Ember In The Dark Pt.3
Ember in the Dark pt.3
Young!Silco x Fem!Reader
pt.2 - pt.4
pt.1
Warnings: Survival Struggle, Dark Themes, Alcohol use, Smoking, Themes of oppression and struggle, and Trauma.
Word Count: 2893
Summary: After a failed heist exposes (Y/N)’s magic, she, Vander, Silco, and Felicia lay low by working in the mines. Over the years, they establish themselves in the Undercity, with Vander saving to buy the bar that becomes the "Last Drop." As their influence grows, Silco shares his vision of an independent Zaun, planting the seed of revolution. While Vander is hesitant, (Y/N) listens- intrigued but cautious. Lost in her past, she drowns her thoughts in smoke and whiskey, avoiding what haunts her. Yet, the idea of change lingers, and the path ahead is uncertain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The weight of (Y/N)’s secret still hung thick in the air, pressing against them like the smog outside their hideout. Now that everyone knew, there was no going back.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at her hands- at the faint traces of magic that still tingled beneath her skin. The others were quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
Silco was the first to break the silence. "We need a plan."
Felicia snorted. "You think?" She gestured vaguely in (Y/N)’s direction. "This isn’t just some petty theft or smuggling job, Silco. She’s a mage. The second the wrong people find out, they’ll be all over us."
Vander leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His face was grim. "Felicia’s right. The Enforcers will come looking for whoever set off that magic during the heist. We don’t know if anyone saw your face, but if they did…" His jaw tightened. "It won’t just be you they come for, (Y/N). It’ll be all of us."
(Y/N)’s stomach twisted.
She knew. She knew.
She had spent her whole life hiding, knowing that even in the Undercity, where the laws were loose and survival meant everything, people still feared magic. Mages were either used, sold out, or killed.
Silco was watching her again, that calculating look back in his eyes. "Do you know how to control it?"
(Y/N) hesitated.
"Kind of," she admitted. "I’ve had to teach myself, but it’s-" She swallowed. "It’s not perfect. And when I panic, it’s harder to stop."
Felicia let out a long breath. "So if something goes wrong, you might accidentally blow up a building?"
(Y/N) shot her a glare. "I don’t blow things up."
"Could’ve fooled me."
"Felicia," Vander warned, before turning back to (Y/N). "We’ll figure it out," he said, like it was that simple. Like they could just sit down and solve this like any other problem.
(Y/N) wished she could believe that.
Silco leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You need practice," he said bluntly. "You need to learn how to control it before it controls you."
(Y/N) frowned. "And how exactly do you suggest I do that? I can’t exactly go around throwing magic in the streets."
"Underground," Silco said without hesitation. "There are places in the Lanes where no one asks questions. The lower sectors, the abandoned tunnels- hell, even the Fissures. People go missing down there all the time. No one would notice a few sparks."
Vander didn’t look convinced. "And if someone does see?"
Silco tilted his head, smirking slightly. "Then we make sure they don’t talk."
Felicia groaned. "Great. Now we’re considering murder. Love that."
"We’re not killing anyone," Vander said firmly. "But Silco’s right about one thing- (Y/N) does need to learn how to control it. If the Enforcers come knocking, she needs to be able to hide it. Or fight back."
(Y/N)’s hands curled into fists. "I don’t want to fight."
Vander’s face softened. "I know."
Felicia sighed, rubbing her temples. "Alright. Say we do train her. Say she figures out how to keep her magic in check. What’s the endgame here? We just keep hiding forever?"
The room fell silent again.
Because none of them had an answer.
Eventually, someone would find out. The Undercity thrived on secrets, but it also thrived on selling them. And (Y/N)’s magic was worth more than just coin.
Silco’s gaze flickered toward her. "We don’t have to figure out everything tonight. But the sooner you learn to control it, the safer we all are."
(Y/N) took a slow, shaky breath. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want this.
But what choice did she have?
"Okay," she murmured. "I’ll do it."
Felicia sighed dramatically, throwing up her hands. "Fine. But if you do accidentally blow something up, I’m telling everyone it was Silco’s idea."
Silco smirked. "You say that like it would be the first time."
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but something in her chest loosened… They weren’t running yet, but they would be ready when the time came.
The decision settled over them like dust, thick and inescapable. If they wanted to keep (Y/N) safe, they needed to stay put. No more bouncing from hideout to hideout, no more risky jobs that put them in Enforcer sights.
For a while now, they had talked about joining the Miners. It wasn’t glamorous work- nothing in the Undercity was- but it was steady, and more importantly, it was a place to disappear.
Felicia was the first to voice it aloud. "We should actually head for the mines, I guess..."
Vander nodded, rubbing his chin. "Yeah. The mines are deep enough that no one asks questions. No Enforcers, no Pilties. Just workers doing what they have to do to survive."
Silco looked less convinced. "It’s miserable work," he pointed out. "Back-breaking, dangerous, and not exactly known for long life expectancy."
"It’s better than getting caught," (Y/N) muttered.
That shut him up.
Felicia huffed, leaning back against the wall. "Besides, people go missing in the mines all the time. If (Y/N) needs a place to train, no one’s going to notice a little flicker of magic in some abandoned tunnel. They’ll just assume it’s fumes or gas leaks."
(Y/N)’s stomach twisted. She didn’t like the idea of being buried underground, of working herself to exhaustion in the mines just to stay invisible. But she liked the alternative even less.
Vander stretched, cracking his neck. "We’ll need to find someone to vouch for us. Miners don’t just take in new hands without a good word."
Silco smirked. "I might know someone."
Felicia raised a brow. "Of course you do."
"I make it a point to know useful people."
(Y/N) exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Okay. If this is what we have to do, then let’s do it."
The decision was made.
Tomorrow, they would start making arrangements. They would lay low, keep (Y/N) hidden, and work in the mines until they figured out their next move.
For now, it was enough to have a plan, it was enough to be together…
The years in the mines had hardened them all, but they had done what they set out to do. (Y/N) could control her magic now, keeping it hidden when needed, calling on it when necessary. She had learned to harness it, to let it flow without losing herself to it.
And more importantly, she had survived.
The four of them still lived together, still watched each other’s backs, but things were changing. They weren’t just desperate kids scrambling to make it through another day. They had goals now, real ones.
Vander had been saving for a while, working longer shifts, cutting corners on meals, taking riskier but better-paying jobs when he could. And now, he had almost enough to buy the old abandoned bar near the Markets.
Felicia had rolled her eyes when he first mentioned it. "You want to be a bartender now?"
Vander had just grinned. "I want to own something. To have a place of our own. A real home."
The idea had stuck.
It would take time, but if they pulled it off, it could be the start of something bigger. A place where they didn’t have to run. A place they could build something for themselves.
Silco had been skeptical at first, but even he had to admit- having a secure location came with its advantages. And Felicia? Well, she liked the idea of a bar because it meant easy access to drinks and a place to keep an eye on the people who owed them favors.
(Y/N)? She just liked the idea of having a home that wasn’t temporary.
They weren’t there yet. But soon, they would be.
And for the first time in a long time, the future felt like something worth looking forward to.
The mines had given them more than just a way to hide- they had given them purpose. Vander and Silco had worked their way up the ranks, gaining respect and authority, while (Y/N) and Felicia put in long hours, their earnings adding to Vander’s growing stash.
The bar was so close to being theirs.
And now, they just had to name it.
"‘The Last Drop,’" Vander mused, leaning back in his chair. "I like it."
Felicia snorted. "Of course, you do. It sounds dramatic enough for you."
(Y/N) smirked. "It is a good name, though. Feels… fitting."
Silco nodded, swirling the cheap liquor in his glass. "A place for the desperate. The ones at the end of their rope. The last refuge before you fall."
Vander grinned. "See? Dramatic. But I like that."
Felicia raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. ‘The Last Drop’ it is."
It felt right… It wasn’t just a name. It was theirs.
It didn't take long to actually achieve it.
After years of scraping by, of moving from place to place, of struggling just to survive, they finally had something permanent…
Vander had stood in the middle of the empty space, hands on his hips, taking it all in with a quiet sense of pride. "Needs work," he had admitted. "But we’ll fix it up."
And they did.
It wasn’t grand, not yet, but it had walls, a roof that mostly kept the rain out, and a counter where drinks could be poured. It had a future.
As Vander and Silco’s reputation grew, so did their network of trusted allies. They weren’t in power- not yet- but they had people who listened when they spoke. People who respected them. And in the Undercity, that was worth more than coin.
One of those people was Benzo, a shop owner they had recently met. His pawn shop sat close to the bar, a place filled with oddities, old weapons, and trinkets that told stories of lives long past. He was sharp, experienced, and- most importantly- he knew things. The kind of man who had eyes and ears in the right places.
And then there was Connol.
Felicia had met him recently, and though she hadn’t shared much about him yet, there was something different in the way she talked about him. A flicker of something new.
The world was shifting around them, and they were finally in a position to shape it instead of just surviving it.
For the first time in years, the future wasn’t just something to fear. It was something to build.
The bar had settled into a comfortable quiet, the kind that only came when the night had dragged on and most of the patrons had stumbled home.
(Y/N) exhaled a slow breath, the ember of her cigarette glowing softly in the dim light. Next to her, Silco leaned over his book, writing with careful strokes, his whiskey glass half-full beside him. Vander stood behind the bar, absentmindedly wiping down the counter, still getting used to the rhythm of tending to the place.
Felicia wasn’t here- she had been disappearing more and more, off doing whatever it was she did with Connol. None of them had asked. Not yet.
Silco turned a page, but his mind wasn’t on the words. It hadn’t been for a while.
