joining me?”

“I was going to get you some fresh clothes while you cleaned up.” He smiled gently, checking the water temperature.

It's been a long time coming down this road, and now I know what I've been waiting for. And like a lonely highway I'm trying to get home, loves been a long time coming.

She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. “Please stay with me. I can’t feel you right now and I…” her hand was resting on her chest as the words left her in a shudder. Bucky knew the feeling, their connection had been damaged by the injections. When they had bonded a tether had appeared right next to his heart that led straight to her. He was still aware of a whisper of it but the stricken look on her face told him that she couldn’t even feel that much.

He whipped his clothes and shoes off and gathered her into his arms. Her small sobs were muffled by the water as he steered them underneath it. “Sshhh, it’s going to be ok.” he murmured, reaching for her shampoo and slowly working it through her tangled hair.

“Can we fix it?” he barely heard the whispered question against his chest.

Lifting her head back so he could rinse the shampoo, he smiled at her. “It’s still there, our bond, we just have to tend to it. Strange said it was like a fire.” he reached for her conditioner before continuing. “Add kindling, encourage it. Brock didn’t succeed in extinguishing it. As long as we still want each other there are embers.”

You can love for a lifetime, you can love for a day. You can think you've got everything, but everything is nothing when you throw it away. Then you look in my eyes. And I have it all once again.

Carina looked at him, her brown eyes wide and shining with tears. “There’s no one I want more than you.” she whispered, her arms circled his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He smiled into the kiss, relieved to hear it.

Pulling back he turned to grab her loofah but she pulled him back down. “We need to clean your wrists.” Her ankles had had the benefit of her leggings to provide a barrier but the rope had dug into the skin on her bare wrists, leaving them raw and red.

“Bucky please.” She tried again to pull him down to her but he resisted despite the scent of her arousal reaching his nose.

“You need to rest, you’ve been through alot.” His attempt to soothe her was weak even to his own ears.

Didn't know I was lost, till you found me. Didn't know I was blind, but now I see. Can you whisper in my ear, let me know it's alright.

She shook her head, a small smile crept onto her face when she felt his arousal stir against her stomach. “I need you, I need to feel you and our connection.”

Bucky gave in with a groan, grabbing her legs and hoisting her up his body. Gently he pressed her back against the wall, using it to anchor her with his hips. “I love you so much, if I had lost you…” his voice broke and she silenced him with another kiss, whimpering as he pressed into her.

“You waited nearly two lifetimes for me, I'll be yours for the rest of mine.” She whispered, urging him to move with a shift of her hips. Bucky was gentle as he made love to her in the shower slowly, urging her to an orgasm before reclaiming her with a bite over the damaged one. The effect was immediate, both of them relaxing as their bond snapped into place again.

It's been a long time coming down this road, and now I know what I've been searching for. It's been a long, long highway, and now I see. Oh it's been a long time, loves been a long time coming.

Bucky and Carina were married three weeks later in a small ceremony at a cabin Tony owned. They hadn’t needed the piece of paper, their bond was stronger than ever but Bucky had wanted to tie himself to her in every way possible. For him, love had been a long time coming.

#micole writes things now #bucky barnes #alpha!bucky barnes #long time coming #alpha!bucky #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #james buchanan barnes

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skylinx2o · 7 months ago

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What is your oc's sexuality?

Glad you asked, since I was going to make a post about it for pride month anyway! I'll sprinkle info about their gender and pronouns into the answer too, because I was going to include that in the original post I was making anyway

(Mind you, this isn't even all of my LMK OCs, I have much more I haven't finalized the designs of yet. They will be added in reblogs to this post later on - _-) (Also, I will be excluding my child OCs for this one...)

So…

Wandering Shadows

Sky

They're bi, demi-romantic and asexual. Sky is nonbinary and goes by they/he/she pronouns, because she is fine with whatever, but definitely isn't his assigned gender. Tho, his style and likes lean more towards things seen as masculine.

Lychee

Lychee is omnisexual! Lychee is also nonbinary, and goes by they/it. They're a bit more feminine leaning, but prefer for their gender to be more neutral towards either side.

Demon Lady

She's straight, but she would support you no matter what. Especially since she's been wronged by men in the past, so if you're a girl dating another feminine person she'd be like 'Yeah, understandable' lol And she's a cis female, so goes by she/her.

Lady Prism

Unlabelled, mostly because she's too busy with her evil master plan >:) She knows she probably might not be straight, but doesn't think it's that important to label herself, especially with her plans going into motion. She's cis female, goes by she/her.

Melonade

Mel

Queer! Boy was a regular monkey, so he didn't even bother with those things, but then he got turned into a demon, and suddenly was learning about the complicated world of humans. He went 'ah screw it, we ball' and went with queer because he was still confused with all those identities, but knew he probably would date other people than just the opposite gender if things went that way. Cis he/him boy.

Flower Path

Lady Red Flower

The snake lady is pan! She's a hopeless romantic, she'll fall for anyone as long as it was sweet and romantic :3 She goes by she/her pronouns, she's a cis girl.

Ash

He's asexual and unlabelled. He knows he doesn't feel sexual attraction, but he doesn't feel like he can label his romantic attraction. And he just doesn't really care. He'd give anyone a chance to date. Ash is a cis male, going by he/him.

Perfect Vessel

Atlas

Atlas is pan! He doesn't care about the whole gender thing. This boy just has a big heart. Especially since he's intersex. He's supposed to be a perfect being, and that includes combining both male and female traits! He goes by he/him pronouns, mostly because of his Jade Emperor title, but doesn't really care about being called something different, his gender just doesn't cross his mind often lol But like I said, mostly presents as a boy out of convenience.

Miscellaneous

Bojing

Bojing is aroace! Goes by he/him.

Jinyu

Jinyu is asexual, but heteroromantic. Goes by she/they.

#monkie kid #lmk oc #lego monkie kid oc #lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid oc #lmk original character #lmk original characters

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fuckmeyer · 9 months ago

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Hii

It's for the 500 words commentary, (I'm not sure of the word count sorry)

In this close proximity, I could speak in a low voice and be heard. “Are you saying we can’t be friends?” I tease with a low laugh.

When his eyes trailed from mine, to my lips, he came to press his forehead to mine and stopped my smile dead in its tracks; my brain turned to scrambled eggs. I inhaled, ragged. Here we were again. Now all I could smell was the spice on his breath, the chill of his skin, the stillness of the air around us.

“Hm. That is a trick question.”

“Is not.”

“Is so.”

“How come?”

“Because in an imperfectly perfect world—” His throat sounded dry. His hand traced the outline of mine. “In any other world, I wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”

Since my brain hadn’t been receiving oxygen for the last couple minutes, I couldn’t tell whether I simply jumped out of my skin or if I shifted myself even closer to his cold body on purpose. I also couldn’t help myself from saying, “Hold up. Unedit. Are you saying all this because you want to set me straight?” No response. “Or because you want...” My eyelids fluttered open to his. I blushed.

“That’s okay. I’ve heard your case,” I told him. “So, then. About that second question...?”

“I can’t answer what you didn’t ask.”

“Fine.” Damn him. I breathed in, heart hammering the air out of my lungs. “In a perfectly perfect world, no ‘trick question’ answer, honest: would you—kiss me? Right now? If I asked you? Hypothetically?”

His hand froze interlaced with mine. “In a perfectly perfect world?” My breath stole away in a shudder that twisted up my spine when Edward brushed my chin to the side with his thumb, placed his lips at the base of my neck. Blood simmered underneath my skin. And he whispered while he lingered there, “I...I don’t know if—if that’s really realistic.” As his nose grazed up my neck, breathing deep at my thrumming pulse point. Brought to you in part by a hammering heart clocking in at a million beats per minute. “For us.” His cool breath splayed across my neck; I shivered.

“Not what I asked.”

As Edward planted a kiss behind my jaw, a lightbulb sparked in my foggy mind. This was how vampires operated. This was how their beauty and smell and touch disarmed prey. He would sell me a dream and pull the bait-and-switch like any rational predator would. The spicy cinnamon scent. The lilting voice, soft hands. The static. If he ripped out my throat, it would take too long for me to notice and be too late for me to care.

All I could think about now was how good it would feel to have him on me, in me—teeth and venom and all.

hii, thank you for the ask!

IN THE AFTERLIGHT CHAPTER 15: MIND OVER MATTER - DVD COMMENTARY

[i was beyond feral when i wrote chapters 15-18. it was 2020. the wildfires had completely blocked out the daylight; the sky was red, the smoke was too thick to see beyond my building, & ash dusted the apartment. my partner had already evacuated; i was alone. too depressed to do my day job, i spent 12-16 hours a day microdosing LSD, listening to ragtime, playing Ms. Pac Man, & writing. & i remember this scene in particular because 1) i was SO excited, & 2) i sat at my kitchen table pounding lagers & listing out every.single.synonym related to electricity (e.g. static, spark, crackle, exploded etc.) & thinking, "holy shit, i cannot think of any other way to word their freaky connection without hinting at them being mates." i was SO nervous to post. early fans may remember my A/N apologizing for my shitty editing; i explained that i had had no time for editing as i too evacuated the area a few days later. askdlasdklsd]

In this close proximity, I could speak in a low voice and be heard. “Are you saying we can’t be friends?” I tease [OMG I'M FIXING THIS TENSE ERROR IMMEDIATELY UGH] with a low laugh.

“Hm. That is a trick question.”

“Is not.”

“Is so.”

“How come?”

“Because in an imperfectly perfect world—” ["I would be able to kiss you."] His throat sounded dry. His hand traced the outline of mine. “In any other world, I wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”

Since my brain hadn’t been receiving oxygen for the last couple minutes [girl, seek medical attention], I couldn’t tell whether I simply jumped out of my skin or if I shifted myself even closer to his cold body on purpose. I also couldn’t help myself from saying, “Hold up. Unedit. Are you saying all this because you want to set me straight?” No response. “Or because you want...” ["me?"] My eyelids fluttered open to his. I blushed.

“You know by now that I should set you straight,” he said, watching as our fingers lazily laced in, laced out, reveling in the oxytocin static we produced. “And myself, for that matter. You know that I’ve tried—feebly, of course, but I have tried. At this point, I’m not sure what I can say to keep you away. Or if I would want to say anything at all. But I’m happy to try again, if you’d like.” [i got so caught up trying to make Edward respectful of her space that i made him a little too stubborn. it would have been better if they'd kissed in the meadow like i'd originally planned.]

“That’s okay. I’ve heard your case,” I told him. “So, then. About that second question...?”

“I can’t answer what you didn’t ask.”

“Fine.” Damn him. I breathed in, heart hammering the air out of my lungs. [<-ooh! i'm going to steal this description] “In a perfectly perfect world, no ‘trick question’ answer, honest: would you—kiss me? Right now? If I asked you? Hypothetically?”

[here's the song i was listening to while writing all the kisses. and this one. i have a pandemic playlist. oh god i'm getting feral again--]

His hand froze interlaced with mine. “In a perfectly perfect world?” My breath stole away in a shudder that twisted up my spine when Edward brushed my chin to the side with his thumb, placed his lips at the base of my neck. [canon Edward just goes for it. just takes her face & gives her a big ole smooch. what?! if you're afraid of hurting her, you should do some trial runs! practice! a kiss on the neck! a kiss on the cheek! test the waters! anyway, i framed it like this because i wanted to build more tension than there was.] Blood simmered underneath my skin. And he whispered while he lingered there, “I...I don’t know if—if that’s really realistic.” As his nose grazed up my neck, breathing deep at my thrumming pulse point. [<-my top tip for writers: never edit your fanfic when the Air Quality Index exceeds 201.] Brought to you in part by a hammering heart clocking in at a million beats per minute. “For us.” His cool breath splayed across my neck; I shivered.

“Not what I asked.”

All I could think about now was how good it would feel to have him on me, in me—teeth and venom and all. [this section is not part of the original! i edited it & added to it to make it a spicy blurb for the fic's summary. LOL]

send me 500 words of my fanfic & i will give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet

#this was a fun one - writing ITA was such a weird surreal experience sometimes! i wish i'd kept my original A/Ns and not deleted them all #asks #in the afterlight #fanfic dvd commentary

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cheolhub · 1 year ago

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Talk about your moots; what do you like most about them (could be a paragraph or a single sentence, spread the love!!)

p sure i did this just a few days ago but everyone knows i adore my moots so i dont mind doing it again :)

it’s kinda long! (took me a literal hour and a half to write) and i tried to get everyone i talk to on a tri-weekly basis at least 😅

@ncteez i know you said to pick what i like most abt my moots, but i love everything about hon from the way she looks (she’s literally the most gorgeous person ever— she still owes me a selfie now that im thinking abt it) right down to her core. 🥹 the only mark stan who has ever walked the planet actually,,, i love hearing about her sex dreams and i love the way that she gives the best advice bc she only wants the best for me and how genuine she is. I LOVE HER & she makes me a better person every day, seriously ⭐️ i <3 my wife

@jeonghantis 🩵 there are about a million and three things that i can write for keir but i think the thing i love most about them is that… i can just be sar with them, i never have to worry about being judged for the things i like bc 9 times out of 10, keir feels the same way. like who else am i gonna talk about [redacted] with chan with ??? or [ censored beeping for 10 minutes straight ] with sangyeon ?? my jeonghannie, my bff, my ride or die <3 (they also hate everyone that i hate and watch my instagram lives even tho im super annoying which means i am going to die for them)

@onlyseokmins literally just love elv’s personality. she has this infectious positivity and it makes me so happy to be alive like dhahdh,,, every time i see her on the dash reblogging the silliest things or cute pics or even talking to other people, it makes me smile so hard like idk she’s so bright PLUS she’s resident dk lover on tumblr like there is no one else. tumblr user onlyseokmins is quite literally the only dk stan alive

@lovelyhan ok two things i love the most — one: kai’s writing will always get me out of a reading slump. i re-read their fics an ungodly amount of times, like i actually need to be blocked by them ( i definitely didn’t re-read inflection point again TODAY on my lunch break, nope! i didn’t! 😂……) TWO: kai is literally so sweet and funny and we don’t really talk much, but from what i know, they’re a really great person and anyone would be lucky to have them as a moot! ^^

@agustdiv1ne ash and i are actually moving to alaska and we’re gonna be neighbors /srs,,, srsly tho, i told her this already, but she’s an amazing listener and she puts up with my shitty texting and i seriously cant appreciate that more 😢 she’s so wonderful and lovely and my favorite yoongi stan to ever exist and i will shield her from the heat. don’t worry, ash, 𝖎 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔��𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚.

@soonigiri MELODY <333 the soonyoung to my cheol!! she’s also someone i enjoy seeing on my dash sm!! she’s literally an angel and it’s so endearing to see her in her engene era. like i look forward to seeing jungwon on my dash every day /srs — OKAY ACTUALLY, ik im an awkward freak but i would love to talk to you more bc i think we have a lot in common T-T

@etherealyoungk SKYE i know we interact like every 3 weeks but each of them do really mean a lot to me <33 i think she’s really kind-hearted and i get really happy when i see her jn my inbox from time to time!! it’s like a nice little surprise which i love 🥹💝 it’s like finding a rice krispie at the bottom of my lunch box (if you don’t know the feeling, think immense joy)

@rubyreduji JJ THE COOLEST GUY EVER. he’s such a joy to talk to and i love that he’s lowkey my hypeman. every time i run a concept or idea by him, he makes me feel really good about it and i adore that. he’s so supportive i love him and i need to hug him so bad actually 🥹 (i give good bear hugs jj, pls let me hug u) also jj doesnt care that im a weirdo awkward freak and i have to commend him for that too ☺️

@toruro mikalicious always know what to say which is what i love the absolute most abt them now. when im in a shit mood, she knows exactly how to make me feel better and always helps me take my mind off of it. she’s so cute and wonderful inside and out and i really am so eternally grateful to have her as a mutual and a friend <33 also, mika, this is my formal apology for being the world’s worst texter 😅

@gyuswhore EM THE COOLEST PERSON EVER. i love her so much actually. she and i just started talking and i have to say, she is just so,,,, amazing? idk, i dont have the words for it. she was so kind to me when reading my wonu fic and she just read over my new cheol wip and she has given me such great feedback and im so appreciative of her!! + sending pics is lowkey my love language and she lets me send her the most random shit (my pc collection, my room, etc.) i love her 💝

@hwanghyunjinenthusiast MY FAV JOKSTER dbehdh talking to rj is seriously a breath of fresh air lol I LOVE her humor and she understands my humor. ALSO….. something about rj’s writing also does something to me… like i remember i was super depressed while i had strep and on a brief tumblr hiatus and i came onto the app for just a second and saw that she’d posted … mean dom!chan… i remember reading it and crying bc she GETS IT. no one gets me like rj (i forgot to rb now that im thinking abt it but im gonna get on that) my fave dinonara <3

@heesbaby TUMBLR USER HEESBABY SINGLE HANDEDLY GOT ME BACK INTO ENHYPEN. i never thought id see the day, but bc of her smau’s and writing, i’m back in my engene era… i love how much of an angel cinna is like,,, we talk every once in awhile but she makes me the happiest girl ever when she replies to my asks or i find her in my inbox. i’ll actually fight jay for cinna

@hyuk4ngel RESIDENT MINGYU STAN,, fay has been here with me since what feels like the fucking beginning and i seriously can’t thank her enough. she’s really encouraging and amazing and she has the best ideas ever. i swear half of my writing discography is thanks to her (just my mingyu fics which is lowekey half my writing discography begsgs) she also is always checking in and i just love her for that and many other things 🥹

@baeksbyunny / @baekhyunnybyun (you’ll have to remind me which acct im supposed to tag) BEX MY BELOVED!!! THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HER IS SERIOUSLY INDESCRIBABLE!!! she’s the nicest person to me. like i’ll never forget when i was anxious before my txt concert and she was so reassuring like i felt a weight lift off my shoulders. INSTANT (sar)otonin boost every time we talk, idk what it is. probably the fact that she has the most comforting presence. i love her, you honor. i rest my case.

@majestyjun mills was like the first moot i’d ever talked to,,, but i remember i was so intimidated the first time we did bc millie is literally so fucking cool like,,, i have always thought this and when she said //I// was cool and i was genuinely so honored like…. idk >< ALSO HER WRITING IS SOHSHSBS OUT OF THIS WORLD … the concepts the description,,, she’s a genius!!!

@sunnylovespickles even tho we just became moots, i thought it was really sweet that she dropped off pics of pink!cheol for me 🥹 my day was really bad and that brightened it so much <33 i hope to have more interactions with her in the future bc she seems so nice!!

#[ 💌: anon ! ]#[ ⭐️: mutuals ! ]

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 11 months ago

Text

Fics Based on IRL 5SOS Things (2) Masterlist

part one

Fetus

a chalk outline on a playground blacktop (ao3) - whiskeytantrums michael/luke G, 1k

Summary: Michael's always had a habit of making Luke cry.

How Do You Not Like FIFA? (ao3) - DontGetTooCloseItsDarkInside michael/ashton N/R, 1k

Summary: “How do you not like FIFA?” Michael asked Ashton, trying to keep the scandalized tone out of his voice. It wasn't working.

“What?” Ashton asked in confusion.

Hair

Back in Black (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton T, 1k

Summary: Luke was standing in the hotel bathroom and Ashton was smiling like a maniac. Luke saw in his hand supplies that he thought Ashton had left at home. Ashton’s hair was faded red, really an orange to a red that they had let fade to almost nothing. That and he had left his hair dye in their house. Luke was staring at the box in his hands, it was not red but instead black.

“No.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

or how not to dye your hair black

Red (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton T, 1k

Summary: Luke saw the box of red hair dye in their bathroom. He also saw the bottle of developer sitting next to one of the nice bowls from the kitchen with a plastic fork in it. He also saw the white towel with a single streak of red dye on it.

The red was far too concentrated to be mixed up yet. Luke had time to figure out what was happening.

or how not to dye your own hair.

Until the Water Runs Clear (ao3) - orphan_account michael/luke T, 777

Summary: Michael asks Luke to help him dye his hair

Keeks

Smile for me babe (ao3) - Directioner_Jcats_5sosfam michael/luke M, 1k

Summary: Luke his homesick and sad, and Michael makes him smile

Wabi-Sabi (ao3) - merlypops michael/ashton T, 2k

Summary: 'Ashton remembers how his smile softened then and he pressed a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, and Ashton remembers how the tiny, sad sigh that escaped Michael hurt him more than the hate online ever could.'

Michael can't see how wonderful he is and Ashton does his best to change his boyfriend's mind.

Interviews

"Maybe a little farm... some pigs" (ao3) - Directioner_Jcats_5sosfam Michael/Luke, Calum/Ashton G, 1k

Summary: Luke and Michael are dating, and Ashton thinks Luke is ready for marriage and settling down. What does Luke thinks about it?

peace (ao3) - no_clue_who ot4 G, 1k

Summary: Calum could see Michael was tired.

He could tell Michael was reaching his limit on being out, the interviews had dragged on and they all were tired. But Calum could tell Michael was really tired. He watched as Michael grabbed the cat pillow and started to pull back from the conversation. Michael was very tired.

stolen shirts/hearts (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum T, 6k

Summary: There's a sort of inevitability that comes with being in this band. A set of concrete circumstances that never seems to change. They annoy each other to hell, they know every last thing about each other, Calum is in love with Luke, and Luke always steals Calum's clothes.

That's the way it is. That's the way they all know it is, except maybe Luke, who might be ignorant to the third thing on the list.

tongue tied by words (ao3) - strxngersagain Luke/Calum G, 4k

Summary: “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Luke glances down at his chest, the Led Zeppelin t-shirt he found in Calum’s room hangs from his shoulders. “I thought this was yours?” He says, glancing at Calum. “So did I.” Calum shrugs, his fingers still lingering on Luke’s thigh, eyes on the TV. “Bro,” Ashton groans. “I already have to deal with you stealing my shit.” He points at Calum, whose eyes still don’t leave the TV. “But now you too?!”

5 times luke stole calum's clothes, and 1 time calum stole luke's

Too hot for Mexico (ao3) - niallistoocute102030 T, 602

Summary: 5SOS are currently on tour in Mexico when the heat causes Ashton to pass out.

Based on the interview where Michel said Ash passed out which now isn't on Youtube.

Pictures

Hold You Tight Straight Through The Daylight (ao3) - harrehsbutterfly G, 890

Summary: Drabble about Luke being ill, based off a photo I saw, where he basically looked really pale and shaky.

Robe Men (ao3) - azalea_21 michael/ashton N/R, 835

Summary: Just a lil fic about based on the picture 5SOS tweeted with Michael and Ashton in robes.

Songs/Music Videos

it's not the end of the road (ao3) - rocketshiptospace michael/luke T, 8k

Summary: Luke is a CEO. Michael owns a hot dog stand. Their friends like to meddle a lot.

Lyrics (ao3) - paperstorm michael/luke T, 4k

Summary: Michael writes Jet Black Heart for Luke.

Superbloom (ao3) - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) T, 3k

Summary: Ashton brings Calum a CD.

Talk Fast (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton T, 2k

Summary: "What is it about then, huh? What is the fucking line 'won't last I'm ok with that' about?" Luke said, blinking back tears. He just wanted to hear Ashton say it, say that he didn't love Luke the way Luke loved him. "What does it mean?"

"It's only a matter of time." Ashton said. His voice was shaking.

"It's only a matter of time till what Ashton?"

or how not to write a song about your relationship

Wrapped (ao3) - stelleshine michael/luke, luke/others E, 17k

Summary: Michael wrote 'Wrapped Around Your Finger' for Luke, and decides to tell him that - repeatedly - backstage after their show, with Luke pressed up against a wall. From there, feelings happen.

Other

it’s like a go-gurt (ao3) - orphan_account G, 905

Summary: What if Luke actually drank the tzatziki sauce?

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #masterlists #irl #irl masterlist

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tetsunabouquet · 6 months ago

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Heir To The Lands Chapter 42

The Wrong Instincts Masterpost

Dru looked at him, before looking around her at the empty path just to be sure. She didn't knew what to say. Ash had saved her, seemed to have taken a liking to her when they first met and had called a truce between him and Kit. But he was also working together with the Princes of Hell and had left Jaime to rot in prison. Yet Dru couldn't help but feel like she should trust him, like there was something good in him. "What are you doing here?" She asked, deciding to cut straight to the point. He slauntered over to a tree strunk, which seemed to morph into a throne as he approached it. He sat down on it, his wings seeming to retract into his back from slits within the beautiful suit he wore. "I was just checking after wether you returned safely. It seems the First Heir is gathering troups now." Ash drawled, trying not to sound too interested in how much they knew of his plans. Dru tried not to swallow at the revelation he had been spying on them, and probably for a long time. She wondered if he was the reason why they knew Kit had fled to England. "I have returned safely, didn't knew you were stalking Kit though." Dru retorted as she crossed her arms. "Ah… Kit." Ash tried out the name, having only really paid attention to the boy's last name. "You know, you'd think a prince would have been taught better manners," she remarked as she studied the way he seemed to try and impress her with his demeanor and magical abilities. "So you find my manners to be lacking, how amusing. Did you not break into my room the first time we met?" "You probably know by now that was a magical accident." Dru clarified, not wanting to make him feel like he was special, something that seemed to go against her instincts that were praising Ash for saving her that day. "I assumed it was, but still, you shouldn't have been toying with magic like that. How did you fall into the realms of Faerie though? I always wondered about that." "A magical object-" Dru cut herself off, realizing she was giving his information he was clearly fishing for. Yet, her instincts were telling her it was okay, that she should trust him with the information, that it was useless and that they would find out anyways. It felt wrong, to doubt her instincts yet Dru knew she had to. Kit, her brother and everyone could be in danger if she wasn't careful. Ash looked at her as if he were a little disapointed with her reaction, a little hurt that she would refuse to trust him. A tiny sparrow fluttered closer to Ash and seemed to cosy up to his shoulder resting on his treetrunk throne, almost as if to console him. "You know, you could just surrender before things are too late. I am certain your aunt Clary would love to have a bond with you." Dru tried, and noticed he perked up. He pursed his lips in thought, before saying, "Well, I think I will get to know my aunt regardless of whoever wins." Dru suddenly felt a little bit chilly, and she knew it wasn't the English weather which for a change wasn't gloomy or rainy, or both. "But don't you want to meet her when no one is fighting and she is meeting you with peace in her heart?" Ash hardened before her and stood up. "She'll be peaceful enough. It's not like any harm would ever come to her." Dru shook her head, "If you think a world were the Princes of Hell will rule will be a world with millions suffering for it, will bring her peace, or your grandmother, or any of us that could be your friends if you just choose any differently, then you're dead wrong." Ash wandered over to her with his hard green eyes that looked so like Clary's and yet entirely different. "I can make you peaceful." He said and Dru could feel it. Could feel his magical charm make her thoughts go soft, her body at ease. He could keep people at peace like this, obedient like this… Dru's mind snapped as a mundane bicycling with a babbling baby wedged in a seat at the front towards them allowed her to see how dangerous the effect was getting to her and she grabbed her grocery bag before running off in the woman's direction, off to Devon.

#shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunter chronicles #twp #the wicked powers #dru blackthorn #ash morgenstern

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k-writer1998 · 5 months ago

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Through Your Eyes (3/3)

w.c: 2.6k

a/n: Sorry for the delay but here it is cause I finally got back to my pc! Did I also go back and change the title after so long? Yes... I did... it just fit better with everything okay? ;-;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although a bit shaky and oddly centered it was an endearing photo nonetheless with a natural feel and a genuine energy radiating from our smiles. What surprised me though was my expression, I didn't know I could make a face like that. Softened features, relaxed expression and a certain sweetness captured in my eyes. Feeling a familiar twisting in my stomach, I bit back the words that wanted to spill out. I knew what this was but I was scared. Instead my eyes tore away from my face and moved to his. His eyes were as clear and captivating as usual with their flecks of bold purple among the milk chocolate of his irises. Wait a moment… Instinctively, my hand moved to run through the ends of my hair, spilling ash brown and purple strands into my view. Setting the camera down, I look back at the ocean as my thoughts slowly fall down a rabbit hole. Am I overthinking it? Does Seungmin know? If he did, why didn’t he tell me? Maybe- I felt his body rest on me before his head found its way to my shoulder. For a moment I swear my heart stopped at the momentary thought that entered my mind, but I could still feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Tired?” I ask, now focusing on the boy beside me.

“Yeah… will you keep talking to me?”

It was coming… that was the only thing my brain could scream at me. The words danced on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t do it, to give him a false sense of hope when I wasn’t even sure. What if I tried and it didn’t work? Our mark is too common to jump to conclusions so I’ll take the burden of hope onto myself and quietly go along with his last wishes.

“Of course. Hmmm… any more interesting stories about your soulmate mark?”

“I thought you didn’t care for those things?”

“Just because I’m not actively scouring the world for mine doesn’t mean I’m not interested. I’m still hopeful.”

“Well I’m sure whoever it is will be lucky. You’re pretty okay after all.”

“I’m honored to receive such high praise,” I joke.

“You know what I mean. Oh. Before I forget,” he placed his hand on mine before guiding it to the small box he brought along with him. “Could you do me a favor and deliver this to someone when you go back to the city? I left their business card inside.”

“Simple enough. Is it your elusive friend you kept this a secret from? I’ll have to figure out how to break the news if it is.” I explained, earning me a quiet chuckle from the boy.

“Nothing crazy like that. He’s just my senior at the hospital.”

“I don’t think that’s the condition he wanted you in for your next visit.”