He had been thinking- turning an idea over in his mind, letting it take root, letting it grow. The Undercity… It wasn’t just a slum, wasn’t just a place where people survived at the mercy of Piltover’s scraps. It could be more. It should be more.
And maybe- just maybe- they could be the ones to make it happen.
He tapped his pen against the book, then glanced at (Y/N), who was watching him through the smoke curling between them.
"You’ve got that look again," she murmured.
Silco smirked. "What look?"
"The one that means you’re thinking too much."
Vander chuckled from behind the bar. "That is a dangerous thing."
Silco leaned back in his seat, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Have you ever thought about what the Undercity could be?"
Vander raised a brow. "It is what it is, Silco."
Silco shook his head. "No, it’s what they let it be. Piltover controls everything- our work, our trade, our lives. We live in their shadow, scraping by, pretending that’s all we’ll ever have."
(Y/N) stubbed out her cigarette, watching him closely. "And you think we can change that?"
Silco’s grip tightened around his glass. "I know we can."
Vander sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Silco…"
"No, listen," Silco pressed, leaning forward. "We have a foothold now. We have people who trust us, who listen to us. The bar isn’t just a business- it’s a gathering place. A starting point." His eyes gleamed with conviction. "We could be more than this. It could stand on its own. No more crawling to Piltover for scraps. No more living under their rule."
Silco let the words settle between them.
(Y/N) glanced at Vander, who was frowning, thoughtful but hesitant.
"You want to make a war out of this?" Vander finally asked, voice low.
Silco exhaled slowly. "I want to make a home. A real one. One where we don’t have to answer to anyone but ourselves... We can make Zaun..."
(Y/N) was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, she reached for another cigarette. "You really think we could pull it off?"
Silco met her gaze, unwavering. "I think if we don’t, no one else ever will."
Vander sighed again, shaking his head- but he didn’t argue.
Because deep down, maybe part of him agreed.
Silco let the idea simmer, allowing Vander and (Y/N) to sit with it, to think about it. He knew better than to push too fast- Vander was cautious, (Y/N) measured. But the seed was planted.
He had spent years thinking about it, turning the idea over in his mind like a gambler weighing his last coin. The Undercity didn’t have to be a gutter for Piltover’s discarded souls. It could be Zaun- not just a slum, not just the shadows beneath the gleaming city above, but a true city. A force of its own.
The mines, the industry, the people- they were the backbone of Piltover’s prosperity. Without them, the Pilties would crumble under the weight of their own arrogance. And yet, the Undercity was treated as a wasteland, a place to be managed rather than respected.
Silco envisioned something greater. A Zaun that stood apart, that no longer bowed to Piltover’s rules. A Zaun where they decided their own future, not one dictated by Piltover’s Enforcers and Council laws.
The bar was quiet now, save for the occasional clink of glass and the low hum of the Undercity’s ever-present machinery beyond its doors. The night stretched on, thick with unspoken thoughts and the weight of Silco’s vision lingering between them.
(Y/N) nursed her drink, her fingers loosely wrapped around the glass as the warmth of it settled in her chest. She was buzzed- definitely buzzed. A lightweight, as always. But that was just how things were down here. You started young, numbing the cold grip of the Undercity however you could.
Vander had stopped trying to stop her a long time ago.
"You’re thinking about it," Silco mused beside her, his voice low and knowing.
(Y/N) smirked lazily, swirling the remnants of her drink. "’Course I am. It’s a lot to think about."
He nodded, taking another sip of his whiskey. "You don’t have to decide anything now."
She snorted. "I know. You’re letting it sit with us, right?"
Silco chuckled, amused. She was sharp, even with alcohol softening the edges of her thoughts. He liked that about her.
She leaned back, exhaling. "Zaun," she murmured, rolling the word on her tongue. "Feels... different. Feels like something real."
Silco glanced at her, studying the way she stared at her drink, thoughtful even through the haze of liquor.
"It will be real," he said, certainty laced in his tone. "Someday."
(Y/N) didn’t argue. Didn’t scoff. She just nodded, because maybe, just maybe, she could see it too.
After some time, Vander started to moved through the bar with practiced ease, cutting people off, sending the last stragglers stumbling toward the door. The place was shutting down for the night. Not that it mattered much to (Y/N) or Silco. They lived here.
Silco sat comfortably, still sipping at his whiskey, but (Y/N)… She had gone quiet.
Her second drink sat half-finished in front of her, her gaze fixed on the worn wood of the bar. The alcohol had softened her edges, but instead of making her talkative, it had drawn her inward.
She was thinking.
Silco knew that look.
(Y/N) didn’t talk much about her past- not beyond the bare bones of it. They all knew about her magic, but her mother? Her life before coming to the Undercity? That was a locked door she never let them open.
Instead, she lit another cigarette, the flicker of flame briefly illuminating her face before she inhaled, filling her lungs with smoke and whiskey, pushing everything else down.
Silco watched her for a moment before breaking the silence.
"Heavy thoughts?"
(Y/N) exhaled, the smoke curling toward the ceiling. "Always."
He hummed, tilting his glass. "Anything worth sharing?"
She smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Not tonight."
That was how it always was, so Silco didn’t push.
He just poured himself another drink and stayed beside her, letting the ghosts settle in around them.
More Posts from Deliciousspecimen and Others
Had to remake this post, because someone reported it for a symbol on one of the images, (that I didn't see and forgot to sensor, so fair. I respect that.) but I'm posting it again, because I feel like I absolutely need to.
To whoever this person is, I genuinely hope you get help, you freak.
I'm more than likely going to stop writing for this character, because jeez, I do not want to deal with that shit again.
TW: threats under the cut.
I knew the Danganronpa community was ick, but I guess I underestimated how foul some of the people in the community could be. At first I was like "haha, this is cringe, funny." But then the stuff he sent kept getting worse, and worse. THEN he threatened to r@pe me, like it was some fun little thing he could just throw around. As a S/A survivor myself, I think you are absolutely horrendous. You need help.
Welcome!
I'm Gi, thank you for visiting my profile :}
Okay, so, I'm going to be so honest... I'm not exactly experienced when it comes to Tumblr. I mostly use it to look at art, and read fanfiction. Nonetheless, I want to try! I'm planning on posting my art, along with any fics I decide I want to write. I normally posty art on Insta, and my fics on Wattpad, but I thought it was time for a change, so I migrated here. I don't know what I'm doing exactly, but I would love suggestions on how to make things better, my writing, art, profile, everything! Feel free to give me any tips you want, I'll appreciate anything given to me :}
I'm going to start off with posting some art, just so this isn't my only post. If you like my work, don't hesitate to send me requests or suggestions!
Ember in the Dark pt.5
Young!Silco x Fem!Reader
pt.4 - pt.6
pt.1
Warnings: Violence, Combat, Injury, Mild gore, Abduction, Restraint, Death, Hallucinations/Visions, Blood, and Panic/Fear.
Word Count: 6174
Summary: (Y/N) is ambushed by three hooded figures trying to abduct her. She fights back but is restrained until her scream alerts Vander, Silco, and Felicia. A brutal fight ensues, leaving her stabbed before her attackers are defeated or driven off. Silco rushes her home, where Felicia stitches her wound while Vander and Silco struggle to contain her unstable magic. Before losing consciousness, she sees a vision of her mother. Realizing the attack was a targeted abduction, Vander and Silco investigate and learn that the Mageseekers, possibly backed by someone powerful, won’t stop hunting her. Meanwhile, Felicia watches over (Y/N). When she wakes, Silco warns her not to go out alone. Though frustrated, she accepts his help, and in an uncharacteristic moment of tenderness, he washes and combs her hair, revealing his fear. She reassures him, but both know the danger isn’t over. Left alone, (Y/N) struggles to rest, haunted by how close she came to being taken.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The grip on her arm was like iron.
One moment, she was walking behind the others, her steps careful, keeping an eye on the shadows. The next, a rough yank wrenched her off balance, dragging her into the darkness of a narrow alleyway.
She barely had time to react before she was shoved against the damp stone wall, a gloved hand clamping over her mouth. Instinct flared- she thrashed, trying to throw her weight forward, but another force seized her other arm, pinning her in place.
"Quiet." The voice was cold, controlled. A tone that expected obedience.
Three of them. Just like before.
Her heart pounded as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Their clothes were dark, heavy- made for blending in. Beneath their hoods, she caught glimpses of stern faces, sharp eyes that held purpose.
They weren’t just some random thugs looking to mug her.
This was something else.
The man holding her still leaned in slightly, eyes flickering over her face, searching for something. Confirming something.
“She’s the one,” he murmured.
Her blood ran cold.
The second man- broader, his grip bruising her arm- spoke next, voice laced with disdain. “Took us long enough to track her down. She’s been hiding.”
She didn’t understand. Who were these people?
The third figure, standing just behind the others, exhaled sharply. “She doesn’t even know why we’re here...”
She stiffened.
Before she could process that, the first man leaned in closer, his voice quiet but sharp as a blade.
“You’re coming with us.”
No.
She didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, but she knew she couldn’t let them take her.
She jerked against their grip, shoving her weight forward, twisting, trying to rip herself free. The man restraining her hissed in frustration, tightening his hold.
Then, she felt it.
A tingling beneath her skin. A crackling in her bones. A spark, desperate and wild, clawing to the surface.
Her breath came fast, her pulse hammering against her ribs as she fought against the instinct screaming at her to let go. She could- she knew she could- but she wouldn’t. Not here. Not now.
Instead, she did the one thing she avoided at all costs.
She screamed.