“If you don’t like a psychiatrist as a fall back career maybe you should do stand up comedy.”

“Wow, are my photos really that bad that my dear friend has to try to find me a new career?”

“Enough,” he says, although I could hear the smile in his voice. “You wanted to go on about soulmates right? Well, do you have any fun stories?”

“My eyes have always been straight black my entire life. Like I said, my soulmate is a bit boring,” I chuckle. “What other colors have your eyes changed to?”

“Aside from red there was lime green, silver, pink, orange but not the natural kind, more like the highlighter shade. With all the bright colors I had a lot of talent scouts trying to recruit me.”

“Look at you rockstar. You're already handsome so I’m not surprised. Any idol skills up your sleeve?”

Even though my lips continued to move and converse with him my mind was elsewhere placing all the pieces together. Seungmin is my soulmate… I am Seungmin’s soulmate. As the conversation winded down I felt the weight on my shoulder lighten as I turned to look at him, a camera lens greeting me instead. Instinctively my lips pulled into a smile as I furrowed my brow.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you like the world through my eyes right? My final gift for you is to see yourself in that view.”

His words struck a chord in my heart, the finality of that statement leaving an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had to turn away to blink back tears that threatened to fall.

“Stop it. At this rate you’ll get the waterworks you’re trying to avoid in the first place.”

“Fine, fine. I'll keep it short. Thank you for accompanying me till the end.”

Somewhere between his sincere words, the camera shutter blinked before I felt the gentle thud of his head once again followed by the sound of crunching sand and a silence that stretched as the minutes passed. One can imagine the shock on my manager’s face when he saw my tear-stained face sitting there with a listless Seungmin. He was forced to make do with the short explanation while we collected our things and brought Seungmin to the car. Once the loose ends were tied up with Granny Jeong, we headed back to the city as I told the whole story.

“Okay so let me get this right. I let you run off to the ocean to clear your head and you somehow met your terminally ill potential soulmate?

“That's the extremely abridged version of it, yes. If you want to blame someone, blame fate.”

Once we arrived at the hospital the person I contacted from the card came out to greet us. He had dark curly hair with glasses who looked no more than a few years older than myself. After situating Seungmin in a room, he sat me in his office and from the title on the card he was a love disease specialist. It was obvious he didn’t agree with Seungmin’s plans as I explained everything. At the end of the story he sighed in resignation before reaching out to take the box. Instinctively I pulled it back, having yet to explain potentially the most important factor of the story.

“I know it’s gonna sound crazy but I fell in love with Seungmin… and I think I’m his soulmate.” He pondered carefully before speaking.

“What makes you believe you guys are soulmates?”

“Our mark is a common one so it’s hard to give a definitive answer. The only real “proof” I have at this time is this. Everything else is circumstantial.”

With that I handed the man my camera, the image zoomed into Seungmin’s eyes showing the noticeable flecks of purple that streak through his iris just like the streaks of violet that highlight my hair.

“And your feelings are… genuine?”

“I’m not sure how I can prove it, but yes they are. I honestly surprise myself with how easily I can say that. Am I making sense?”

“Yes I think I understand.” The doctor’s gaze softened as he spoke. Was I making that face again? “I think I can guess why you’re hesitating with handing over the fragments.”

“I may not have gone looking for him but I won’t let him get away that easily. I don't know if these fresh feelings or the fact we are soulmates is enough but I have to try.”

“Love diseases are finicky when it comes to what is defined as “true love”. Some people get away with just being soulmates while others need raw genuine feelings in full force. Everything is a gamble left to fate. I'm not trying to speak against this idea or anything, I’m just surprised that both my juniors are just as reckless as I was.”

After that, Dr. Bang walked me through the whole procedure of attempting to treat the shattered heart disease. Although there was a surgical piece to it, piecing Seungmin’s heart together had to be done myself and were it not for the doctor I would have pieced it together without rest. Frustratingly after a few mandated breaks, the heart was completed after the thirty-second hour. With that done it was now time for the anxiety inducing part. Before Dr. Bang could finish the procedure, the heart has to sit within the body for twenty-four hours to see if the body accepts or rejects the transplant. Because of this, I was sent home and they would call me with the results. To not be left alone with my thoughts, I went to my friend’s salon to ramble my worries away. As it was within business hours I had to practically pay for her time as she sat me in the salon chair, my lips spilling all my anxieties and worries about the procedure. Her soothing words alongside the relaxing stroke of her hands through my hair chased away the tension built up for a bit. Half my day was spent going in circles with her and by the end of it I had calmed down enough I wasn’t bouncing off the walls and new colors were added to my hair.

That didn’t stop my anxious pacing once I got home though. Sleep escaped me as the twenty-four hour mark ticked closer and closer until it passed and yet there was still no call. One hour later, then two, to four… I had to turn to my manager and work on the exhibit before I really lost my mind although he banned me from actually coming to the gallery in fear I would tear down the photos for the second time when the exhibit is only a few days away. By the fifth hour I was about to make my way to the gallery regardless when my phone rang and I jumped to answer it. Good news. I was at the hospital within the hour and without much thought I barged into the room to hear a monitor beeping in a familiar steady rhythm. My unannounced entrance startled the doctor patient duo. Giving us a knowing smile Dr. Bang closed their conversation quickly before giving us some space. I made my way to his bedside as silence filled the room. The boy who always broke the silence first was now at a loss for words so I took the initiative this time.

“You weren’t expecting this development were you?”

“Honestly? No, but is it weird to say I’m glad?”

“I would hope you’d be glad, all things considered.”

He gave me a soft smile as a reply but my mind was too preoccupied taking in every little detail as if his life would slip away from him once again if I even so much as blinked. The jagged cracks have now faded to the faintest scars and his eyes were still as clear as ever with the fluorescent lights catching the faint flecks of violet, the newest shades of blue and pink now present as well. So engrossed with tracing over every little feature of the boy in front of me, I was startled by the sudden warmth that fell onto my hand.

“Hey, I’m fine now. I’m okay and it’s because of you.”

The sound of his voice seemed to quell my racing mind only for a blush to burn across my face as I realized the meaning of his words and the hand now holding mine.

“So, I guess Dr. Bang already told you everything…”

“To a certain degree, although I’d much prefer to hear it from you.”

“Well wouldn’t I sound a bit crazy to say that I fell in love with you in less than a week?”

“Crazy is just part of your vocabulary Miss-I-trashed-an-entire-exhibit-before-its-opening. Plus it wouldn’t sound as crazy if I said that you earned my trust in the span of one day and became one of the most important people in my life shortly after, right?”

If I didn’t already understand what Seungmin was trying to convey, the small squeeze to my hand was confirmation. After everything that was all he could give and that was enough because that was his way of saying it which made it all the more endearing.

A few days passed and it was my exhibit’s soft opening. With the permission of Dr. Bang, Seungmin was able to attend. Upon my playful request he reluctantly covered his eyes as I slowly guided him into the gallery before allowing him to open his eyes. My eyes traced over his expressions as he examined the photos that adorned the walls as realization hit him.

“Wait, aren’t those-”

“Your photos? Yeah… I know I didn’t have your permission but I wanted to tell a story of finding my spark again which ultimately includes you. You are referenced as an anonymous photographer I collaborated with and we can work out the business details later or I can remove them if you aren’t comfortable. I just couldn’t help it-”

“You’re fine,” he chuckles as he grabs my hand to reassure me. “I’m glad you think so highly of my photography skills as a professional. Walk me through it?”

Although he was there for every one of these photos, I still went and explained each one to him as he intently listened to my endless rambling until we reached the final wall and main attraction. There were three photos lined up next to each other. The first being the very first photo I took of Seungmin’s silhouette, followed by the crooked selfie of us together, and ending with the final photo Seungmin took of me.

“You know it was this very photo that made me realize you were my soulmate?” I said, pointing at the center photo.

“I stopped looking in the mirror because of the disease so I never noticed the hints of violet.”

“Well in retrospect, I do apologize for calling you boring because you are far from that.”

“So what’s the explanation for all the crazy colors I had to suffer through?”

“My university roommate needed a victim because she was trying to be a hairdresser.”

“And here I thought it’s because you’re an artist and don’t fit in a box.”

“Don’t quote me to bully me.”

I playfully slapped his shoulder as we shared a laugh. Since it was the soft opening there were far fewer guests in attendance, mainly friends and close work connections. I made my rounds greeting everyone with Seungmin by my side but at the sight of this person I squealed happily before glomping them in a hug, noticing the person beside them shortly after.

“Dr. Bang I didn’t expect to see you here. So you are my sunbae’s beloved 'Chanie' I hear about often.”

He awkwardly laughed at the mention of his soulmate’s name of endearment for him as the tips of his ears turned red. We chatted a bit more before I continued to make my way through the guestlist, introducing close friends to Seungmin along the way. Upon spotting the pair I was looking for, I called out to the boy on crutches.

“Hyunjin! I’m so glad you can make it! I see you’ve been promoted to crutches.”

“Y/n, your photos are stunning as usual.”

“He’s been hard at work during physical therapy so he’s ahead of schedule,” his soulmate responded excitedly.

“That’s amazing,” I congratulated before dramatically clearing my throat which earned me an eye roll from both Seungmin and Hyunjin. “As my closest friend I’d like to introduce you guys to my collaborator in this exhibit and my soulmate, Kim Seungmin. This is my stubborn best friend Hwang Hyunjin. You can thank him for being the practice dummy to learn how to handle love diseases.”

#stray kids imagines #stray kids aus #skz imagines #skz aus #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin aus #soulmate au #shattered heart disease #photographer! y/n x resident! seungmin #through your eyes

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matenrou-fan · 2 years ago

Note

Would it be okay to ask for Hitoya with a dom S/O? Feel like the lawyer could use some stress relief

Hitoya with a dom! GN! s/o

Of course it's okay, I love to make guys bottoms..!!!

GNreader, teasing, praising, begging, swearing;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Despite Hitoya always acting so cool and kinda dominating, of course even he just wants to relax sometimes, not thinking about any problems.

-Not being in charge, passing the control to you and just receiving some care and love? Yes, he would like that.

-Especially after some long, rough day. Managing a whole law firm all by yourself can be hard, but when he sees you in the evening, with this small smirk and bedroom eyes, he absolutely forgets about it.

"You look quite grumpy today…" - you whisper, sitting on top of him and slowly kissing his neck. Then a light chuckle escaped your lips. - "Well, I meant even more grumpy than usual.. Has something happened?"

"Mn.. Just have a really freakish client today.. They can be so picky sometimes.." - your boyfriend mumbled with a tired sigh, arms lazily caressing your waist and back. - "Don't even want to think about it again.."

"Of course, dear.. I will take care of you and make sure to make your whole body relax..♡"

"Huh? Relax..?" - A low chuckle escaped his lips, but quickly turned into a small groan when you pressed your hips closer to his one. - "Fuck.. by the way you acting it more look like you want me tensed up even more.."

-What kind of person did Hitoya want to see himself under? Everything depends on what mood he is in today..

-As I said, he is more likely to be quiet and obedient when he's too drained after work. And you, being a soft, caring dom, help your boyfriend to relieve all his stress through some passionate yet gentle sex, peppering his whole face and neck in kisses.

-Many, many strokes and caresses as you praise him.. It just makes Hitoya lose his mind, as you have no idea how much he actually likes it.

"You're such a hard worker, my darling.. Always think about everyone around you and never about yourself.." - your smooth whisper makes him bite his lower lip. The way you play with his dick, massaging his glans and then tickling the whole length, combined with such praise right in his ear.. Poor lawyer melting under you.

"Ooh? You're so sensitive today. Don't worry, you deserve to have a good, pleasant reward today.. But only if you will be obedient.."

-And of course he would be obedient. Your soft touches resonate to Hitoya's heart and he's willing to do anything to feel more of these soothing hands.

-Well, but if he's not only tired, but more frustrated after his work, something harsh would also be okay, as it's a great way to release this burning energy in him. His skin pulsing on places where you leave hickeys, and you pulling his hair, grasping ash brown locks, so tight...

"F.. fuck.. S/o.." - such a husky, low rattle, as Hitoya's breath becomes more rapid. - "More.. Be harsher.."

"Ooh? My darling, are you sure you can handle something like that?" - you cooed, enjoying how much he unravel beneath your arms.

"Don't play with me right now.. Please.." - he didn't expect his voice to be so weak, as he planned to order it for you, not begging. All Hitoya wants is you to fuck the life out of him, to spoil his mind with pleasure to we point where he can't think straight..

"Well, when you ask with such a face, I can't resist.." - you can't help but tease him a little bit more, as you clearly can feel his dick twitching more by all this mocking.

-He will never admit that he loves such teases, when he's too helpless underneath you.. Yet when he's more in playful mode, not tired or frustrated but more romantic, there's another story.

-As in these situations he would be more bratty, teasing you back, biting your lips during kisses and just being more active. Hitoya always gets so sensitive during gentle passionate sex, yet now he will be more calm and controlling over his own body, he even lasts longer, wanting to prolong this pleasuring naughty game.

-Cause now it's actually more like a game, as he tries to annoy or even piss you off with his disobedience. Come on, what will you do about this amusing rebellion?

-But.. Oh, did he really try to fight for dominance now, pinning you to bed, right after beginning to cumming two days ago, laying like a trembling whining mess in the same place here?

"What do you think you do?" - you raise a brow, looking at his smirking face. Even when he's on top of you, your dominant strong gaze didn't fade away, bumping to his no less confident bold eyes.

"Mm? You know.. Just wanted to show you how it feels. Give you a little taste of your own medicine.." - this brash allegation makes you chuckle, as you grab his tie, pushing your boyfriend closer, so your noses touch each other:

"Oh, how bold we are today.. Really think you can make me beg..?"

"Oh, and how scary you want to be.. Afraid you will lose this game?" - his deep prolonged eye contact really makes you feel something between your thighs, yet of course you will not give him such an opportunity, how can you? It would be even more amusing to make him sobbing and whimpering under you now.

"Game? I just see it's like a lesson. A lesson to show one brat what he would receive from such mischief.."

#hypmic x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic hitoya #hitoya x reader #hitoya amaguni #hypnosis mic hitoya #hitoya amaguni smut #hitoya Amaguni x reader

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icynsom · 1 year ago

Text

Drunk without Drinking

Characters | F!reader, Captain John Price mw2

WC | Unsure, sorry

Warnings | Fluff, drinking, age gap (not mentioned)

Summary | After a mission with your new task force, you find yourself sitting in a bar next to your Captain, who you find to be very alluring.

Authors Note | This was so fun to write, I hope you enjoy it!

Long missions meant a fun night of celebration after them. The task force would go to a bar in a nearby town and we would drink until we couldn’t see straight. This mission was especially hard. But after capturing Hassan, the team deserved a night out.