A raw, desperate sound tore from her throat, sharp and jagged, cutting through the damp, crowded streets of the Undercity.
The men cursed, reacting instantly. The one holding her mouth recoiled, caught off guard just long enough for her to thrash against his grip. The broader man snarled and clamped down harder on her arm, yanking her back before she could bolt.
“Shut her up,” he snapped.
A gloved hand struck her cheek. The sting was sharp, burning- but she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t stop.
“VANDER! SILCO!!” she screamed again, using every bit of breath in her lungs, hoping- praying- that they heard her before these bastards dragged her away.
Shouting erupted from the streets.
The men tensed.
Her heart soared.
The voices were distant but getting closer- familiar voices.
“(Y/N)?”
Vander.
Then another, sharp and cutting- “Where is she?!”
The hooded figures exchanged looks, calculating.
They had seconds before her people arrived.
The grip on her loosened just slightly- just enough.
And she took her chance.
With everything she had, she drove her knee into the nearest man’s gut, using the momentum to rip her arm free. The other lunged to grab her, but she twisted away, slipping through his fingers just as-
Vander and Silco came crashing into the alley.
Felicia rushed in after, keeping her distance but ready.
Vander was a force of nature, barreling straight for the nearest hooded figure. His sheer presence alone sent the man stumbling back.
Silco was precise, fast, cold- lunging straight for the one who had hit her, a blade flashing in his hand.
Panting, she stumbled back. Felicia was suddenly at her side, gripping her arms, steadying her.
She wasn’t alone... The alley exploded into chaos.
Vander fought like a battering ram, his fists landing like sledgehammers against the people who had been attacking (Y/N). He slammed one against the brick wall, sending the man crumpling to the ground with a sickening crack.
Silco was faster, sharper- his knife found its mark in the shoulder of the second man, twisting with ruthless precision. The man cried out, staggering back, clutching the wound as blood seeped through his cloak.
(Y/N) gasped for breath, pressing a hand to the fresh bruise on her cheek, her heart hammering. She could barely focus as Felicia yanked her further back, shielding her from the fight.
The group was trying to retreat.
They hadn’t expected this.
But just as the last one turned to flee, he moved too fast- too close to her.
It happened in an instant.
A flash of steel.
A searing pain tore through her side.
She sucked in a sharp breath, the world tilting as she looked down.
The blade was small but deep, buried just beneath her ribs. The figure yanked it back, and warmth spread across her torso- blood soaking through the fabric of her cloak.
Felicia screamed.
Silco turned instantly, eyes wide as he saw her sway.
Then, his expression shifted.
Pure, unrelenting rage twisted his features. His hand tightened around his knife.
He didn’t just stab this time- he drove the blade into the man’s gut and twisted it, his face inches from the man’s as he watched the light leave his eyes.
The hooded man gurgled.
Collapsed.
But she barely saw it.
Her knees buckled.
Pain flooded her senses, her breath ragged and shallow. Arms caught her before she hit the ground- Silco, his grip firm but shaking.
“(Y/N)- (Y/N), stay awake.”
Vander was suddenly there, pale-faced, pressing his hands against the wound.
Too much blood.
Felicia hovered, panic tightening her expression. “We need to move. Now.”
The fight was over. The group was either dead or gone.
But (Y/N) was slipping fast.
Silco clenched his jaw, his voice steady but tight. “We’re taking her home.”
Then, without another word, they ran.
Silco didn’t stop.
He couldn’t.
(Y/N)’s blood was everywhere- soaking into his shirt, warm and sticky against his skin as he tightened his grip. She was too still, her head lolling slightly against his shoulder, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
Her eyes- he caught a glimpse of them through her half-lidded stare.
Glowing.
A faint, golden shimmer.
Not now.
Not here.
“Stay with me, (Y/N),” he muttered, barely hearing his own voice over the pounding of his heartbeat. “We’re almost there.”
Vander was at his side, keeping pace despite the panic in his expression. Felicia ran ahead, shoving people out of the way, clearing a path.
The bar was too far.
Too damn far.
Silco’s arms ached, but he didn’t dare let her go.
She stirred slightly, fingers twitching against his chest, lips parting as if to speak. But when she did, it wasn’t words- just a sharp, pained exhale as another jolt of golden light flickered through her hands.
Shit.
They burst through the back entrance of the bar, nearly knocking the door off its hinges.
Benzo took one look at (Y/N), at the blood, at them, and rushed forward.
“Get her upstairs. Now.”
Silco didn’t need to be told twice.
He took the stairs two at a time, Vander right behind him, Felicia on his heels. They reached her room, Silco lowering her onto the bed with a care that felt unnatural for him.
The moment he let go, her body tensed. Her fingers clenched in the sheets as a golden glow crackled up her arms.
She was losing control.
Vander swore. “(Y/N)-”
Silco grabbed her wrist, his grip firm, grounding.
“Breathe,” he ordered, voice sharp, forcing her to look at him.
Her eyes fluttered open- still glowing, but unfocused.
“It... hurts,” she rasped.
“I know.” Silco’s voice softened, but his free hand pressed against her wound, trying to slow the bleeding. “But you need to stay here. You hear me?”
Benzo shoved past Vander, dropping a bowl of water, cloth, and a needle with thread onto the bedside table. “She’s burning up. Someone’s gotta patch her up before she bleeds out.”
Felicia moved first, rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll do it.”
Silco didn’t let go of (Y/N)’s wrist. Vander hovered anxiously at the foot of the bed.
(Y/N)’s breathing was shallow, her hands trembling as golden light flickered along her skin, fading in and out. She was still here, still fighting.
And Silco wasn’t leaving her side.
Felicia’s hands were steady, but her heart pounded in her chest.
(Y/N)’s body was slick with sweat, her magic crackling at her fingertips, sparking against the sheets. It was wild- unstable. Every time she tensed in pain, the light flared, lashing out like a live wire.
“She’s gonna fry me,” Felicia muttered under her breath, threading the needle with shaking fingers.
“Then be quick,” Vander said, his grip tightening on (Y/N)’s shoulders. He and Silco pressed her down to keep her from thrashing.
Silco was still gripping her wrist, his knuckles white. “(Y/N),” he murmured, voice sharp. “You have to stop moving.”
She let out a choked sound- not quite a scream, but damn close. Her body jerked, golden light surging up her arms, singeing the sheets. Small embers hissed against the damp cloth Benzo had thrown over her stomach to catch the blood.
Felicia clenched her jaw. No more hesitating.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and then she pressed the needle into torn skin.
(Y/N) screamed.
Her back arched violently, her arms seizing as another burst of magic crackled out of her. Silco barely flinched as sparks danced up his forearm, burning through his sleeve. Vander gritted his teeth, holding her down as Felicia worked as fast as she could, threading the needle through her flesh, sealing the wound shut.
More sparks. More magic.
(Y/N) convulsed, nails digging into Silco’s arm, breath ragged, uneven.
Felicia’s fingers trembled. The needle was slick with blood. (Y/N)’s blood.
She worked faster.
Silco murmured to her again, voice low, grounding.
(Y/N)’s thrashing slowed.
The light in her hands flickered.
Felicia forced the last stitch through, tying it off with a sharp tug.
“It’s done,” she gasped, pressing a cloth over the wound to stem the bleeding. “She just- she just needs to rest now.”
Silco loosened his grip but didn’t move away. Vander let out a breath, rubbing a hand down his face.
Felicia wiped the sweat from her forehead with a shaky hand.
(Y/N) was barely conscious, her body limp, her breathing shallow. The glow at her fingertips had faded to a dull flicker, no longer sparking against the sheets.
They had stopped the bleeding.
But she had come too close.
Too close to dying.
Too close to losing control.
Felicia swallowed hard. “We can’t let this happen again.”
Vander exhaled. “No. We can’t.”
Silco said nothing. He just stayed where he was, still holding (Y/N)’s wrist, even long after her fingers had gone still.
The world blurred at the edges. The pain in her torso dulled, lost beneath exhaustion and the magic still humming under her skin. Voices murmured in the haze- Silco, firm and steady, grounding her. Vander, heavy with something unspoken. Felicia, exhaling sharply, muttering under her breath. Benzo, chiming in now and then but mostly quiet.
But beyond them, just past the flickering light of the room, stood someone else.
A figure- blurry, shifting, barely tangible.
(Y/N) blinked, her vision hazy, her mind tangled between reality and something else entirely.
The shape before her crackled softly, golden light sparking along its edges.
The same color that bled from her hands when she lost control.
The same magic.
The same blood.
“…Mama?”
The whisper barely left her lips, slipping away into the space between breath and silence.
The figure didn’t speak.
But it watched her.
(Y/N)’s chest tightened. Her fingers twitched, aching to reach forward, to touch what wasn’t really there.
She knew it wasn’t real. Knew it was just her mind playing tricks on her.
Or maybe… something else.
Still.
The golden light crackled again, curling like smoke. And for the briefest moment, she swore she could see her mother’s face- soft, sad, watching her with eyes that held too much.
The same way she had the last time (Y/N) ever saw her awake.
A lump rose in her throat.
“Don’t go,” she murmured.
But her voice barely held weight.
The light flickered- once, twice- before dimming entirely.
The figure was gone.
And (Y/N) finally let herself fall into the dark.
The room was heavy with silence after (Y/N)’s whisper faded. Her outstretched hand fell limply to the mattress, her body finally succumbing to unconsciousness. The faint golden glow at her fingertips flickered out like a dying ember.
Felicia exhaled, shaking out her hands, still stained with (Y/N)’s blood. The stitching was rough, rushed- but it would hold. It had to.