Putting makeup on was a challenge after not having done it for so long, after doing half your mascara, you pretty much gave up and walked out of the dorm room, seeing a few of the other female soldiers in the barracks halls of the female building. You wondered what the men were doing in the barracks across from yours. Your barrack hall was only around a hundred feet from the men’s, a small courtyard between the 2 buildings. You figured, as your friend handed you a start up shot, then men were also getting shots. You swirled the shot in your small glass as women toasted, smiling to themselves and laughing.

“To a successful mission!” One of the female Lieutenants yelled. Everyone downed their shots, but you hesitated, slowly putting the glass to your lips and tipping it back, gaging on the taste of it.

You watched as the women started to chat and make their way out of the barracks. You follow close behind. Being newer to this devision, you found it hard to fit in, you leaned up against a nearby wall as people talked about the best ways to get to the bar.

At this point the men were starting to walk out of their building. Your eyes caught on one man, he had a scruffy beard, he looked cleaned up, and he had a cigar in his hand. You remembered that Laswell had mentioned his name, you looked down and start to think. Deep in thought, *what’s his name?*, you tried to figure it out, but someone beat you to it.

“New soldier?” A deep accented voice hummed. Your head snapped up to see the scruffy beard and smell the whisky mixed with war. The man Laswell had mentioned was standing in front of you. He looked at you with curiosity. “Are you a new soldier?” he repeated his question a bit more clearly this time. Your trance snapped.

“Yes! I-I am knew. I’m a sniper scout” you mumble softly, looking up into his eyes. *shit I could get lost*, you found yourself day dreaming as he spoke.

“Ah, I’m Captain Price. You must be?” He tilted his head slowly to you. You gave him your name, he repeated it and smiled. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, huh?”

The blush creeped to your face and something settled deep in your stomach, making you wonder what his intentions were.

Soon enough you had arrived to the bar, Price following somewhat behind you. You could feel his eyes baring into your back, your skin was on fire. What was he thinking? *Is he thinking about me?* Your mind was somewhere else. Sitting at an open table. Price walks past you, your heart sinking. He stands near Ghost and Gaz, talking like old friends, well you guessed they were.. *whatever, he’s out of my league anyway*. You rolled your eyes and turned to see your friend sitting next to you.

Ash said your name excitedly, catching you off guard. “I see you looking at Captain” she hums, handing you a glass of whiskey. You looked down at it with judgement in your eyes.

You slowly push the glass away, “I don’t like whiskey” you looked up at her as she pushed the glass closer to you.

“Price loves whiskey” Ash teased, smiling widely as she pressed the glass into the palm of your open hand, Price looked over and she signaled to drink it. You swallowed your protest and put the glass to your lips, taking a swig and putting the glass down. Forcing the gag back down your throat.

“S-sophisticated” You shook the taste out of your mouth and heard a deep huff.

Turning, your eyes meet Prices again. You hear a scrape of a chair as Ash scurries off, leaving you to deal with this on your own. “You like whiskey?” He smirked. You looked down at the glass and gently swirled it.

“No” you admitted, price looked amused.

“Why’d you drink it?”

You’d been caught, you look up at him with panic. “No reason, wanted to try it” *good save dumbass*.

Price hummed in satisfaction to your slight panic. Sitting next to you where Ash had been momentarily. “Why’d you join the military?”

The conversations were soothing. You had realized it was 11:47 when you looked down at Prices Watch. Surprised you weren’t wasted yet. But to be honest you weren’t even slightly drunk, you were having to much fun with talking, talking and talking. His accent was intoxicating, the only drug you needed for the night. You didn’t need a glass of anything to get drunk off this man.

“I need to head back to the office” Price stood, looking at you with contentment. You had been on this task force for only a few weeks and this was the first time you felt welcomed, felt like you belonged.

You watched him leave. “Wait” you got up, rushing to his side and grabbing his arm. “Can we.. do this again?” His eyes widened but he smiled. The air felt light. The buzz of people drowned out by pure bliss as his eyes squinted and he smiled.

*Fuck*, you looked at him with a smile, blank thoughts. But he left, leaving you standing in that bar wishing you went home with him. Wishing you asked him to drop you off at base—

You heard your name, as you turn, you see Ash stumbling to you. Ghost and Gaz not far behind. Ash was wasted. Maybe it was better you stayed, she needed help home.

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zefirart · 2 years ago

Note

so I WANT to like Bunet, but I'm struggling a bit. Would you like to rant about your boy here? <3

Hello, thank you for sending the ask! And don't worry, i got you >:) I'll gladly rant like a possessed soul about this man.

By general stuff i'd say the things that i like when it comes to him are:

Visuals since i think he's very handsome (to not say hot) and i'm a little gay

His voice! Both in english and japanese, they're pleasing to my ears

How he has like a worrying amount of game (His pact bond support + pact bond wake up events... sheesh)

How passionate he is about cooking even if he can be a "little" off the shits when it comes to wanting to taste try things. And while get why some people are put off by it i find his genuine passion for this craft and wish to improve and learn more and more to be eye catching to me. I think i happen to find that just to be purely relatable as someone who is VERY passionate about what i enjoy.

Even if he comes off as weird because of a part of his shtick, he's genuinely a sweet man! and you know, i like that sort of stuff.

But now, since i told my friends i would go IN DEPTH when ranting about him take this as a bit of me going over his supports + wake up events (no bond supports because i don't have easy access to those for him and i'm lazy to look it up on youtube but i'll do vague mentions of some i read) and talking a bit about how i see him as a character, an “analysis” (more like gushing like crazy) of sorts if you will! It will all be under the cut as to not clog people's dashboards.

There will be spoilers for a character that you can recruit in chapter 21 so PLEASE be aware if it’s something u don’t want to know!

Ok so for background we have his ally notebook "After bandits razed his parents’ bistro, he competed to become a royal chef. Bunet didn’t win, but Fogado made him a retainer."

We know that he wants to reestablish the bistro and is making dishes whenever he can for it as said in his C support with Merrin:

Bunet: I want you to be the first to experience my newest recipe. Merrin: Oh. Is this for a cookbook? Bunet: For a restaurant, actually. I want to reestablish my parents' bistro after the war is over. Bunet: I have been crafting new dishes for the menu in my spare time.

Considering how important cooking it's really sweet to see how the passion even translates to his desire to rebuild the establishment his parents ran and hell that's also an important place for him because of his bond with Fogado.

Bunet: We have a long history─sharing meals together in my parents' bistro almost every day. Bunet: More than the meals, it was the hours we spent talking─well after patrons left─that I cherished.

(C support with Fogado)

From how fondly he talks of the time spent together with him in there, it shows that it's a place that he holds dear despite the painful end it had as Bunet straight up said to Fogado that the image of the destroyed bistro was burned in his mind:

Fogado: Yeah. When I heard about the bandit raid on your town, I was devastated. Fogado: There was basically nothing left. Your parents' cozy bistro...a pile of ashes. Bunet: That image is burned in my memory.

(A support with Fogado)

While related to the bistro but not necessarily important to this per se, i think his bond convo with Tiki is adorable:

Bunet: My parents ran a bistro, until it was attacked and razed by bandits. Bunet: Forgive me, Tiki... I do not mean to burden you with my feelings. You are just so easy to talk to. Tiki: That's all right. I appreciate you sharing that with me. Tiki: Chin up, Bunet. I know you'll make your parents proud. I have faith in you!

(A bond conversation with Tiki)

Considering Bunet is someone who takes failure VERY seriously even if what he did was liked per se, the fact Tiki encourages him this way is simply sweet to see. But on topic of him taking failure to heart, let me talk about some of those instances in which it shows!

Bunet: I entered that contest to become the royal court's chef, and…I lost. Bunet: It was the greatest shame of my life. Bunet: Yet you found it in your heart to overlook my failure and hire me as your personal chef. Bunet: I could never pay you back for that kindness.

(B support with Fogado)

Fogado: And then when I heard about the cooking tournament, I knew you'd enter. Fogado: There was no way you'd miss a chance to show off to the whole queendom. Fogado: If you think about it, your culinary skills are the reason we were reunited. Bunet: I did lose the contest, however. Fogado: Heh heh─this again! Bunet, it's not a big deal. You were out of practice. Fogado: If there was another contest today, you'd win hands down. Bunet: Oh, Fogado… Thank you.

(A support with Fogado)

Bunet: A chef's sacred duty is to make the right food for the occasion...and I failed. Bunet: I made something far worse than a bad dish. I made...the wrong dish. Pandreo: Bunet, it's not like that. Bunet: I am your friend and I let you down. A mere apology will not suffice. Please, strike me.

(B support with Pandreo)

As you can see from how he still feels about his loss at the contest you can see how TRULY passionate he is when it comes to cooking. Even when Fogado says his culinary skills are what brought them together he still points out his failure and only lets it go when Fogado says that he'd win if there was another contest (which shows how fucking sweet their friendship is)

NOW, besides how passionate he is, he's also a perfectionist, not only it shows with the fact how long he held onto losing a contest, but by how BAD he takes failure to the point of maybe being a little too dramatic even if ultimately what he did was great but simply not fitting for a party.

But while cooking is not the first thing you'd think as an art i can see the love and effort he puts into it the same way an artist would to their work and as someone who feels horrible sometimes about how something i made is not "good enough" even if it's just to my own standards i understand him taking it bad (hell even i sometimes take failure, even if it's not necessarily for art in a very dramatic way. I unfortunately can't make fun of him on that)

That said, i like that he has a garden for his own ingredients. It's not the most deep thing on earth but you know, it shows how he has more skills outside of cooking and taste testing!

Mauvier: Oh, is this your garden? Bunet: Mauvier, what are you doing here? Mauvier: Keeping guard. What manner of vegetables are you growing? Bunet: I plant a variety this time of year, though most won't grow until later. Bunet: Nothing is better than homegrown produce. Cook it just a bit and you have a masterpiece.

(C support with Mauvier)

Outside of just planting his own vegetables for cooking, gardening is overall just a hobby of his growing flowers too in his garden. The fact he likes flowers is very cute to me.

Mauvier: You are also raising flowers. Are they for cooking as well? Bunet: Oh, no. These flowers are just for looking at. And smelling.

(C support with Mauvier)

Jean: Wow, that's pretty swollen. This is definitely some sort of insect sting. Bunet: Well, I tend plants on the side. Probably got stung while I was in the garden.

(C support with Jean)

"You should know, I'm growing these flowers as a hobby."

(Pact bond wake up event 2, he mentions growing flowers too even if you wake up soon!)

Bunet: I dislike parties. Too noisy, I find. Like a dish with many strong flavors all at once. Pandreo: Ah, too bad. I guess that's the price you pay for those acute senses of yours.

(C support with Pandreo)

Dislikes: strong odors, sunburns, training, loud places, bright places, heavily flavored food

(Ally notebook at rank C)

It’s not something that is a MUST know but i think the fact he dislikes parties and overall noisy places is very relatable (to me at least) so i wanted to just put that out! Strong odors, bright places, heavily flavored food, considering Pandreo does say he has acute senses it makes sense.

But let's throw away how cute he is with flowers and his #relatable moments for a sec and talk a bit about him personality wise! He's eccentric as hell and people tend to misunderstand him (as he says in his A support with Merrin and shows in supports like his C with Alfred)

Merrin: I'm sorry, Bunet. I had no idea you wanted to be friends. Merrin: Looks like I was all wrong about you. Bunet: There's no need to apologize. I am quite used to being misunderstood. Bunet: As a lifelong eccentric, it is something of a chronic condition for me.

Bunet: Prince Alfred. Might I ask you for a quick lick? Alfred: Run that by me again, Bunet… Bunet: Forgive me, sir. I can explain more clearly. Bunet: Those flowers you're wearing. I should quite like to acquaint one of them with my taste buds.

And while yes, the quick lick thing is odd as fuck and i get why people are put off by it he does show moments in which he realizes (be it by himself or someone being like "buddy, no") that he stepped out of line.

Alfred: You wanna taste a flower? Bunet: Hm, I seem to have crossed a line. Please disregard my request. Alfred: Hahaha! You're a riot, Bunet! Alfred: It's no big deal. I'll see if I can get you a flower like these.

(His C support with Alfred)

In this case Alfred is at first very "what" about his question until he explains and THEN after he explains himself, Alfred just out of curiosity asks that and Bunet just takes it as "oh i messed up" and recoils until he's met with Alfred being. Alfred.

This conversation is followed by another "quick lick" joke when Alfred says he's beefy and he's like "would you like a quick lick yourself?" and obviously Alfred just says no, that he's paying him a compliment. That said Bunet doesn't push at all that after his explanation and is just up to help him out with building form via changing his diet when Alfred expresses his wish to get bulkier.

Bunet: Divine One. I owe you an apology for my rudeness the other day. Alear: We talked through it. And I got my clothing washed─all fine.

Bunet: Divine One, I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable. Alear: It's OK. I still support you, even if I had to draw the line.

(His A support with Alear)

Now, we know that Alear is someone who's very willing to draw a line or just be honest when necessary and it shows in the B support when Bunet stepped out of line—even if the intention wasn't a gross one—and Alear was obviously not comfortable with it and simply cut him off on it. The fact he apologizes for his behavior in the prior support shows that even if at first it doesn't click in his brain, he's capable of understanding when he's wrong and obviously apologizing for it.

That said for some fucking reason his b and a supports with Jade keeps on coming back to him wanting to quick lick the armor for some damn reason even if they get somehow end up getting somewhat well enough by the end of it????? That was... a support line yeah. And the way his A support with Pandreo just end up dropping the shtick out of nowhere and i think the problem i find with those is purely the fact that they try being “hee hee comedic” but they have the comedic timing of a cardboard (none)

That aside!!! I'd like to talk about bits in which he's shown to be a good man, because as i said before he is!

Bunet: I didn't come for firewood today. Bunet: Here. I made you a salmon stew. I hope it's like what you remember. Anna: Oh, wow! Can I eat it now?! Bunet: Yes, please do. While it's warm. Anna: Thanks a bunch! Anna: … Anna: Mmm! That warms me right to my bones. It tastes just like my family stew too. Bunet: I'm glad. It took some doing. Bunet: I had to research your hometown's cuisine and then seek out all the right spices. Bunet: I wasn't confident that I had nailed down the flavor… Anna: So that's why it tastes like home. Aww, you did all that for me? I'm really touched! Anna: I was getting so homesick that it was messing up my woodcutting. Anna: But that little taste of home cheered me right up again! I'm ready to split a hundred logs! Bunet: If you ever feel homesick, come talk to me. I can at least take your taste buds back there.

(His A support with Anna)

For context in the prior support he asks her how he got so good at wood chopping and the conversation makes anna feel homesick for the fish stew they had, he notices that and in the A support he brings her one like shown in the dialogue! As eccentric and he is he goes out of his way to help people out even if sometimes it's via cooking.

Bunet: The scent of fresh flowers has a way of easing the soul. Here, sniff. Mauvier: Huh… Mauvier: What a lovely fragrance. Mauvier: You are correct. It is quite calming. Bunet: You've been working too hard. Why not drop by here to relax now and then? Mauvier: That sounds…nice. Mauvier: Yes. I believe I will come by from time to time.