Vander sat heavily on a crate, rubbing his face with both hands, exhaustion clear in the slope of his shoulders.
Silco hadn’t moved. His fingers still rested against (Y/N)’s wrist, checking for a steady pulse. His grip was tight- too tight for someone usually so composed.
Felicia was the first to speak.
“That wasn’t some random street scuffle.” Her voice was quiet, but certain. “That was planned.”
Silco’s jaw tightened. “I know.”
Vander straightened, resting his elbows on his knees. “Did you get a good look at ‘em?”
Silco nodded, eyes dark. “Hooded figures. Armed, coordinated. Not from around here.” His fingers twitched- like he wanted a cigarette- but he didn’t reach for one. “They weren’t just after a payday.”
Felicia swallowed, glancing at (Y/N)’s still form. “They were after her.”
A beat of silence.
Vander let out a long breath. “Then we need to find out who the hell they were.”
Felicia ran a hand through her hair. “If they knew what she is- what she can do this isn’t over.”
Silco’s voice was flat. “She screamed. Drew attention.”
“Good,” Vander said firmly. “Or she’d be dead.”
Felicia shuddered. “And if they’re still watching?”
Silco’s fingers curled into a fist. “Then we make them regret it.”
Vander nodded. “We start asking around. Someone’s bound to know something.” He met Silco’s eyes. “I’ll check the Lanes. See if anyone’s heard about strangers poking around.”
Silco exhaled sharply. “Benzo, you’ll hear more than most at your shop.”
Felicia crossed her arms. “And what about her?” She jerked her chin toward (Y/N). “We can’t leave her alone.”
Silco’s answer was instant. “Then we don’t.”
Vander nodded. “We take shifts.”
Silco looked down at (Y/N), his expression unreadable. “She needs rest.”
Felicia sighed. “We all do.”
But they wouldn’t.
Not tonight.
Tonight, they had work to do.
Benzo left first, pulling his coat tighter around himself before disappearing into the streets. He knew better than to ask too many questions- he’d hear what needed to be heard soon enough.
Felicia sat on the edge of (Y/N)’s bed, arms crossed, watching the slow rise and fall of her friend’s chest. The worst was over, but she still looked pale, her breathing uneven. Felicia reached down, adjusting the blanket over her, though she knew it wouldn’t help much.
“She’ll be fine,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Silco and Vander stood near the door, preparing to leave. Vander exhaled through his nose, glancing once more at (Y/N). “If anything changes-”
“I’ll come get you,” Felicia finished, giving him a tired look. “I know.”
Silco rolled his shoulders, eyes sharp with something cold. “If she wakes up, don’t let her move. She’ll be stubborn about it.”
Felicia huffed a short, humorless laugh. “No shit.”
Vander placed a hand on Silco’s shoulder, nodding toward the door. “C’mon. The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be to track these bastards down.”
Silco gave (Y/N) one last look before turning sharply and stepping out into the streets. Vander followed, closing the door behind them with a quiet click.
Felicia sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Well, (Y/N),” she muttered, glancing at her unconscious friend. “Looks like you stirred up a real mess this time.” She just hoped they’d be able to clean it up before it got worse.
The Undercity was never quiet, even at night. Vander and Silco moved through the twisting alleyways, boots scuffing against damp stone, the scent of soot and metal thick in the air. They didn’t speak at first- there was no need. Their minds were set on the same goal; finding out who the hell had come after (Y/N).
Vander clenched his fists. “They knew what they were looking for,” he muttered. “Didn’t go after me, didn’t go after you or Felicia. Just her.”
Silco’s jaw tensed. “They knew about her magic.”
Vander shot him a glance. “She’s been careful, Silco. No way word got out just like that.”
Silco exhaled sharply through his nose, sharp eyes scanning the streets ahead. “Doesn’t matter how careful she was. Someone saw something. Someone talked.”
The thought made Vander’s stomach twist. They had spent years making sure (Y/N) kept her secret hidden, had uprooted their lives, moved from place to place, taken jobs in the mines to keep her safe- and still, it wasn’t enough.
They stopped outside a makeshift gambling den wedged between rusted pipes and flickering neon signs. It was one of the places that thrived on knowing things- people paid debts with information as often as they did with coin.
Inside, the air was thick with smoke and tension. Eyes flicked toward them as they stepped inside, taking in their presence but quickly looking away. Vander had a reputation- so did Silco.
They made their way to a table near the back, where a wiry man with thin, calculating eyes was nursing a cheap drink. His name was Lark, and he had a talent for sniffing out whispers in the Undercity.
“Gentlemen,” Lark greeted, his voice smooth, practiced. “Didn’t expect to see you two tonight. What brings you here?”
Silco slid into the seat across from him, Vander standing close behind, arms crossed. “We’re looking for information,” Silco said coolly. “About some hooded bastards prowling the streets. They went after a friend of ours.”
Lark’s lips twitched. “Hooded, huh? That’s not much to go on.”
Vander leaned in, his broad presence casting a shadow over the man. “You know exactly who we’re talking about.”
Lark hesitated, swirling his drink. He measured his words carefully. “You’re talking about the Mageseekers.”
The word hit like a hammer. Silco’s expression remained unreadable, but Vander stiffened slightly.
“Mageseekers?” Vander repeated. “Never heard of ‘em.”
Lark tilted his head. “You wouldn’t have. They don’t come down here often. But when they do, they’re hunting.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “They work for those with money, be it Piltover, Noxus, anyone with the information to give them what they want... Real nasty types. Their job is to sniff out anyone with magic, and when they find ‘em… Well. Let’s just say they don’t send ‘em off with a friendly warning.”
Silco’s fingers drummed once against the table. “Why come all the way down here for one girl?”
Lark gave a loose shrug. “Could be a mistake. Could be she caught their attention somehow. But if the Mageseekers know about her, that means someone up top does too. Piltover doesn’t waste time chasing ghosts…”
Vander exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a gang looking for an easy target. This was bigger. More dangerous.
Silco pushed back from the table. “If you hear anything else, you’ll let us know.”
Lark smirked. “Of course. For a price.”
Vander reached into his pocket, tossing a few coins onto the table. Lark scooped them up greedily, nodding in satisfaction.
“Be careful,” Lark said as they turned to leave. “If the Mageseekers have her scent, they won’t stop coming.”
Vander and Silco left the gambling den, stepping back into the cold, oil-slicked streets.
“This is bad,” Vander muttered.
Silco’s gaze was hard, calculating. “We’ll handle it.”
But Vander wasn’t so sure. Because for the first time in a long time, they weren’t just up against the Undercity’s dangers. They were up against Piltover, against Mageseekers…
The walk back to the bar was silent. Vander and Silco moved with purpose, their minds spinning with what they had just learned. The Mageseekers were bad enough- but the fact that they were sniffing around meant someone in Piltover had taken notice of (Y/N). That alone was enough to make the situation dangerous.
When Vander and Silco reached the bar, the warm glow of the lights was a stark contrast to the cold weight settling in their chests. The place was still closed to the public, but inside, up the stairs, Felicia sat in the same spot she was in before... On the edge of (Y/N)’s bed, (Y/N) resting beside her.
Felicia looked up as they entered. “Well?” she asked, her voice edged with frustration.
Silco exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. “Mageseekers,” he said flatly. “They’re sent from Piltover. Hunting people like her.” His gaze flickered to (Y/N), still unconscious, her breathing shallow. “If they found her once, they’ll find her again.”
Felicia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “So what do we do?”
Vander pulled up a chair, resting his forearms on his knees. “We stay close. No more going off alone. No more risks. They’ll come back, and when they do, we’ll be ready.”
Felicia nodded, but something about the way she looked at (Y/N) was uneasy. She knew it wasn’t just about keeping her safe anymore.
Felicia let out a quiet sigh, rubbing a hand over her tired face. “I’ll go make some food… She will need the energy…” she murmured, though the exhaustion in her voice betrayed her need for a break. She cast one last glance at (Y/N), still motionless on the bed, before rising to her feet.
Vander followed suit, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. “I’ll be downstairs. Give a shout if anything changes,” he said, though the weight in his tone made it clear he wasn’t expecting good news anytime soon.
Silco remained seated, his sharp eyes never leaving (Y/N). As Vander and Felicia made their way out of the room, the door creaked shut behind them, leaving behind a heavy silence.
For a moment, there was only the dim glow of the bedside lamp, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Silco exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair, his fingers absently toying with a knife at his belt.
“You really don’t make things easy, do you?” he muttered, watching the slow rise and fall of (Y/N)’s chest.
The Undercity was dangerous enough- but now, with the Mageseekers involved, things had taken a sharp and deadly turn.
(Y/N)'s eyelids fluttered open, the dim glow of the bedside lantern casting soft shadows across the room. Her body felt like it had been dragged across the Undercity’s roughest streets, every movement sending sharp pain through her torso. The wound throbbed, stitched together with Felicia’s quick, practiced hands, but the bruises on her ribs and shoulders made even breathing an effort.
She blinked, disoriented, mind foggy from exhaustion and pain.
Silco was sitting nearby, leaning back in a chair, one leg crossed over the other- his sharp eyes were on her the second she stirred.
“You’re awake.” His voice was quiet, but there was something in it. Relief, maybe. It was hard to tell with Silco sometimes.
(Y/N) groaned, shutting her eyes again. “Unfortunately.”
Silco let out a breath that might’ve been a chuckle. “You had us worried,” he admitted, shifting in his seat.
Her fingers twitched as she tried to push herself up slightly, but pain flared up her side, forcing her back down. She sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Shit.”
“Careful,” Silco warned, watching her struggle. “Felicia stitched you up, but you tear that open, and you’ll be bleeding all over again.”
(Y/N) huffed, frustrated. “Feels like I already am.” She hesitated, eyes flickering to Silco. “What happened?”
He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Mageseekers.”
Her stomach twisted at the name.
Silco’s gaze didn’t waver. “They were following us. They caught you when you strayed too far back. Vander and I got to you before they could take you, but one of them got a lucky hit.”
(Y/N) swallowed hard. “And now?”
Silco leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “Now we wait. See what Benzo finds. But you… you don’t leave the bar. Not alone.”
(Y/N)’s lips pressed into a thin line. She hated being confined. Hated feeling weak. But she wasn’t stupid- she knew this was bad.
Still, something nagged at her. The Mageseekers weren’t usually in the Undercity. They had no reason to be here unless… Unless someone had given them one.
Or unless someone else had sent them.
Her throat felt dry. “…They won’t stop, will they?”
Silco was quiet for a moment. Then, with a voice far softer than she expected, he said, “No. They won’t.”
The weight of that truth settled over her, suffocating.
Outside, the distant hum of the Undercity’s streets carried on, the world moving as if nothing had changed. But for (Y/N), everything had.
Silco hadn’t moved from his seat, his eyes never straying far from her as she sat there, lost in thought. The weight of everything pressed against her ribs, heavy and suffocating. The pain, the attack, the realization that she wasn’t safe- probably never had been.
But what got to her most wasn’t the danger. It wasn’t even the Mageseekers. It was the damn feeling of weakness clawing at her insides.
She felt disgusting. Dried blood clung to her skin, crusted over her stomach where the wound had been stitched. Her clothes were stiff with it, the fabric sticking to her in the worst places. She wanted out of them. She wanted to clean herself up, to not feel like she was still stuck in that alley, surrounded by those hooded bastards.
But moving- hell, even sitting up- wasn’t something she could do on her own.
The realization made her stomach twist. She hated this. Hated asking for help, hated feeling small and pathetic. But she’d rather die than go downstairs like this, looking like something dragged through the Lanes and left to rot.
Her fingers curled into the bedsheets as she debated it, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Silco was still watching her, patient but expectant. He knew she was working through something, but he wasn’t going to pry.
Her throat tightened. She exhaled sharply, barely above a whisper.
“…Can you help me?”
Silco raised an eyebrow. “With?”
She clenched her jaw, looking away. “I need to clean up.”
He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t tease her for the hesitation or draw attention to the shame buried in her voice.
Instead, he just stood.
“Alright.”
Relief flooded through her, though she refused to let it show.
With Silco’s help, she slowly- agonizingly- pushed herself up. Every movement sent fresh spikes of pain through her body, her wound burning, but she bit her tongue and kept quiet. Silco slipped an arm around her waist, careful of the injury, keeping her steady as her legs wobbled beneath her.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“I’ll be fine,” she muttered back, though she wasn’t convinced.
Silco guided her across the room to where the old metal basin sat, a rag and a pitcher of water next to it. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had.
“Sit,” he ordered, helping her onto the stool beside it.
She obeyed, too tired to argue.
The water was cold as she poured some into the basin, soaking the rag before wringing it out. She hissed when the cloth touched her skin, wiping away the dried blood from her stomach. It took more effort than she wanted to admit just to lift the hem of her shirt, exposing the stitches.
Silco watched, arms crossed, but he said nothing.
After a few moments, (Y/N) swallowed her pride again and held the rag out to him.
“…Can you get my back?”
Silco took it without a word.
She sucked in a breath as the cold cloth pressed against her shoulder, dragging down her spine where bruises had already started to form. His movements were precise, careful, but he didn’t hesitate. He never did.
She closed her eyes, letting the silence settle between them.
“…Thank you,” she murmured, voice barely above a breath.
Silco didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to.
Once she was clean, he helped her into fresh clothes, a loose shirt that wouldn’t tug at the stitches, before carefully wrapping a new bandage around her torso. Once done, he carefully brought her back into her room.
(Y/N) sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, still adjusting to the feeling of fresh bandages against her skin. She felt better- cleaner, at least- but the soreness hadn’t faded. Her body ached like hell, but at least she didn’t feel like she was drowning in her own blood anymore.
She thought they were done. Thought Silco would leave her to rest now that she was taken care of.
Instead, he stayed.
She tensed when she felt him move behind her, fingers gathering her tangled hair.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Silco didn’t answer immediately. He took the small comb from her bedside table- one she barely used- and ran it through the strands, carefully working through the knots.
“Your hair’s a mess,” he said simply.
(Y/N) huffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, well, getting stabbed tends to make things like brushing my hair less of a priority.”
Silco made a noncommittal sound, focused on his task. He worked in steady strokes, more careful than she expected from someone so sharp-edged. It was… odd.
He was being soft. Unusually so.
(Y/N) didn’t know what to do with that.
She swallowed, staring at her hands in her lap. “…You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
Then why?
The question hung in the air, unspoken.
Silco didn’t answer it, but she could feel it in the way his fingers combed through her hair, untangling the knots with a patience she hadn’t known he possessed.
It wasn’t like him to be openly gentle. But this- this was different.
Maybe he thought she wouldn’t remember. Maybe he assumed the pain, the exhaustion, would dull the weight of this moment. Or maybe he just didn’t care if she noticed.
Either way, she let him do it.
For the first time in a long time, (Y/N) let herself be taken care of.
Silco lingered behind her after tying her hair back, his hands briefly resting on her shoulders before slowly falling away.
He should have left. Should have walked away now that she was taken care of... Instead, he stayed.
(Y/N) sat still, her head slightly bowed, her breathing steady but fragile- like even that took effort. He watched the way her fingers curled into the fabric of her pants, gripping them tightly as if grounding herself.
She had almost died today.
The thought clawed at his mind, tightening in his chest like a vice.
Silco had always understood that death was inevitable in the Undercity. He had seen enough of it to know that anyone could be taken in an instant. But the idea of losing her- of seeing her crumpled in an alley, blood pooling beneath her, magic flickering uncontrollably in her weakened state- was something else entirely.
It was a fear he hadn’t let himself acknowledge.
But now, with her here, still breathing, still alive… He felt it.
(Y/N) exhaled softly, tilting her head slightly, as if sensing the weight of his silence. “You’re still here,” she murmured.
Silco clenched his jaw, steadying himself before responding. “…Yeah.”
A beat of silence stretched between them.
“You’re scared,” she said suddenly.
He stiffened. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
But (Y/N) only gave a tired, knowing smile. “…You are.”
Silco hated that she could see through him.
He hated it even more that she was right.
His hands curled into fists at his sides. “…They almost took you from us.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but there was an edge to it- sharp, dangerous, like the promise of a blade in the dark.
(Y/N) swallowed, her fingers loosening their grip on her pants. “But they didn’t,” she reassured, glancing back at him. “I’m still here.”
Silco’s eyes flickered to hers, searching, unreadable.
Still here.
For now.
He let out a slow breath through his nose, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. He reached out without thinking, his fingers brushing against her back lightly- just enough to feel that she was real. That she wasn’t slipping away.
“…Get some rest,” he murmured, finally stepping away.
(Y/N) didn’t stop him this time.
But before he reached the door, she spoke again- soft, but certain.
“…You don’t have to be scared, Sil...”
He didn’t turn around.
Didn’t tell her that it was too late for that.
The room was quiet now, save for the distant hum of the empty bar below and the occasional creak of pipes in the walls. The dim light on the bedside table flickered, casting long shadows across the room.
(Y/N) lay still, her body heavy with exhaustion, but rest wouldn’t come. The dull ache of her wound pulsed in time with her heartbeat, a constant reminder of how close she had come to being taken. She stared at the ceiling, thoughts circling like vultures.
She couldn’t just lie here.
(Y/N) forced herself up with a wince, pressing a hand against her aching side. The stitches pulled uncomfortably, but she had never been the type to stay still for long- especially not now, when there were Mageseekers lurking in the shadows, and questions she desperately needed answers to.
Her boots were quiet against the floor as she made her way down the stairs, the dim glow of the bar’s lanterns casting warm light over the wooden surfaces. The place was still closed, but Vander was behind the counter, cleaning a glass with slow, thoughtful movements.
His gaze flicked up as soon as she reached the bottom step.
“You shouldn’t be up,” he said, his voice edged with something between exasperation and concern.
(Y/N) exhaled, leaning against the counter. “I’d rather be here than lying in bed, thinking too much.”
Vander sighed, setting the glass down. “That wound’s fresh. You push yourself too hard, kid.”
“I’ll live.”
He gave her a look, one that made it very clear he wasn’t amused. “Not if you go tearing your stitches open.”
(Y/N) only offered a faint smirk in return, ignoring the way her body ached as she pulled herself onto one of the barstools. “Benzo back yet?”
Vander shook his head. “Not yet. But I doubt it’ll take long… And Fel is in back cooking...”
She nodded, tapping her fingers against the worn wood of the bar. Silence stretched between them, save for the distant hum of the Undercity beyond the doors.
It was Silco who finally broke it.
“I told you to rest,” he muttered from his seat near the end of the bar, watching her with sharp, unimpressed eyes.
(Y/N) turned to him, raising a brow. “And I told you I’m fine.”
Silco’s gaze flickered to her side, to the way she was ever so slightly favoring it. “…Sure you are.”
She rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, a door swung open at the far end of the room. Felicia emerged from the back, wiping her hands on a rag, her expression set in a tired scowl.