(His C support with Mauvier)

Mauvier: Your garden is quite lovely. I admit, I have found excuses to visit lately. Bunet: It really means that much to you? Bunet: I'll harvest some vegetables and cook up a nice ratatouille. The taste will move you, I promise. Mauvier: There's no need for you to go to such lengths. Mauvier: Simply taking time to pause here occasionally is more than enough for me. Bunet: Everyone needs a little downtime. And they can always use a good meal too. Mauvier: … Mauvier: I was one of the Four Hounds. Mauvier: So now I work to protect the weak, as an act of atonement for my past actions. Mauvier: People suffer daily. I fail them by allowing myself any pleasure, no matter how simple. Bunet: Don't think like that.

(His B support with Mauvier)

Bunet: Mauvier, I have some presents for you. Mauvier: Are these vegetables from your garden? Bunet: Yes. Appetizing, aren't they? They're for you. Mauvier: Bunet. I told you I do not want to treat myself. Not while others suffer. Bunet: That's too bad. I suppose these vegetables will just rot, then. Mauvier: … Bunet: Such a shame. I worked so hard to grow them. Mauvier: … Mauvier: Why do you pay so much attention to me? Bunet: Hm. I suppose you remind me of the plants from my garden. I want to help you grow. Bunet: That scrumptious, fragrant goodness inside has to be nurtured so it doesn't wither away. Mauvier: Heh… You are trying to make me feel better about my lot in life. Mauvier: Do you truly believe I can grow, and not just rot away? Bunet: Hm… I don't think I can answer that for you. You have to decide for yourself. Bunet: In the meantime, seriously, eat these vegetables. Mauvier: Yes. Of course. Bunet: You can grill them if you like, but they'll really shine if you let me cook them up for you. Mauvier: Thank you, Bunet. Mauvier: I shall continue looking for a way to grow so as to not rot away. For you.

(His A support with Mauvier)

I'm going to admit that this is one of my favorite support lines of Bunet's alongside the one with Fogado. Obviously Bunet knows Mauvier's background, yet he wants him to relax and take a break like anyone else as shown in both C and B support, telling him that he can drop by there and relax or that everyone needs downtime.

What catches my eye in the B support is how Mauvier talks about how he works to protect the weak as an attonement and ultimately is failing them by taking time for himself to relax. To which Bunet reacts with telling him to not think like that and ultimately it shows why he reacts that way because he sees Mauvier's goodness deep down and doesn't want it to wither away, which shows in him telling him to take time for himself too or even telling him he'll make him a dish.

"Do you truly believe i can grow, and not just rot away." "Hm... I don't think i can answer that for you. You have to decide for yourself." these two lines hit me specially because while he WANTS to help him grow, he's not the one to decide if Mauvier wants to do so, that's for him to choose. And Mauvier's last line? It shows that Bunet's kindness and desire for him to be a better version of himself hit him which i think it's very sweet and i maybe cried at this support

Jean: I can give you some herbs to reduce the swelling. Take care not to touch the wound. Bunet: I'm sure there's no need for that. Save your herbs for someone who could really use them. Jean: It doesn't work like that. Jean: We don't know what kind of insect stung you. If you leave it untreated, it might get serious. Bunet: I see... Forgive me. I suppose you would be more knowledgeable about such things. Jean: It's all right. Now you know. Just let me apply the dressing like so, and... Jean: All done. Nothing to worry about now. Just leave it be, even if it starts to itch. Bunet: Understood. I'll try not to touch it. Bunet: Please, take this. A small token of thanks. Jean: Wow... What's this pretty flower? Bunet: Some chamomile from my garden. It has a nice, soothing aroma, don't you think? Jean: Thank you. I appreciate it. Bunet: You ought to come visit my garden sometime. I think you'd like it there.

(C support with Jean)

Ok 1. The fact he’s willing to just let the stung be as is and have Jean treat someone else with the herbs because they might need it more... sir no. 2 Him apologizing because in the end Jean is the expert in medicine, not him. 3. Bunet giving him a flower as a little thank you gift???? Telling him that he should visit the garden because he think he’d like it there??? Idk why this man simply has sweets supports with children with small acts like these.

Jean: Remember the chamomile you gave me? I looked into it, and it has medicinal uses. Jean: It's a painkiller and can sometimes reduce inflammation. Do you maybe have more? Bunet: Interesting. Bunet: Well, there's not much of it, but what I do have, I will gladly give you. Jean: Thank you. Even a little will help. Bunet: It makes me happy to know that my little flowers will help people feel better. Bunet: Though, I must say...I'll be sorry to see them leave home after all my careful tending. Jean: Don't worry, Bunet. I won't let a single flower go to waste.

(B support with Jean)

The fact being able to help people feel better with his flowers and he’s happy about it is SO sweet and cute, also “I must say...I'll be sorry to see them leave home after all my careful tending” He kind of sounds like a dad seeing his kids go ngl.

Jean: You did me a big favor the other day. Jean: I put that flower you gave me to good use, and it helped in treating a lot of our people. Bunet: Good. I'm sure those little blooms of mine were happy to help. Jean: Here. This is something in return. Bunet: Hm... Flower seeds. Jean: You seemed to care a lot about the flower you gave me. Jean: So I thought it must have made you sad to see the space where it used to grow. Jean: This probably isn't much of a replacement, but...it's something to fill the space. Bunet: How thoughtful. I will make sure to give these seeds a loving, supportive home. Jean: It's the least I can do for the help you gave me. Jean: Well, I think that's all, so... Bunet: Jean, wait. Jean: Yes? Bunet: Are there any other flowers with medicinal uses that I could grow for you? Bunet: Sometimes I'm sad to see my beautiful flowers being plucked, but not when they help people. Bunet: I want to contribute however I can. Jean: That's really nice of you, Bunet. It means a lot that you're willing to pitch in. Jean: I'm going to do my part, too, of course. I won't leave it all to you. Bunet: Wonderful. I'm sure my flowers will appreciate having another caretaker around.

(A support with Jean)

First of all he still sounds like a dad talking about his children, but his children are flowers and it’s genuinely so cute to see how much he likes his flowers. Second, Jean giving him seeds because he thought Bunet would be sad about seeing that space empty?????? Him saying he’ll make sure to give those seeds a loving and supportive home?????’ This is so fucking sweet it makes me tender. And lastly! Him wanting to help out more because even if sometimes it makes him sad to see his flowers be plucked if it helps people then it doesn’t makes me insane, it shows his kindness really well!

Also this support line is not the only time in which he calls the flowers “my beautiful flowers” or just refers to them as something cute, it’s genuinely so sweet.

I’d like to derail the topic a little because while i have brought up his supports with Fogado i haven’t talked of their bond per se.

Bunet: Well, after all, I'm not just your retainer but also your personal chef. Bunet: It is my duty to know what you like and prepare your meals accordingly. Fogado: I know! I'm a lucky man. Fogado: But you forgot one thing. Bunet: What?! Does it need more lemon? Is the presentation not to your liking? Fogado: Oh, not the dish─the titles. Retainer, personal chef. You left one out. Fogado: Best friend. Bunet: Ah. Right you are, Fogado. Bunet: We have a long history─sharing meals together in my parents' bistro almost every day. Bunet: More than the meals, it was the hours we spent talking─well after patrons left─that I cherished. Fogado: Yes. I'll always remember those days. Unlike somebody, who forgot we were even friends... Bunet: I didn't forget. For friends and flavors alike, my memory is long and exacting. Bunet: It's just that now I see you as more of a savior than a friend. Fogado: Psh, a savior? Me? How come? Bunet: Heh... You don't understand. Of course.

(C support with Fogado)

Bunet: I could tell you were enjoying it because of that scrumptious smile on your face. Fogado: Oh, before I forget. We need to circle back and talk about what you said the other day. Bunet: What do you mean? Fogado: You know, the "savior" thing. I've been racking my brain, but I can't figure out what you meant. Bunet: Oh. That. Bunet: I entered that contest to become the royal court's chef, and...I lost. Bunet: It was the greatest shame of my life. Bunet: Yet you found it in your heart to overlook my failure and hire me as your personal chef. Bunet: I could never pay you back for that kindness. Fogado: Ah, I see. But, Bunet, I didn't really care about the contest itself. Fogado: I was just glad that you entered because it brought you back into my life. Bunet: What? Was that your plan all along? Fogado: Of course. It had been years since the last time we talked at your parents' bistro. Bunet: That's true... What a bitter separation that was.

(B support with Fogado)

Bunet: Indeed. Something you said has been eating at my mind. You...searched for me? Fogado: Yeah. When I heard about the bandit raid on your town, I was devastated. Fogado: There was basically nothing left. Your parents' cozy bistro...a pile of ashes. Bunet: That image is burned in my memory. Fogado: I felt so helpless. I had come as fast as I could, but...it was too late. Fogado: You'd fled along with everyone else. I had no idea where you might have gone. Bunet: I'm sorry... It all happened so suddenly, I didn't have a chance to tell you. Fogado: It wasn't your fault. At any rate...after you left, I never stopped looking for you. Fogado: I missed your delicious cooking, but more than that, I missed our conversations. Bunet: I missed them too. Fogado: And then when I heard about the cooking tournament, I knew you'd enter. Fogado: There was no way you'd miss a chance to show off to the whole queendom. Fogado: If you think about it, your culinary skills are the reason we were reunited. Bunet: I did lose the contest, however. Fogado: Heh heh─this again! Bunet, it's not a big deal. You were out of practice. Fogado: If there was another contest today, you'd win hands down. Bunet: Oh, Fogado... Thank you. Bunet: I'm grateful you kept looking for me. That is why we can enjoy delicious moments like this. Bunet: You truly are my savior. Fogado: "Savior" still feels a little...strong, but, eh, I'll take it. Fogado: And just so you know...I'm never letting you leave me like that again. Bunet: The feeling is entirely mutual. Bunet: I am your personal chef and retainer. Bunet: Most importantly, I am your best friend. And as such, I swear to be true. Fogado: I'm glad. Nothing is sweeter than your friendship, Bunet.

(A support with Fogado)

They’ve been best friends for years, spending hours and hour talking with each other and having meals at Bunet’s parents bistro, you can tell from that alone they’re extremely close. But the fact Fogado searched for him after they lost contact? Fogado making him his personal chef not out of kindness but because he simply wanted him back to his life??????? The fact Bunet thanks him for having kept looking for him????

Their bond, their friendship is so strong it’s endearing and shows a lot of how important they’re to each other! Bunet outside of being his chef and retainer seeing him as his “savior” because he’s so grateful for all he’s done that it’s just harder to see him as a friend, even if by the end of their A support he calls himself his best friend. God their friendship just makes me melt, it’s so genuine and makes me soooooooooo happy that they were able to reconnect after years of being apart. It’s what they deserve.

And NOW! Because i said this man has game, the instances in which he straight up shows it:

Bunet: The tomatoes and blueberries you see there, they were inspired by your beautiful eyes. Bunet: Enjoy. Alear: All right. Thank you. Alear: ... Alear: This is...incredible! It's better than anything I've ever tasted! Bunet: I am pleased to hear it. I was determined to make this dish something extraordinary for you. Bunet: When I cook with you in mind, the food tastes... transcendent. I would like to do so more often. Bunet: That is, I would like to cook with you in mind...forever...if it pleased you. Alear: Do you mean... Bunet: I mean, I would like to be your partner, Divine One. Bunet: If you found the food I made for you pleasing, that is. Bunet: But if it's inconvenient, I'll remember this dish fondly and return to my chef's duties. Alear: Oh... No. Alear: That doesn't sound good at all. Please, stay. I'd like you to make more incredible dishes for me. Alear: Actually, Bunet, even if you didn't cook me a single meal, I'd want you to stay. Alear: Here, this Pact Ring...it's for you. Bunet: Thank you! The ring is beautiful...just like you. Alear: All the cooking aside, there's so much we'll get to learn about each other. Bunet: I am looking forward to it, Alear. Bunet: This moment tastes of pure sweetness. But I will savor all the flavors we cook up together.

(S support with Alear)

Ok first of all, just like in his C support with Alear he compliments their eyes in the first support it comes off a little more awkward, mostly because Alear is unsure if he meant it as a compliment, while in this one it comes out more smoothly. Secondly the fact he cooks w alear in mind and would like to do so forever???

How Bunet just drops he’d like to be their partner but like, the fact he’s willing to just let it be if it’s inconvenient and he’ll just hold the dish (made thinking of alear) fondly???? I’d personally die if someone said that to me, i’m like that.

And more leaning to Alear on this one, the fact they want him around even if he didn’t cook a thing for them, how they’ll get to learn so much about each other??? the fact Bunet looks forward to it too??? They’re so cute what the fuck! Also him using his good ol’ food analogies to show how happy he is and how he’s excited for the future with Alear... cute. very. very. cute.

"Breakfast is ready. It is time to get up, don't you think, my dear partner? As I expected. Still asleep. Well, I've prepared a sweet dish for you. It is sweet like our relationship is now and, I hope, always will be. Life is full of so many different flavors, and I've tried to taste as many as I could. But this time we share together, it tastes like nothing else I've ever encountered. Our recipe is unique and perfect, and it belongs to us and us alone. Now, eat up so you can win your battles. Tomorrow, and the day after that I want to watch you taste all life has to offer. And i want to be there to make sure it's delicious."

(S support wake up event 1)

BRINGING BREAKFAST TO BED?????? Peak romance methinks. His food analogies are there like always but how fondly he talks about their relationship and how unique their bond, their flavor is, it’s adorable 1. how in love he is and 2. how dear he holds it. Him wanting to be there to see Alear “taste all life has to offer” and make sure that it’s delicious (so basically, good, happy) makes me insane, it’s adorable!!!!!!!

"Haha, now be honest. Was it the word "breakfast" that stirred you from your slumber or was it your excitement to see me? I choose to believe it was the latter."

(S support wake up event 1 if Alear wakes up soon)

Self explanatory i think????? Anyway, he’s cute.

"No food from me. This time I've brought you flowers, Divine One. When you gave me the ring you said there was so much for us to learn about each other. I want to learn everything about you, and I want to tell you everything about me. You should know, I'm growing these flowers as a hobby. They're my favorite species. Its red petals are so bright and bold. And the blue bud Its scent is almost as sweet as you. Good morning. Now be honest, do you prefer my delicious food or my beautiful flowers? Though, you need not worry I will be happy to wake you with both from now on."

(S support wake up event 2)

The fact he kept to heart Alear’s words about having much to learn about each other and proceeding to share a bit about himself... I’m soft. His favorite species being ones that resemble alear in in color and how the scent is almost sweet as them? Romance king. Also the fact he’s just up to bring flowers and breakfast to wake them up? This is my personal taste talking but someone does that for me and i’m marrying them twice.