She froze for a second, eyes narrowing as she took in (Y/N), sitting at the bar when she was supposed to be resting. Then, with a sharp exhale, she threw the rag down onto a nearby table.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered, already storming toward her. “You got stabbed, hours ago, and you’re up and walking around like it’s nothing?”
“I can’t just lay around,” (Y/N) muttered, swaying slightly as she tried to sit up on her stool. “We both know this isn’t over.”
Felicia let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no shit. And you bleeding out on the floor is really gonna help, huh?” She sighs, shaking her head. “I made stew. You’re eating, and then you’re resting. Or Ill knock you out myself…”
There was no real threat behind her words, just frustration, worry- the kind that only came from caring too much. But (Y/N) wasn’t sure she had it in her to fight back against that right now.
(Y/N) didn’t argue, she just slowly nodded. She was too tired. And, truth be told… the stew smelled pretty damn good.
“Good,” Felicia muttered. She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Stubborn idiot.”
(Y/N) smirked faintly. “Takes one to know one.”
Verosika x male!reader dating headcannons please
A/N: Of course, @ultimategraffitiguy! Verosika is one of my favorites :}
Mine, Loud and Clear
Verosika x Male!Reader
Warnings: Sexual themes, Possessiveness/Jealousy, Arguments/Conflict
Word Count: 943
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Verosika was the one who made the first move: Obviously, she knew what she wanted the second she laid eyes on (Y/N) and didn't waste a second before flirting shamelessly, practically daring him not to fall for her.
- At first, (Y/N) thought he was just another target for her to toy with: But when she started genuinely caring whether he texted her back or if he smiled at her during a date, she realized she was in deeper than she meant to be.
- He surprised her by not being easy to push around: Not hostile, but just solid enough that he didn’t let her walk all over him. That infuriated and attracted her all at once.
- In public, Verosika loves flaunting their relationship: Clinging to his arm, stealing kisses, tracing a claw up his chest with a mischievous smirk while other demons stare. "What? You think I'm gonna hide how hot my man is? Dream on."
- Dates are extravagant if she plans them: Exclusive clubs, private concerts, trips to weird, beautiful corners of Hell- but (Y/N) tends to suggest things like movies, walks through busy streets, or greasy, hole-in-the-wall diners. Somehow, she ends up loving his ideas even more.
- Verosika flirts like breathing: Constantly, effortlessly, shamelessly. She'll whisper dirty things right in (Y/N)'s ear in the middle of a crowded room just to watch him blush and stammer like a fool.
- Her favorite thing? Making him squirm: She’ll drag a finger up his thigh under the table, lean in way too close, brush her fangs against his ear as she pretends to "ask a question"- all while acting totally innocent if anyone notices.
- (Y/N) learned quickly that challenging her only makes her worse: "You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna rattle me, babe." Cue Verosika grabbing him by the collar and proving she absolutely can rattle him.
- Possessive as hell… but fun about it: If another demon so much as looks at him the wrong way, she’ll pull him into a kiss so deep and smug it leaves him dizzy. When they pull away, she'll smirk at the onlookers with a "he's mine, back off" kind of look.
- She loves leaving marks: Hickeys low on his neck, nail scratches on his back, lipstick smudges on his mouth- anything to make sure everyone knows who he's with.
- (Y/N) finds out she's extremely physical when she’s really in the mood: grabbing, pinning, climbing into his lap without warning, sitting in his chair and pulling him down into a kiss until he's gasping.
- Dirty talk? Constant. Merciless: "Careful how you look at me, sweetheart... I might have to drag you somewhere private and ruin you." She loves watching his face heat up- it’s almost a game to see how fast she can get him flustered.
- She teases him about his reactions nonstop: "Aww, look at you. All red for me? You're adorable." And if he tries to flip it and tease her? Good luck. Verosika loves a challenge- she'll escalate until he's the one begging for mercy.
- When she’s feeling extra playful, she’ll dress just a little more scandalous if she knows they’re going somewhere public: Tiny skirts, plunging tops, tail flicking at his knees- all so he struggles to keep it together while she acts totally innocent.
- But it’s not just physical: Sometimes, when they're alone and it’s quiet, she’ll crawl into his lap, bury her face against his neck, and mumble soft, sultry promises against his skin. (Y/N) can always tell when it's not just teasing- when it’s real and vulnerable underneath all the heat.
- Verosika loves when he gets bold: If (Y/N) ever turns the tables- like grabbing her waist and pinning her to the wall mid flirt- it drives her crazy. She loves that tiny flash of dominance from him, especially because she knows she’s the only one who gets to see it.
- (Y/N) learned quickly that Verosika is a jealous creature, even if she tries to play it cool: If anyone flirts with him, she immediately stakes her claim- usually with a kiss that leaves him dizzy and the offender looking for the nearest exit.
- But behind closed doors, she softens: She loves sprawling across (Y/N)'s chest after a long day, her wings loosely draped over him, lazily tracing little patterns over his skin with her nails while they talk about absolutely nothing important.
- Verosika secretly treasures the little, normal things he does: Holding the door open for her, tucking her hair behind her ear, bringing her a drink without her asking. She’ll tease him mercilessly about it, but she will have the biggest smile on her face the whole time.
- Whenever she’s stressed or overwhelmed (which happens more than she’ll admit), she finds herself instinctively seeking him out: Even if it's just to sit next to him while she works through her thoughts. He’s one of the only people she trusts enough to see her without all the glamour. No makeup, no elaborate outfits, no show. Just Verosika- tired, gorgeous, and real.
- When they fight (because they do), it's explosive: lots of shouting, dramatic exits, slamming doors- but (Y/N) never lets her go to bed angry. He’ll find a way back to her, even if it’s just leaning against her door and muttering a stubborn, half-sincere "I’m not leaving until you hear me out." - Verosika never thought she'd settle down: She never even amused the idea she would care so much about someone else's happiness, but (Y/N) somehow made it feel easy- normal, even. She still won't admit she's "soft," though. Not yet.
hello, can u make nsfw headcanons for sub!makoto naegi x male reader plisss
A/N: Absolutely! I can do that :}
Melt for Me
Sub!Makoto Naegi x Male!Reader
Warnings: MDNI 18+, Explicit sexual content, Dominance/Submission Dynamics, Praise Kink, Physical Restraints, Orgasm Control/Denial, Overstimulation
Word Count: 645
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Makoto is a naturally obedient mess: It doesn’t even take (Y/N) raising his voice. A firm look, a subtle command, or even a hand at the back of his neck is enough to have Makoto nodding, face burning, ready to do whatever he's told.
- He craves praise like oxygen: (Y/N) quickly picks up on it- a murmured "good boy" in his ear will have Makoto melting, his knees buckling, his face hiding against (Y/N)'s chest to escape how much he's blushing.
- Makoto has the softest whimpers when (Y/N) pulls his hair: Not rough enough to hurt, but firm enough to guide his head wherever (Y/N) wants it. It makes Makoto shiver- it always leaves him pliant and needy.
- (Y/N) loves the way Makoto fidgets when he’s being teased: Biting his lip, shifting his weight, fists clenching at his sides like he's fighting the urge to beg out loud. Sometimes, (Y/N) will order him to "keep still," just to watch him tremble from the effort.
- Makoto secretly loves being marked: (Y/N) trailing his teeth along his neck, leaving faint bruises hidden under his clothes? It makes Makoto feel claimed. It’s both humiliating and addictive.
- Punishments are almost worse because Makoto likes them: If he slips up- talking back, hesitating too long, or being bratty- (Y/N) makes him kneel, hands behind his back, eyes low. And Makoto aches to be forgiven.
- Makoto is so easy to overwhelm with dirty talk: A few low-spoken threats or promises from (Y/N) and he's a shaking, panting mess, barely able to function. (Y/N) teases him by whispering filth in his ear during normal activities, just to see him choke on his words.
- Makoto is absolutely weak for being pinned: Whether it's pressed up against a wall, pinned to a bed, or trapped on (Y/N)’s lap with no escape, it gets Makoto dizzy and breathless fast. (Y/N) loves using his strength to manhandle him a little, especially when Makoto squirms just to be caught again.
- Overstimulation Games: (Y/N) loves to tie Makoto’s wrists above his head, blindfold him, and just… take his time. Feather-light touches, whispered threats, teasing and denying him until Makoto’s begging- voice cracking- promising he’ll be "so good" if (Y/N) just lets him finish.
- "On Your Knees": Makoto reacts instantly when (Y/N) uses that tone. Doesn’t matter if they’re home, in a hallway, anywhere. His legs give out almost automatically, pupils blown wide, waiting for permission to move any further.
- (Y/N) trains Makoto to ask for what he wants: No more shy hints or hopeful glances- Makoto has to say it, clearly and properly. "Please, touch me." "Please, can I come?" And every time he does, (Y/N) rewards him devastatingly well. No vague whining- full sentences, clear language, desperate voice. "Please, I need you. I need you so bad, I'll do anything, please just-" (Y/N) watches, arms crossed, making him work for every reward.
- Orgasm Control: (Y/N) sometimes forbids Makoto from finishing until he says he can. Makoto's thighs tremble, his whole body tight with the effort to obey. The first time he accidentally came without permission, the punishment was so slow and deliciously cruel that Makoto apologized for days.
- Despite all the heat and dominance, there's a tenderness underneath it: Makoto knows, with unshakable certainty, that (Y/N) treasures him- every trembling, obedient part of him. Makoto gets pulled into (Y/N)'s lap, wrapped up tight, praised sweetly until he’s hiccuping little sobs of gratitude against his chest. - Aftercare Overload: No matter how rough (Y/N) gets, after it’s over, Makoto is tucked into bed, hair stroked, soft kisses pressed against every sore spot. (Y/N) whispers praises into his hair, calling him beautiful, perfect, precious- until Makoto falls asleep blissed out and safe.
ׄ 𓈒 ❤︎ 𓈒 ׄ ~~ Masterlist ~~ ׄ 𓈒 ❤︎ 𓈒 ׄ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Requests are open! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
Feel free to use my ask box to request anything, within reason. I am open to adding more fandoms to my list, but only if I've interacted with them, and know the lore of what I am writing is. I am also willing to add more things to the list of stuff I'm willing to write, depending on what is requested. I do not do Art requests, but I am thinking about doing commissions, eventually.
Art posts! ٩(ˊᗜˋ )و
-Older pieces
-Mostly unfinished pieces
-Profile pic redraw
Things I will write ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎
One shots
Fluff
Angst
Smut (assume characters involved in mature content are of age, obviously. Also, I don't normally just do smut for smut, I have to have some sort of plot device to keep the story moving.)
Full works
Headcannons
Multi-parts
Things I wont write (·•᷄ࡇ•᷅ )
Any type of noncon
Incest
Anything mature involving anyone Underage
Literally anything involving the character Aoi Asahina. (I was threatened, and I do not wish to deal with that shit, at all. Any and all characters I think will put me in danger, expect them to be put on this list.)
Finished Fic's ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱
-Ember in the Dark: Young!Silco x Fem!Reader (Full Work)
Oneshots ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜
-Locked Tight: Yasuhiro Hagakure feat. Kiyotata Ishamaru (Smut) (Requested)
-Trust Fall Trauma: Sinner!Amity Blight x Hazbin Hotel. (Requested)
Part.1
Part.2
-Hellbound: The Owl House x Hazbin Hotel AU (Requested)
-Where the Hurt Doesn’t Reach: Multifandom x Reader (Requested)
Part.1 (Peko, Mikan, and Tenko x Male!Reader)
Part.2 (Sayaka, Celestia, and Sonia x Male!Reader)
Part.3 (Charlie, Emily, and Verosika x Male!Reader)
Part.4 (Mahiru, Toko/Genocide Jack, and Maki x Female!Reader)
Part.5 (Kyoko, Kaede, and Miu x Male!Reader)
Part.6 (Chiaki, Akane and Junko x Male!Reader)
-Terrible Prank- Better Apology: Demon Slayer x Fem!Reader (Requested)
Part.1 (Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Genya)
-Ashes of Grace: Sera x Overlord!Male!Reader (Requested)
-Stronger than Chains: Mondo Owada (Requested)
-You Can Be Weak With Me: Inosuke x GN!Reader (Requested)
-Feral Loyalty: Verosika x Fem!Reader (Requested)
Headcanons ＼(^o^)／
-Journey into Intimacy: First time Danganronpa Headcanons (Smut) (Requested)
Part.1 (Mahiru and Kaede)
Part.2 (Kyoko, Celeste, and Toko/Genocide Jack)
-The Softest Spotlight: Sayaka x GN!Reader Fluff Headcannons
-A Little Too Close: Shuichi x GN!Reader Headcannons (Reqested)
-Carnival Hearts: Demon Slayer x Fem!Black!Reader Headcannons (Reqested)
Part.1 (Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Genya)
-All of Me, All of You: Demon Slayer x GN!Black!Reader
Part.1 (Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and Genya)
-Mine, Loud and Clear: Verosika x Male!Reader (Requested)
-Melt for Me: Sub!Makoto Naegi x Male!Reader (Smut) (Requested)
-Soft Places to Fall: Genya x GN!Reader (Requested)
-Raised by the End of the World: Older-Sister!Reader x The Walking Dead (Requested)
Full works ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
-Ember in the Dark: Young!Silco x Fem!Reader
Part.1
Part.2
Part.3
Part.4
Part.5
Part.6
Part.7
Part.8
Part. 9
Part.10
Part.11 (Last Part)
-Loyalty Cuts Deepest: Silco x Fem!Reader
Part.1
Part.2
-Drifting Between Worlds: Hunter x Fem!Reader (Requested)
Part.1
Part.2
Different Fandoms I am willing to write for! ♡꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱
Arcane
Attack on Titan
Avatar the Last Air Bender
Adventure Time
Black Butler
Baldur's Gate 3
Creepypasta
DC universe
Death Note
Danganronpa
Detroit: Become Human
Demon Slayer
Hazbin Hotel
Helluva Boss
Homestuck
Marvel
My Hero Acedemia
Naruto
Peaky Blinders
Red Dead Redemption 2
Supernatural
Stranger Things
Sally Face
Soul Eater
Steven Universe
The Owl House
The Walking Dead
The Last of Us
Undertale
Hiiii!!!
I absolutely adore your Silco x reader, it's wonderful. Your writing it great 🥺 I was wondering if I could make a request? Okay, so, I love TOH, and SU, and you have both listed on your masterlist, sooooooo I was thinking maybe you could mix them?
Here's my idea, Hunter x reader, but reader is half Gem, like Steven. She somehow finds herself in the Demon realm, and ends up having to join the Coven Scouts, so she can find a way home.
A/N: Hiiii!!! Thank you so much! I can absolutely do that. I also love TOH and SU, so this is awesome. Actually, if it's okay, I'd love to make this into a new series because I had SO much fun writing it! If it's not okay, you can go ahead and send me a dm or another ask, and I won't, but I loved the idea, so I'd be more than willing to.
Drifting Between Worlds pt.1
Hunter x Fem!Reader
pt.2
Warnings: Violence/Physical Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Manipulation, Blood/Injury, Power Imbalance/Authoritarian Abuse, Themes of Control/Oppression
Word Count: 7292
Summary: (Y/N), a half-human, half-Gem, is transported to the Boiling Isles and brought to Belos by his scouts. Forced into the Emperor’s Coven, she trains alongside Hunter, growing close to him while searching for a way home. During a scouting mission, they discover Eda Clawthorne teaching a human girl- Luz. Knowing the danger of this revelation, (Y/N) hesitates to report it, but Hunter insists on following protocol. When they inform Belos, he punishes Hunter, leaving him scarred. Furious but powerless, (Y/N) helps Hunter recover and comforts him, strengthening their bond. However, witnessing Belos’s cruelty sparks (Y/N)’s growing doubts about his rule.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Y/N) gasped for air as she broke through the surface of the water, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her entire body ached from the force of being shot through- whatever that was. One second, she was swimming in the ocean back home, and the next, she was being hurled through some kind of portal.
She blinked, disoriented. The sky above her was a deep, unnatural purple, with swirling clouds. Strange, jagged rock formations jutted out of the landscape around her, glowing with eerie light. But the most terrifying thing? The water below her boiled.
(Y/N) barely managed to grab onto a rocky ledge before she slipped back down. Her fingers burned slightly from the heat of the steam rising off the water. Breathing heavily, she pulled herself up, rolling onto her back and staring at the alien sky.
“What the heck,” she muttered, sitting up. She took stock of herself- her bathing suit was intact, even if it wasn’t ideal for whatever situation this was. She patted her collarbone, where the smooth, light pink Onyx was embedded into her skin. At least it wasn't cracked...
She had been through weird situations before- living with Steven and the Crystal Gems meant weird was normal- but this? This was new.
(Y/N) stood, shaking out her limbs and glancing around. The terrain was wild and unfamiliar, filled with crooked trees and strange creatures flitting about in the distance. “Okay,” she said to herself, taking a deep breath. “Step one: find someone in charge. Step two: figure out where I am...”
She moved cautiously, her bare feet brushing against the rough ground. She wasn’t too worried about getting hurt- her being a Gem meant minor scrapes and cuts weren’t a problem- but she didn’t exactly want to go charging into danger.
After what felt like an eternity of wandering, (Y/N) spotted movement- a figure, in uniform, carrying some kind of spear, walking along a worn dirt path.
A guard!
Hope flared in her chest, and she ran toward them. “Hey! Hey, excuse me!”
The guard- a creature with a birdlike mask and a white cloak- whipped around, gripping their spear tighter. “Halt! Who goes there?”
(Y/N) skidded to a stop, holding up her hands. “Whoa, whoa! I don’t mean any harm. I just- I need help. I’m lost. I don’t know how I got here.”
The guard’s head tilted. “You are… human?”
(Y/N) hesitated. “Uh… half?” She tapped her Gem. “Long story. But yeah, mostly human.”
The guard stepped back. “Humans are not meant to be here.”
(Y/N) groaned. “Yeah, I figured. Look, I just need to find someone in charge- some kind of authority? Maybe they can help me figure out how to get home?”
The guard hesitated, then sighed. “You should not be here. But I cannot leave you to wander. Come with me.”
Relieved, (Y/N) followed as the guard led her down the path, her mind racing. She had no idea what world she had stumbled into, but one thing was for sure- she had a long way to go before she found her way home.
(Y/N) followed the masked guard through the bizarre landscape of the Boiling Isles, her bare feet brushing over gnarled roots, uneven stone, and patches of strange, pulsing moss. Everywhere she looked, there were creatures that seemed ripped straight from a fever dream- multi-eyed birds, chimeric beasts with too many limbs, and even a small, scampering thing that looked like a skull with legs.
She tried to keep her face neutral, but every now and then, a shudder ran through her. She had seen weird before- Homeworld’s Gems, corrupted monsters, the things that lurked in Beach City’s more supernatural corners- but this? This was something else entirely.
“Are we almost there?” she asked after what felt like forever.
The guard barely turned their head. “Patience, human.”
She huffed, crossing her arms, but kept walking. Eventually, they emerged onto a wide, towering bridge that stretched over a massive chasm, and beyond it stood an enormous structure.