“You know I enjoy growing flowers and herbs. Now, next time I come you must tell me something about yourself. I want to know everything. The sweet things, and yes, the sour things too.”

(S support wake up event 2 if Alear wakes up soon)

We know he shares that he grows flowers even if Alear wakes up after the whole chat, but the fact he wants to know the good things and the sadder ones?? it’s just a sweet way of showing he cares about them.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk in which i derailed the topic 5000 times but i hope it helps! And if not.......... at least it shows i’m a little off the shits myself >:’D

#text.#Thank you for sending this ask! was fun to write a replyyyy #reminds me of the analysis i wrote for de.en and ga.ius.......... those those had a more serious tone to them GJSLDKFGSJ #anyway :) if this appears in the main tags i am so sorry for my brainrot

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dollgxtz · 4 months ago

Text

His Watchful Eye

Word Count: 8.9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, tw vomit, sharp objects, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, drugged reader, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, ownership, Xavier appears for a bit

AN: Hi all! Im SOO excited to be writing this. Its refreshing to add to the lack of yandere fics for the boys! I’m unsure if I will make this multi chaptered but if there’s enough demand I won’t want to disappoint! PLEASE read the tags. This is not for everyone, and if your sensitive to the topics that show up then I would advise skipping this story because I did not hold back and it only gets worse from here! (*^ ‿ <*)♡

Edit: If you're coming back to reread this and notice chapter one is different, no you aren't crazy! Its been completely rewritten with more dialogue and more scenes. Its also longer! Enjoy :)

"Good girl, keep chewing. Don't bite your tongue" All you could mutter was a moan, unable to think straight in your drug hazed state. You managed to swallow. All you felt was warm heat radiating off of slightly pale flesh. You blushed and planted your face in his neck. Sylus put the spoon down, amused by your affection. Getting up from the sofa in the room, he laid you down on his bed. He began unbuckling his belt.

Read part 2, pt 3

You press your finger to the scanner outside your apartment door, the faint blue glow lighting up your fingerprint as it recognizes you. With a soft click, the lock disengages. A wide grin spreads across your face as you step inside, the day replaying in your head. Xavier. Xavier, of all people. You can hardly believe it. His sudden confession still rings in your ears, sending an excited shiver down your spine.

You hadn’t expected it at all. The night had started so normally. Xavier had asked you to accompany him on a late night food run, the air between you light and filled with that easy camaraderie you’d always shared. And then, without warning, he’d looked at you, really looked at you, and the words had tumbled out, almost like he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“I like you,” he’d said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. “I…I think I have for a while now. And I just…I thought you should know. I don't want to pretend to be just your friend anymore.”

For a moment, you’d been too stunned to respond, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process what he’d just said. Xavier, the man who’d haunted your thoughts ever since you had joined UNICORNS, who you’d convinced yourself could never see you as more than a friend, had just confessed he liked you. It had felt surreal, like something out of a dream.

When you’d finally found your voice, you’d stammered out some kind of nervous response, your cheeks burning as you tried to keep your composure. But he’d just smiled, that small grin that always made your heart skip a beat, and you’d known he understood. The rest of the night had passed in a blur, his confession playing over and over in your mind.

His ash-blond hair, always well maintained, and those piercing blue eyes that always seemed to look straight through you—they’d haunted your thoughts for so long. And now, finally, after so much time agonizing over whether he felt the same, he’d just come out and said it. He likes me too.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as your heart does a little flip. You want to scream, to laugh, to dance around your apartment. But first things first. You untie your shoes, fumbling slightly as you’re distracted by the memory of his smile, that faint blush on his cheeks when he spoke. But just as you’re about to pull the second shoe off, a sound stops you cold. A creak, faint but unmistakable, comes from somewhere in the corner of your apartment.

Your breath catches. You straighten up slowly, heart already starting to pound. It’s nothing. Probably just the building settling, you tell yourself. Don’t be paranoid. You take a deep breath and focus on your shoes again, setting them neatly by the door. But the moment you step into the kitchen, the unease creeps back in. The silence feels too heavy, pressing against your ears.

You grab a glass from the cabinet, pouring juice into it with trembling hands. The cool liquid against your lips does little to soothe your nerves. You take another sip, trying to shake off the tension, but then you hear it. Shuffling. Faint, deliberate, coming from your bedroom. This time, there’s no mistaking it.

The glass nearly slips from your hand as your body goes rigid. Your mind races. Someone’s in the apartment. Someone’s in the apartment. The thought hits you like ice water. Adrenaline surges through your veins, and you feel every beat of your heart like a drum against your ribs.

You glance around, eyes darting to the couch. You know what’s there. Your hand dips under the cushions, fingers wrapping around the cold, solid grip of your pistol. It’s not the first time you’ve been on edge living alone, but it’s the first time it’s felt like more than paranoia.

Gun in hand, you move silently toward the bedroom, each step deliberate, your breaths shallow. Don’t panic, you tell yourself. If there’s someone there, you’re ready. But no amount of mental preparation can stop the trembling in your legs as you approach the slightly ajar bedroom door. You push it open slowly, every nerve screaming, every muscle taut. With one swift movement, you dart into the room, gun raised, finger hovering over the trigger.

Nothing.

The room is empty. The bed, the corners, the shadows—all unoccupied. Only your large collection of plushies stare back at you. You lower the gun slightly, a nervous laugh bubbling up in your throat. God, you’re such an idiot. Scaring yourself over nothing.

Still, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. You check the closet, under the bed. Nothing. Your shoulders relax a fraction. Okay. Fine. False alarm. You reach for your phone, instinctively wanting to text Xavier. But your hand comes up empty. Right. Left it in the kitchen.

You sigh and head back toward the kitchen, rolling your eyes at yourself. Paranoid. Just paranoid. But before you make it two steps out of the bedroom, arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you off your feet.

You scream, thrashing wildly, but the grip on you is unyielding. Panic floods every corner of your mind as you manage to kick backward, your heel connecting with a solid shin. A grunt of pain follows, and the arms loosen just enough for you to twist partially around, only to see another figure—a second assailant—moving toward you.

“Idiot! Boss said gently! Gently!” one of them hisses, his voice muffled and harsh.

“She’s fighting too much for gentle!” the other snaps. You’re screaming now, kicking and clawing, desperate to get free. But they’re too strong, their weight pressing down on you as you’re forced to the ground. You can barely breathe, the pressure on your chest crushing.

Your vision blurs as tears sting your eyes. Desperation claws at your throat. No. This can’t be happening. Fight. Keep fighting. But the second figure pulls something from his pocket, a white cloth, and your stomach drops. You know what’s coming.

“Now, now, miss,” he says, his voice mockingly soothing. “No need to make this harder than it has to be. This will all be over soon.”

You twist your head, trying to bite, to scream, anything to stop him. But the cloth is pressed over your mouth and nose. A sickly-sweet smell fills your senses, burning your throat and nose as you try to hold your breath. Your body bucks and writhes, every instinct screaming for oxygen, but the fight is draining out of you.

Your limbs grow heavy, your vision darkening around the edges. No. Not like this. Not like this. Xavier… His name flashes through your mind, a beacon of warmth in the suffocating cold. You try to hold onto it, to him, but it’s slipping away, drowning in the black void swallowing you whole.

The last thing you see is the gleaming black beaks of two bird-like masks staring down at you, swirling together in your vision until your ultimately consumed into darkness.

Sylus was not a man who entertained the idea of relationships. Such luxuries were foreign to him, out of reach for someone whose life was dictated by danger and unrelenting speed. Relationships required trust and time—two things Sylus had no room for. More importantly, they required vulnerability. And vulnerability in his world was a weakness that could and would be exploited.

Even if he allowed himself to care for someone, he knew the inevitable result. They’d become a target, a pawn in the high-stakes game he played daily. Snatched, ransomed, used, discarded. It was a cruel, predictable pattern. So, Sylus lived without attachments, surrounded by layers of calculated isolation.

The closest things he had to "trust" were Luke and Kieran, his most loyal henchmen. Their loyalty was borne of utility and mutually assured survival. And then there was Mephisto. The crow was his creation, a mechanical marvel with sharp instincts and unwavering obedience. Mephisto wasn’t just a tool—he was an extension of Sylus himself, flawless in execution and incapable of deceit. The bird’s artificial intelligence made him a reliable companion, though Mephisto’s disdain for being called a “pet” often brought a faint smirk to Sylus’s lips.

But even surrounded by this curated circle of functionality, there were moments when the solitude gnawed at Sylus. A faint, unspoken yearning that he buried deep. He didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it…until the day Mephisto’s surveillance captured something that unexpectedly caught his eye.

A man that had sold him a subpar protocore was hiding from him. Sylus had known from the start but sometimes he liked to play little games with his prey. He wanted to see if the man actually had the guts to lie to the leader of Onychinus. And lo and behold. Sylus could barely hold back a grin when shaking the man's hand to seal the deal, who was wistfully unaware of the torment to come his way in the next few days.

Sometimes, watching prey squirm before the inevitable reckoning brought a kind of satisfaction. This man would learn, as all his enemies did, that Sylus always collected his debts…and always in blood.

Mephisto tracked the target effortlessly, his mechanical eyes capturing every movement, every desperate attempt to evade Sylus’s reach. The feed was sharp, clinical, until something unexpected happened. The dealer collided with someone in the crowded streets of Linkon, sending their belongings scattering. She was extremely apologetic, helping pick up the scattered belongings he had dropped.

Sylus’s attention was immediately drawn to the woman the dealer had bumped into. She crouched swiftly, apologizing as she helped gather the scattered items. Her gestures were quick but deliberate, her expression earnest as she returned the belongings. The dealer sneered at her, grumbling something vulgar before storming off, but Sylus didn’t care about him anymore.

His eyes were locked on her.

This feeling.

Someone like her wouldn't have caught his attention normally. Simple clothes...a uniform? But there was something…something in the way she carried herself, in the way her lips quirked in a self-conscious smile after the encounter. Sylus couldn’t place the feeling that stirred within him, but it was foreign and intrusive, like a fragment of a dream he couldn’t quite recall.

But what he did know how to do, was gather information. He quickly directed Mephisto to follow his new "target".

“Mephisto,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the still air of his office. “Follow her.”

He would deal with that man later. This girl, this random, insignificant girl had caught his attention. And he would figure out why. He was very good at problem solving. This issue would be over soon. She was just another average Linkon citizen after all, she couldn't be that interesting. He would get bored soon.

The bird shifted focus immediately, trailing the woman with silent precision. Sylus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her every move. She walked with purpose, her steps quick but not hurried. There was an air of quiet determination about her that intrigued him.

He noted the uniform she was wearing once again, the puzzle pieces clicking in his head she approached a tall window filled building.

“Zoom in,” he murmured, his gaze locked on the insignia that gleamed faintly on her chest. The image sharpened, revealing the badge she had on her chest. Of course. She's apart of the infamous Hunter's Association.

With a few deft commands, Sylus accessed the Association’s data streams, pulling her name from the badge and cross-referencing it with everything he could find. The information flowed like water: her name, her division, her recent assignments. She was relatively new but already distinguished, working with one of the Association’s top teams. Impressive. Too impressive to be ordinary.

He couldn’t send Mephisto into the building, but it didn’t matter. He entertained himself by combing through her digital footprint, piecing together the puzzle of her life. Medical records, former addresses, archived conversations…he devoured it all. And yet, the more he learned, the more questions arose.

Mephisto signaled to him that she had left the building and he promptly turned his attention to his camera again. She walked out with a slightly bubbly, shorter haired girl. The pair were deeply engrossed in conversation before an ashy blonde fellow joined them and touched the girls arm.

“And this is...?” he muttered, his tone sharper than before. Mephisto, as if sensing the shift in his creator's mood, zoomed in on the man. Sylus studied the new arrival’s features: lean build, soft blue eyes, a demeanor that radiated comfort. It made Sylus’s skin crawl.

The trio parted ways with the shorter woman, and Sylus’s unease deepened as the man and the girl continued walking together. Their interactions were light, natural…intimate in a way that Sylus found intolerable. She laughed at something the man said, her hand brushing his shoulder briefly, and Sylus felt his stomach churn.

Were they going in the same direction?

This was once confirmed once they both got off at the same stop, walking the same path towards a set of shiny apartment buildings.

Sylus felt his jaw tighten. He wasn't sure why but seeing her this close to this soft gazed man was eliciting dangerous urges in him. The pair both went up the stairs, and out of his view.

It didn't matter. He would find your apartment number with ease. Even if it meant having Mephisto perched on the same tree branch for days. Sylus questioned his sanity for just a bit. Was he really getting this worked up over a woman he had simply happened to glance at? He closed his eyes before chuckling.

Yeah. This wasn't normal, no. But nothing about Sylus was ever normal anyways. Why would this be any different?

And so the following weeks were spent on nothing but you. He'd eventually mustered the courage to see you in person (at a distance of course) and watch you a few feet away. Your voice was even more beautiful in person. And the sounds you would make when trying new sweets elicited very...intense reactions in his lower groin. He watched you and your female coworker eating sweets at a bakery. You moaned in delight as you chewed a frosting covered pastry, a bit of the white frosting dribbling down your chin. You and your friend giggled as you wiped it up, all the while Sylus felt like he was about to burst in public.

How could a scene so innocent get him going so much?

"Oh! I have to go! I have a hair appointment! Bye Tara!"

You hurriedly hugged the girl before licking your fingers and sprinting off. Sylus quickly and quietly followed behind.

Eventually, Sylus found his way into your apartment during the hours he knew you were away on missions. It wasn’t to do anything overtly invasive—at least, that’s what he told himself. He simply wanted to get a more personal look into your life, to see the pieces of you that weren’t on display in the digital world. Yet, that resolve didn’t stop him from letting his fingers graze over your clothes as he rummaged through your wardrobe.

Your taste was exactly as he’d imagined from the fragments he’d seen on your socials: practical, yet tinged with understated personality. It spoke of someone who balanced strength and beauty effortlessly. Sylus made mental notes of everything before meticulously putting it all back, ensuring not a single trace of his presence remained. Still, he wasn’t blind to the toll it was taking on him. The more he thought about you, the more he allowed himself these stolen glimpses, the deeper his longing grew.

But reality loomed over him like a dark cloud. Courting you in any traditional sense was an impossibility. It was far too dangerous. The moment word spread that Sylus, leader of Onychinus, had someone he cared about—and someone with an Aether Core, no less—it would spell doom. You’d be taken, tortured, used against him, perhaps even killed. He couldn’t let that happen. The thought alone was enough to send a shiver of fury and fear down his spine.

And yet, your Aether Core only deepened his fascination. It felt like destiny, a sign that you were meant to be intertwined. Two halves, separated only by circumstance, waiting to be connected. Was it fate, or mere delusion? Sylus didn’t care anymore. He would have you. He had to. Even if it took drastic measures.

You would remain oblivious to his plans until the time was right. That was the strategy. Yet, fate had a way of undermining even the most meticulous schemes.

It happened at a grocery store. He’d let himself get too close, drawn by the magnetic pull of your presence. Standing among the frozen foods, his gaze lingered a moment too long. When you turned, catching sight of him, his heart leapt into his throat. He quickly averted his eyes, feigning interest in the nearest shelf. But it was too late.

“Are you following me?” you asked, your tone sharp, yet your eyes betraying curiosity as they flicked over him.

Sylus laughed, a calculated, disarming sound. “I’m merely going in the same direction,” he said, his voice calm and smooth. “I suppose that’s all it takes to catch a stalking charge these days?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his tone, and then a sheepish smile broke across your face. “Ah, sorry… I guess I’m just a little jumpy lately.” You laughed lightly and extended your hand. “I’m…”

I already know your name, he thought, but he swallowed the urge to say it. Instead, he grasped your hand briefly, his composure betraying none of the fire that sparked at your touch.

“Sylus,” he said simply, the word leaving his lips like a prayer. Your touch felt electric, almost painfully vivid against the chill of the freezer aisle.

“Well, Mr. Stalker, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” you joked lightly, bowing your head apologetically. “Have a good day.”

And just like that, you were gone, your cart rattling as you pushed it down the aisle. Sylus’s hand hovered for a moment, half-reaching toward you before he clenched it into a fist. He didn’t want you to leave. Not yet. Not ever.

But this wasn’t the time. He reminded himself of the preparations still unfinished. Soundproofing, enhanced security measures, tools. Every piece of the plan needed to be perfect before he could make his move.

Unfortunately, time seemed intent on working against him.

One night, while keeping Mephisto stationed at a distance to monitor your apartment, Sylus saw something that sent a fresh wave of rage through him. You descended the stairs with the ash-blond man from before—Xavier. The pair stopped to chat, their body language familiar, intimate. Immediately, Sylus’s jaw tightened, and he barked an order to Mephisto.

“Zoom in.”

The feed tightened, the grainy image sharpening. He could see the faint smile on Xavier’s face as he spoke to you.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep at this time? Why are we getting food now?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

Xavier shrugged, his expression casual. “Didn’t get to eat today. Besides, I know you didn’t either. Makes sense to go together, right?”

Sylus’s stomach churned as he watched you laugh softly and adjust the zipper on your jacket. He could practically feel his pupils dilating as he watched the metal of the zipper run over the soft tissue of your breasts, covering them completely out of view.

“Yes, but…what did you want to tell me? Surely you don’t need to drag me all the way to a convenience store just for that,” you teased lightly.

“Two stops,” Xavier replied. “Food, and then the park. Then I’ll tell you. Deal?”

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Always so mysterious,” you said.

Sylus’s mind raced. He wasn’t a fool; he knew what this was. A ploy. A ploy to get you alone, to plant some foolish idea of romance in your head. The thought of Xavier touching you, of drawing you closer, ignited something feral inside Sylus.

He clenched his fist, his gaze hardening. Enough.

“Luke. Kieran,” he called, his voice cold and commanding as he stood and reached for his coat. “Prepare the items I requested. It’s time.”

Your heart pounds violently in your chest, the sound roaring in your ears as you jolt awake. Your head feels like it’s been split in two, the throbbing pain making it impossible to think clearly. Colors and shapes swirl chaotically behind your eyelids, the remnants of a dream that slips further away the harder you try to grasp it. Groaning in pain, you turn your head slightly, every movement sending shockwaves through your stiff muscles.

“Tylenol,” you mutter weakly, your voice barely audible and raw. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and your throat is dry. The thought of the medicine—normally stashed in your bathroom—pulls you into action. You push yourself to sit up, the sheets tangled around you. Your limbs feel sluggish, your coordination off, but you manage to shuffle toward the edge of the bed. As you stretch out a hand to steady yourself, your fingers collide with something…cold. And fleshy.

“Wasn’t expecting you to be so handsy so soon, sweetie,” a deep voice says, smooth and laced with teasing amusement.

Your breath catches in your throat. A scream bursts from you as you jerk away instinctively, the adrenaline coursing through your veins propelling you off the bed. You crash to the floor, the sharp pain of the impact radiating through your hip and shoulder. Dazed, you try to crawl backward, your hands scrabbling against the smooth, cold surface of the floor.

Before you can get far, strong hands wrap around your arms, lifting you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. You thrash against the grip, your instincts screaming at you to fight, to escape.

“Hey, calm down, honey. You’re going to hurt yourself,” the voice says again, calm and steady, but there’s an edge of command beneath the surface that makes your skin crawl.

“No! Stop! Let me go! Get out of my apartment!” you cry out, your voice breaking as your vision blurs with tears. You blink furiously, desperate to clear your eyes, desperate to see who’s holding you. Slowly, your surroundings begin to come into focus, and what you see makes your stomach twist with dread.

This isn’t your apartment.

The walls are black, their sleek surface reflecting the faint glow of the dim lights overhead. Heavy drapes hang from tall windows, blocking out any view of the outside world. Modern and sleek decor adorns the room: dark, ornate furniture with intricate carvings, sharp angles, and cold surfaces. The air smells faintly of something rich and unfamiliar, like expensive leather and faint traces of cologne. Everything about the space radiates power, wealth, and menace, a stark difference to your cozy and simple decor at home.

The arms around you loosen, and you’re placed carefully back on your feet. You stumble, pressing yourself instinctively against the nearest wall as you turn to face the man who’d spoken.

He’s very tall, his figure casting an imposing shadow in the low light. His sharp features are striking, almost too perfect, giving him an air of something inhuman. White hair with grey undertones falls just above his ears, framing a face that’s both elegant and cruel in its beauty. His eyes…they’re the worst part. Piercing and a crimson red, they seem to see through you, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“W-who the hell are you?” you demand, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound strong. Fear claws at your chest, making your breathing shallow and quick.

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Sylus,” he says simply, as if that single word answers everything. His voice is low, smooth, and unhurried, each syllable dripping with confidence.

“Where am I?! Where am I??”

Sylus takes a measured step closer, and you press harder against the wall, your palms flat against its cool surface. He notices your reaction but doesn’t stop. If anything, his smirk widens slightly, his amusement barely concealed.

“You’ve had a rough night,” he says, his tone almost soothing. “You should sit down before you hurt yourself again.”

You shake your head frantically, your heart hammering against your ribs. “No. I’m not sitting down. I don’t even know where I am or why you’re…” You trail off, your eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to piece together some explanation. The ornate furniture, the oppressive darkness, the sheer opulence of the space… none of it makes sense. Finally, you force the words out: “This is your place, isn’t it?”

Sylus nods, his expression unreadable. “You catch on quickly.”

“Why am I here?” you repeat, your voice rising as panic floods your senses. The weight of your fear feels suffocating, pressing down on you with every passing second.

His smirk grows sharper, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Because you belong here sweetie.”

His words hit you like a blow, the weight of them sending another wave of terror through you. Your mind races, searching desperately for a way out, for some chance to escape. But Sylus doesn’t move, his dark gaze fixed on you like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

You’re trapped, and every instinct in your body screams for you to run, even as you realize there’s nowhere to go.

Then it all comes flooding back. The grocery store. The sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to linger too long. The white hair framing a face you couldn’t have possibly forgot. Your heart sinks as you connect the dots.

“It’s you,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You were there, at the grocery store.”

Sylus tilts his head, the faintest flicker of amusement playing across his features. “You’re sharper than I thought,” he says. “Yes, we’ve met…though I’m sure you’ll agree this setting is far more…intimate.”

You feel your stomach twist in disgust, more tears beginning to pour from your face as you tremble,

“So…you were following me,” you whisper, the words trembling as they spill out. Then, louder, you scream, “I knew it! I fucking knew it… you sick fuck!”

In a desperate bid for escape, you lunge toward the bedroom door. But before you can reach it, a cold, red mist envelops your body. Your momentum is halted midair as the mist tightens around you like an unbreakable grip. A startled yelp escapes your lips as you’re lifted effortlessly and set gently back onto the bed. You twist and thrash against the invisible force, but it’s no use.

Sylus moves with unhurried precision, climbing onto the bed and pinning you down with his weight. His hands grip your wrists, pressing them firmly against the mattress and above your head. His face hovers close, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you struggle beneath him.

“No need for such vulgarities, sweetie,” he says softly, his voice calm but with an undeniable edge of control. His hand moves to your face, brushing away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

His words feel like a mockery, their gentleness only amplifying the terror gripping you. You try to twist away, your heart racing as his red eyes bore into yours, unyielding and unrelenting.

This power…you’ve never seen an Evol quite like it. The mist that held you, the way he’s able to keep you restrained without even breaking a sweat—it’s terrifying. The strength in his grip feels unmovable, like you’re struggling against solid rock. Your voice cracks as you demand, “What do you want from me?!”

You thrash harder, pouring every ounce of strength into breaking free, but it’s futile. Sylus doesn’t even flinch. If anything, he seems amused by your attempts.

“You’ve always been meant to be with me,” he says, his voice low and steady, as if explaining a universal truth. “By circumstance, we were kept apart. But none of that truly matters now.”

His grip tightens slightly, grounding you to the bed as he leans in closer. “We’re together now. Don’t fret. I’ll take care of you.”

Your mind races, a torrent of thoughts crashing together in chaotic waves. Always meant to be? The absurdity of his words claws at your sanity. How could someone you’ve never known—never even spoken to—believe something so delusional? Panic flares again as his words settle deeper, the full weight of their meaning pressing against your chest like a suffocating fog.

“You’re insane,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your voice trembling with fear and defiance. “We’re not meant to be anything! I don't even know you! Let me go!”

Sylus shakes his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I know change is hard. In time, you’ll understand.” His gaze softens, but it’s not comforting. It’s the gaze of a predator, satisfied with its catch. “This is overwhelming for you, but just trust me."

Before you can voice another protest, Sylus leans down suddenly, his lips crashing against yours in an abrupt and unwelcome kiss. The sensation is overwhelming, his grip unyielding as he presses you into the mattress. Your body stiffens instinctively, and a wave of revulsion washes over you. The intimacy feels like an invasion, every fiber of your being recoiling at the unwelcome touch.

His lips are warm, firm, tender with a possessive force that makes your skin crawl. Your mind screams in protest, a cacophony of fear, anger, and disgust that drowns out all rational thought. The coppery tang of blood fills your mouth as you bite down hard, desperate to sever the connection.

Sylus pulls back slightly, and for a moment you see it—a flicker of darkness in his expression, an almost imperceptible crack in his composure. The bloodied mark on his lip stands stark against his pale skin, but he doesn’t flinch. Instead, his eyes meet yours, sharp and cold, with a faint glimmer of something unspoken.

He raises a hand slowly, brushing his fingers over the mark as though testing its reality. Then, his gaze darkens, amusement fading into something more dangerous. The corners of his mouth curl into a faint smirk, though it no longer holds even a trace of warmth.

“You’re feisty, kitten” he murmurs, his voice low and controlled, but with an edge that sends a fresh wave of terror through you. “But I wouldn’t keep testing me. This…resistance?” He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “It won’t get you anywhere.”

Tears sting your eyes as you glare up at him, trembling with equal parts fear and fury. “Just let me go,” you spit through gritted teeth, your voice shaking but defiant. “I’ll never—”

His finger presses gently against your lips, silencing you with unnerving ease. “Hush, honey” he says, his tone soft but carrying the weight of unspoken command. “Just lay still and behave."

Confusion grips you as his words hang in the air, their meaning slowly dawning with horrifying clarity. His hand moves to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly. A wave of dread crashes over you, threatening to drown you. No…no, he’s not going to…he can’t be serious. No!

“Stop!” you scream, your voice cracking as panic surges through you. “No! No! Please, stop!” You thrash violently, every muscle in your body straining as you kick and twist in his unyielding grip. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t—”

Your pleas are met with silence, his focus unbroken, his grip like iron. His eyes focused, yet amused, as though your outburst is just a silly tantrum. He continues, undeterred, his hands steady as he unbuckles the buttons of your pants. “This is what I want,” he says, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

Your heart pounds erratically, terror clouding your thoughts. The room feels suffocating, the air too thick to breathe. Think. Think! Your mind races, desperate for something—anything—to stop him. Then, an idea strikes, reckless and impulsive, but it’s all you have.

You gather all the spit you can muster, clenching your jaw, and hurl it directly at his face. The saliva splatters across his cheek, glistening in the dim light. Time seems to freeze as you watch for his reaction, your breath caught in your throat.

His hand stills, his entire body going unnervingly still. Slowly, deliberately, he raises a hand to his face, wiping the saliva away with a measured swipe. His movements are unnervingly calm, controlled, as though he isn’t furious—but you know better. His lips curl slightly, and then he chuckles. It’s a low, rumbling sound, one that vibrates through the air like distant thunder.

The chuckle deepens, growing into a full, genuine laugh that echoes through the room. It’s unsettling—wrong. You stare at him, confused, your heart pounding as fear knots your stomach. Why is he laughing? The sound is too real, too unguarded, like he’s genuinely amused.

Finally, the laughter subsides. He straightens, towering over you with that same unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes are sharp, glinting with something you can’t place. Slowly, he leans down, his face inches from yours. You freeze, unsure whether to lash out again or flee. Before you can decide, his lips meet yours again.

The kiss is deliberate and slow, a mockery of tenderness that sends a shudder of revulsion through you. His breath is warm against your skin, his movements calculated, like he’s savoring the act. You remain stiff beneath him, your mind screaming in protest as your body betrays you, locked in place by terror.

When he finally pulls back, his smirk remains, though his eyes darken slightly. “I’ll let it go,” he murmurs, his voice smooth and calm, but with an edge that sends chills down your spine. “This time.”

He straightens, his presence still looming as he towers above you. “Food will be ready soon,” he says, almost casually, before turning away, leaving you trembling, breathless, and more terrified than before.

Sylus watched you from across the room, the faint smile on his lips betraying none of the thoughts swirling in his mind. He realized, with a hint of satisfaction, that you weren’t weak. It pleased him in a way. Breaking down someone strong was far more satisfying than toying with the feeble. He had learned that much throughout the years. But breaking you down was necessary, bit by bit, until he could mold you into something entirely his.

It wasn’t really control he wanted. No, there was something deeper, something that he buried beneath layers of cynicism and cruelty. Sylus wanted a family. The idea of a child, a creation of him and someone he loved, had lingered in the back of his mind for years. He’d resigned himself to the impossibility of it—his life, his enemies, his choices made it a fool’s dream.

But then he had seen you.

Following you, studying you, uncovering every detail of your life had planted the seed. You were everything he could want: resilient, intelligent, beautiful. The more he watched, the more his desire solidified into something almost obsessive. A child…with you. The mere image of you with a swollen belly, pregnant with his baby, panting in whining underneath him as he thrusted deep into you was enough to make him excited. The thought gnawed at him, sweet and insistent, until he couldn’t ignore it anymore. But he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Nothing worth having ever was.

The first real challenge came when you refused to eat or drink. Sylus had ordered his chefs to prepare the finest meals: delicacies from every corner of the world, plated and presented with meticulous care. Yet, you rejected it all. You sat in the corner of his room, sobbing and shivering, your defiance evident in every tremble of your body.

At first, he tried to force it. He held the food to your lips, his patience fraying as you turned away, your sobs breaking the silence. And when he did manage to get you to swallow, you vomited it back up almost immediately, your body rejecting his attempts as violently as your will.

“Alright,” he sighed, his voice cold, masking the frustration and the faint pang of something else—guilt, perhaps. “Have it your way.”

He stopped pushing, but he didn’t stop providing. Every meal, a plate was prepared and set in the room alongside his own. He would sit at his chair, eating with deliberate ease, his gaze occasionally flickering to where you huddled. He said nothing, made no effort to coax you. But he knew. He was patient. The long game was his specialty.

And slowly, it worked. Day by day, he saw the toll it took on you. Your movements grew slower, your defiance quieter. The strength that had burned in your eyes began to dim, replaced by the hollow shadows of exhaustion. It was only a matter of time. It worried him, your worsening state. He even begun to question whether you would be determined enough to actually starve to death. Not that he would ever actually let you.

That moment came when you finally crawled to him. It was agonizing to watch—your frail form dragging itself across the floor, every inch a struggle. Sylus’s chest tightened, a pang of something raw and painful blooming within him. He wanted to rush to you, to lift you up and hold you, to soothe the trembling wreck you had become. But he didn’t. Instead, he remained seated, feigning indifference, his eyes never leaving you.

When you finally reached him, your voice was a fragile whisper. “Okay…you win. Please. Food. Water.”

Inwardly, he smiled. Outwardly, he remained composed, but instead of motioning to the untouched plate, he lifted it himself and placed it on his lap. He carefully cut a small piece of the salmon and held the fork out toward you. “Go ahead, kitten,” he said softly, his voice calm but laced with a tender insistence, as if coaxing a skittish animal.

For a bit you didn’t move, just staring blankly at him. He chuckled before motioning the food towards your mouth again.

His movements were slow and deliberate, almost gentle. “You look worse for wear,” he murmured, his tone softening further as his gaze locked onto yours. “You need your strength. Let me take care of you.”

You blinked, confused, before you weakly whispered, “I…I can do it…” But your arms barely moved, your body trembling from exhaustion.

“Clearly, you can’t,” he replied smoothly, brushing a lock of your disheveled hair aside. “Now, open.”

Hesitating, you finally relented, your lips parting slowly as you allowed him to guide the fork to your mouth. The taste of the salmon was exquisite, perfectly seasoned, but it was overshadowed by the surreal intimacy of the moment. His hand lingered near your chin as you chewed, his gaze steady but strangely warm, as though he truly believed you’d shatter at any second.

“That’s it,” he murmured encouragingly. “See? It’s not so bad.”

Sylus watched you intently, cutting another piece with meticulous care before offering it to you. “Now swallow,” he said softly, his voice filled with an unnerving tenderness.

You obliged in weak silence, each bite fed to you with deliberate care. Your body, too weak to resist, obeyed out of necessity, and yet his lingering touches—his hand brushing your cheek, the way his eyes softened with each bite—left you unsettled.

Little did you know, the food had been altered.. Rohypnol, a common date rape drug, slipped into the delicate glaze on the salmon. He saw the moment it began to take effect—your movements slowed, your blinking grew heavy, and your body swayed slightly. Your chewing began to falter. You didn’t even realize what was happening as the sleepiness crept over you like a warm, suffocating blanket.

Sylus leaned forward, his gaze softening as he whispered, "Good girl, keep chewing. Don't bite your tongue"

All you could mutter was a moan, unable to think straight in your drug hazed state. You managed to swallow. All you felt was warm heat radiating off of slightly pale flesh. You blushed and planted your face in his neck.

Sylus put the fork down, amused by your affection. Getting up from the sofa in the room, he laid you down on his bed.

He began unbuckling his belt.

You were rendered completely helpless to his advances now. You didn't protest when he removed your shirt, didn't squirm when your pants and underwear came off. He felt almost breathless as the sight of your pristine cunt came into view, already beginning to glisten with your slickness. You whined as he began to circle your hardening nipples, and practically squealed when he put one his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue.

You were just divine. In every way. Your body, the sounds you made. Even despite the weight loss, you were beautiful. You looked up at him with beady and glazed over eyes as he finished removing his own pants, his hardened cock coming to your view.

"I..don...feel well.." you muttered, closing your eyes and weakly moaning to yourself as he lined up against you.

"I know sweetie, this won't take long I promise. Just lay there okay?" he said, pulling a nearby pillow over to better support your head.

He rubbed his tip against your entrance a few times but Sylus's control snapped, his need for you overwhelming any restraint. With a low growl, he pushed into you, his body claiming yours in swift act of possession. The sensation of being filled, of his hardness stretching you, caused your body to shiver, and you arched to meet him, your hands gripping the sheets as you welcomed him.

His senses flooded with pleasure as he sank deep within you, your wetness enveloping him, your body accommodating his size with a tightness that drove him wild. It was almost like you were made for him. He paused, his breath ragged, savoring the moment before he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one eliciting a sleepy moan from your lips. By the way you seemed to be tightening and untightening around him, you were clearly already close.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained. "Fuck...even better than I imagined."

His words were a plea, a surrender to the pleasure you both were experiencing. As he moved within you, his pace quickening, your bodies became a symphony of skin on skin, your moans and his grunts filling the room in a primal chorus. The morality of the situation seemed to fade into insignificance as you both succumbed to the raw, unadulterated pleasure of the moment, your bodies moving as one.

He wanted a baby in your womb.

His baby.

As Sylus's thrusts quickened, his control began to unravel even further, his body moving with an urgency that matched the escalating pleasure. Your body responded in kind, your hips rising to meet his, your legs weakly wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the cradle of your thighs. The room echoed with the sounds of your pleasure—your breathy moans, his guttural grunts, the wet, slick sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

"Mghn...ah..." you whined out, your voice hoarse, your body on the precipice of climax. It wasn't too long before you began to shake and pulse around his length, coming undone with a symphony of even loader moans and whines. It was like music to Sylus's ears, and enough to begin his own undoing. He gripped you firmly, shoving himself as deep as he would go as waves of hot semen began to shoot into your womb, only releasing you when he felt he had no more to give.

He sat up a little more, staring down at your sweat stricken body. You hadn't opened your eyes at all, now clearly dosing off into slumber. He smiled, eyes turning down to see that some of his semen was beginning to slip out of you. He was quick to catch what he could, and gently scoop it back inside.

Soon. Just a few more times of this tonight, and he would repeat the process tomorrow. And the next day. And however long it took. He wasn't a monster. He was doing this with purpose. Even if things had to be a little hard right now, it would all be worth it in the end.

You were starting to catch on. The food, the water…something wasn’t right. Each time you ate or drank, the same unsettling pattern unfolded. Your eyelids grew heavy, your thoughts muddled, and then…nothing. You’d wake up hours later with a pounding headache and a vague, gnawing ache between your legs. The lack of concrete evidence was maddening, but the suspicion burned at the edges of your mind, refusing to be silenced. You couldn't find any traces of...that. Were you just going crazy?

With time, you regained some of your strength. The helplessness that had once consumed you began to ebb, replaced by a simmering defiance. You were no longer the trembling figure huddled in the corner. You spoke less, but your gaze carried fire again. Sylus noticed, of course. He always did. It was impossible to hide anything from him for long.

One evening, he brought you dinner and a glass of water, just as he always did. The spread was exquisite—pan-seared duck, roasted vegetables, and a fine wine reduction drizzled over the plate. He set it down in front of you and waited, his piercing eyes fixed on you.

You hesitated, the now-familiar unease creeping into your chest. Then, you decided to test the waters. “Is there…bottled water?” you asked, your voice steady but your pulse racing.

Sylus’s brow arched slightly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Bottled?” he repeated, amusement lacing his tone. “Why?”

You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “The tap water tastes…off. Weird.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “The tap water here is the purest you’ll find. It shouldn’t taste weird.” His tone shifted, growing firmer. “Now eat.”

The command stung, his dismissal of your concern fueling the anger bubbling inside you. You glared at the plate, but you didn't comply. The taste of the food, once a source of faint comfort, now made your stomach queasy anyways.

Before he could start eating, Sylus’s phone buzzed. He stood, glancing at the screen before answering with a clipped, “Yes?” His voice, usually measured and calm, held a note of irritation. “And you need me to come down why? You two can handle him.” There was a pause, followed by an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Be there soon.”

Sylus hung up and turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said, his voice void of warmth as he left the room. He was clearly irritated.

The second he was gone, your heart raced. This is it. You glanced at his plate, untouched and pristine. Your suspicions flared. If he was drugging you, this was the chance to prove it. Quickly, you switched the plates, swapping yours with his. If he ate it and succumbed, you’d finally have the upper hand. Freedom dangled tantalizingly before you, so close you could almost taste it.

Moments later, Sylus returned, his dark coat trailing behind him as he resumed his seat. His gaze flicked briefly to the plate before he picked up his utensils, cutting into the meat with precision. You watched him, your nerves a live wire as he lifted the fork to his lips.

But then he stopped.

Setting the fork down slowly, Sylus tilted his head, his eyes locking onto yours. His expression remained calm, but there was a faint edge of mockery in his smirk. “I’m honestly impressed,” he said, his voice low and smooth, each word deliberate. “But I’m a bit offended you think I’d fall for such a simple trick.”

Your stomach dropped, dread flooding your veins.

He leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled as his gaze bore into you. “You know how many times someone’s attempted to drug or poison me, sweetie?” His smirk widened, the darkness in his eyes deepening. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

You break into a nervous sweat, the panic bubbling over. How could he have possibly known? But it did confirm one thing. Your voice wavers with a mix of rage and fear as you growl, “So…you have been drugging me! I knew it!”

Slamming your fist on the table, your whole body shakes with the weight of your anger. The thought of what he’s been doing to you sends your mind spiraling, but you shove it down, refusing to let yourself break in front of him.

Sylus, however, remains completely unaffected. His expression doesn’t shift as he simply switches the plates back and cuts another bite of his food.

“Eat, kitten,” he says, his tone firm, commanding. “I won’t ask again.”

That nickname—it ignites a fire of fury in your chest. You’ve tolerated so much, but this, this is too much. The rage surges, hot and unrelenting.

“Don’t…call me that!” you scream, the words tearing from your throat as you shove the plate off the table with a sharp motion. The food tumbles to the floor, the glass of water follows, shattering into countless jagged pieces that scatter across the room.

The sound echoes, loud and jarring, slicing through the tension like a blade. You freeze, staring at the mess you’ve created, your breath caught in your throat as the reality of your actions sinks in. The anger begins to fade, replaced by a creeping wave of fear as Sylus’s eyes narrow, his expression unreadable. The room grows oppressively silent, the sound of your rapid breathing the only thing filling the void.

“Maybe I’ve been too nice to you,” Sylus says plainly, his voice calm but bleeding with anger. The subtle shift in his tone sends a chill down your spine. You freeze, the realization hitting you like a freight train—there was no getting away with an outburst today.

“Wait…I’m sorry,” you say shakily, your voice trembling as you crouch down, reaching for the shattered glass. “I’ll clean it up. I’m so, so—”

Before you can finish, his hand snaps out, grabbing your arm in a vice-like grip and yanking you roughly back to your feet. A sharp cry escapes your lips as pain shoots through your arm. You struggle, his grip unwavering, and then you notice it—the birth control implant bulging against your skin where his fingers dig in.

“Don’t bother,” he growls, his tone as cold as his touch.

“Ow! My birth control!” you scream, tears springing to your eyes as you try to pry his hand away. His movements falter for the briefest moment, his grip loosening slightly as confusion flickers across his face. He lets go, his crimson eyes narrowing as they focus on your arm. Carefully, he turns it over, his fingers probing the area until the faint, hard line of the implant becomes apparent beneath your skin.

A dark realization dawns on him, and his expression hardens. “You didn’t tell me about this,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. His voice carries a hint of accusation. “No wonder it wasn’t working.”

“What? What wasn’t working?” you exclaim, your voice rising as panic grips you. You try to yank your arm away, but his hold tightens again, his gaze never leaving the implant. The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach twist into knots.

“This needs to come out,” he states flatly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“No! No, no, no,” you stammer, your voice breaking as you shiver violently. “It’s fine! It’s probably expiring soon anyway, I think! Please, just leave it!”

The weight of his words sinks in, barely giving you time to process what he means. He wants you to carry his child. The thought sends your mind reeling, a sickening blend of fear and disbelief twisting through you. Your breaths come quicker, your chest tight as the reality of your situation settles heavily over you.

Sylus doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks up, meeting your panicked gaze. His eyes soften slightly, though not with kindness—it’s more like exasperation, as though this little implant was a major obstacle. He sighs, his grip easing but not releasing.

“You’re making this very difficult for me,” he says, his voice low and measured. The subtle edge of irritation only makes his words more chilling. You can’t tell what’s running through his mind, but the uncertainty is enough to make your knees tremble.

“All you have to do is sit around looking pretty, have my children, and you’d have everything you could ever wish for,” he says, his voice calm and almost conversational. “Is that truly so hard?” He doesn’t even look at you directly, his gaze distant, as if the answer were obvious.

You can't even speak. Have his what? You don't even know this man. You don't even want to be here. He sounds absolutely insane.

He calmly glances down at the floor, his eyes settling on the largest shard of glass among the shattered remains. Your heart drops as dread floods your senses. When his hand reaches out for the shard, you thrash violently, using every ounce of strength you can muster to pull away from his grip.

“Sylus! Please!” you cry, your voice breaking. “I can get it removed! Don’t-!”

But your protests are cut short as he produces a cloth from his pocket and presses it firmly over your mouth. The fabric muffles your screams, your muffled cries reverberating against the walls as he backs you against the bed. Your knees buckle, and you collapse backward onto the plush mattress. Before you can scramble to your feet, he is on top of you, his weight pressing you down. His Evol snakes out, an ominous red mist that coils around you, pinning your arms and keeping your struggling body firmly in place.

Panic consumes you as he leans in, his shadow looming over your trembling form. He holds the shard of glass delicately, almost reverently, examining its sharp tip as though weighing its utility.

His gaze flickers to your terrified expression for a moment, and then he does something that makes your stomach turn. He presses a quick, chillingly gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Be still, sweetie,” he says, his voice deceptively soft. “I’m doing this for us.”

Before you can even react, he lowers the shard of glass to your arm, pressing its tip lightly but firmly against your skin, right over the implant. The pressure sends a bolt of pain through you, tears streaming down your face as the room spins around you.

You scream.

He cuts.

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