The castle- or palace- was massive, carved from gleaming white stone with gold accents. Tall spires twisted toward the sky, adorned with massive banners depicting a sigil she didn’t recognize. The entire place had a looming, eerie feel, like it was meant to impress and intimidate.
The guard gestured toward it. “This is Emperor Belos’s Castle. You stand before the heart of the Emperor’s Coven.”
(Y/N) frowned. “Right. And that means…?”
The guard didn’t answer, simply leading her across the bridge.
As they entered the palace, (Y/N) got an even better look at the inside- huge corridors lined with pillars, flickering torches casting long shadows, and walls decorated with more of those same sigils. Guards in similar white masks patrolled, watching her with curiosity- or suspicion.
“Where are we going?” she asked, voice lower now.
“To the Emperor,” the guard replied.
(Y/N) blinked. “Wait, seriously? I was meaning more of like, a local with some sort of knowledge or something… Not your leader or whatever...”
“You wished to meet someone with authority,” the guard said plainly. “There is no higher authority than Emperor Belos.”
Well. That was something.
As they walked deeper into the castle, (Y/N) felt her stomach twist uneasily. She had no idea who this Belos guy was, but something about this place felt… wrong. There was a heaviness in the air, a weight that settled against her skin, making her Gem hum faintly in her chest.
Something was off.
But she had come this far. If this Emperor guy could help her get home, she had to try.
Squaring her shoulders, (Y/N) followed the guard deeper into the palace, toward whatever fate awaited her.
The grand doors to the throne room swung open with an eerie creak, revealing a vast chamber lined with towering pillars. The air was thick with the scent of something old, like parchment and candle wax, but there was an undercurrent of something… darker.
(Y/N) swallowed hard as she stepped forward, her feet hitting the cold stone floor. At the far end of the room, seated atop an imposing throne, was the man she assumed to be Emperor Belos.
His presence filled the room like an unseen weight pressing against her shoulders. He was draped in a flowing white cloak, gold accents catching the dim light, and his face was hidden behind an ornate golden mask. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she felt his gaze settle on her.
Beside her, the masked guard immediately knelt, lowering their head in reverence.
(Y/N), on the other hand, shifted awkwardly.
Yeah...
She wasn't doing that.
Instead, she let out a nervous laugh and rocked on her heels. “Uh. Hi. I take it you're the guy in charge?”
The guard shot her a look from beneath their mask, but Belos merely tilted his head. His voice, when he spoke, was smooth- calm, but holding a distinct weight to it.
"You are… different.”
(Y/N) blinked. “Uh. Yeah, understatement of the year.” She gestured vaguely to herself. “Human. Or, well, half. Kind of got lost, ended up here. Thought maybe someone in charge could help.”
There was a long pause. The air in the room felt colder.
“Half-human…” Belos murmured, almost as if he was turning the thought over in his mind. He rested his chin on one gloved hand. “How fascinating.”
(Y/N) didn’t like the way he said that.
Her fingers twitched, and instinctively, she reached up to brush her Gem- a small, subconscious action she often did when she was nervous.
Belos’s head moved ever so slightly, like he had noticed.
“You say you arrived here by accident,” he said. “How?”
(Y/N) hesitated. “I, uh… I was swimming. In the ocean. Then, boom- portal. And next thing I know, I’m nearly getting boiled alive.” She gestured vaguely toward the door. “So, if you could help me find a way back to my world, that’d be great.”
Silence.
Belos regarded her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he rose from his throne.
(Y/N) stiffened. She was good at reading emotions- her connection to them ran deeper than most- but right now, standing in front of this man, she felt… nothing. It was like standing in front of a void.
“You wish to return home,” he said, stepping down toward her. “And yet… you are something quite rare. A human in the Demon Realm is already an anomaly. But a half-human with a power I do not yet understand? That is even more intriguing.”
(Y/N) took a step back. “Uh. Cool? I mean, I’m flattered, really, but I kinda just wanna go home.”
Belos stopped a few feet in front of her. He was tall- taller than she expected- and even though she couldn’t see his face, she felt the intensity of his gaze.
“You may yet prove useful, child.”
That set off every alarm in her brain.
“Yeahhh, see, I don’t love being called ‘useful’ by ominous masked guys in creepy castles,” (Y/N) said, forcing a grin. “So, if that’s all, I think I’ll just-”
She turned on her heel, ready to leave, but before she could take another step, a wave of green magic flickered out from Belos’s fingertips.
(Y/N) barely had time to react before the ground beneath her feet locked up, thick green tendrils snapping around her ankles like chains.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
Okay. Not good. Really not good.
Belos tilted his head. “I believe you will stay here a while longer.”
(Y/N) stood frozen, the green bindings around her ankles pulsing faintly with energy. Her mind raced, trying to figure out the best way to not be trapped in this nightmare situation, but Belos spoke before she could act.
“I have made my decision,” he said, voice calm, measured. “You will join my Coven.”
(Y/N)’s stomach dropped. “Wait, what?”
“You will receive the mark of the Emperor’s Coven,” he continued, ignoring her protests. “And you will train to become one of my Scouts. You will learn our ways, our laws, and how magic truly works in this world.”
(Y/N)’s hands clenched into fists. “Yeah, huge problem with that- I don’t do well with being told what to do.”
Belos regarded her, unmoved. “You wish to return home, do you not?”
(Y/N) hesitated.
Belos took a step closer. “There are no known portals back to the Human Realm. None that I know of.” There was something about the way he said it that made her gut twist- like maybe he did know something, and just wasn’t planning on telling her. “But if one were to be discovered…”
(Y/N)’s breath caught.
“I would decide whether or not you needed to know.”
Her fingers twitched toward her Gem, her instincts screaming at her. She could fight him, try to break free- but the room was filled with guards, and she wasn’t exactly at full strength after being thrown into this insane world.
For now, she needed to play along.
She forced her shoulders to relax and exhaled sharply through her nose. “So let me get this straight. I get branded with some magic tattoo, train to be one of your creepy bird-mask guys, and in exchange, you might help me get home?”
Belos tilted his head, as if amused. “That is the arrangement.”
(Y/N) gritted her teeth. The sigil- whatever it was- was meant for witches, right? But she wasn’t a witch. That whole system shouldn’t even apply to her. And yet, he still wanted her branded.
Something about that sat very wrong with her.
But she had no choice.
Not right now.
She forced herself to nod. “Fine.”
Belos lifted his hand, green magic curling around his fingertips. “Then we begin.”
A wave of energy surged forward, striking her wrist like searing hot ink.
(Y/N) clenched her teeth, swallowing down a hiss as the magic carved itself into her skin. The symbol of the Emperor’s Coven flared bright for a moment before settling, leaving behind an eerie, glowing mark embedded into her flesh.
She glared up at Belos, heart pounding.
"Enough of this," Belos said, his voice echoing through the throne room. His tone was final, dismissive. "The decision has been made. Send word to Hunter- she will be joining him in his room. That way, I can ensure the human is kept under watch."
(Y/N) stiffened. Hunter? That name meant nothing to her, but the idea of being shoved into some random room with a complete stranger wasn’t exactly comforting.
Belos turned his gaze toward one of the scouts. "You. Take her to her quarters."
The scout immediately bowed. "Yes, Emperor Belos. It would be my pleasure."
(Y/N) scowled but kept her mouth shut as the scout gestured for her to follow. As much as she wanted to argue, to push back, she knew she had no leverage here. Not yet.
The golden sigil on her wrist still tingled uncomfortably as she was led through the castles halls. The deeper they went, the more she realized just how massive this place was. There were halls lined with banners of the Emperor’s sigil, corridors guarded by silent scouts in their eerie masks, and doors leading to rooms she probably didn’t want to know the purpose of.
She kept her arms crossed over her chest, partly from irritation, partly because she was still just wearing a bathing suit.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they arrived at a set of large wooden doors. The scout opened one, stepping aside.
"This will be your room," the scout said. "You’ll be sharing it with the Emperor’s nephew, Hunter. He’s also training to become a scout. You’ll receive your uniforms and off-duty clothing shortly."
(Y/N) arched an eyebrow. "The Emperor’s nephew?"
The scout gave a stiff nod. "He is young, but skilled. The Emperor believes it best that he keeps an eye on you."
Of course he does… (Y/N) sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Great. He's on babysitting duty."
The scout didn’t respond- just motioned for her to step inside.
(Y/N) hesitated before entering. The room wasn’t terrible, but it was nothing fancy either. Two small beds sat on opposite sides of the space, both neatly made. There was a single wardrobe, a desk against the far wall, and a few shelves lined with books, candles, and training manuals.
The room smelled faintly of parchment and dust, mixed with something vaguely metallic- probably from whatever weapons or armor were stored in here.
And then she spotted him.
A boy sat on the edge of one of the beds, hunched over a book. He looked up when she walked in, his bright magenta eyes immediately locking onto her.
He was younger than her- probably twelve, a little shorter than her, with short blond hair that swooped slightly in front of his face. His features were sharp, with a hooked nose and a slight gap between his teeth. He had a small chip in his ear, but other than that, he didn’t seem to have any visible scars.
For a second, they just stared at each other.
Then, (Y/N) sighed dramatically and flopped onto the unoccupied bed.
“So, Hunter, huh?” she said, folding her arms behind her head. “Guess that makes you my new babysitter.”
The boy bristled. “I’m not your babysitter,” he said quickly, his voice carrying the kind of indignant edge only a twelve-year-old could manage. “I’m training to become a scout. I have actual responsibilities.”
(Y/N) smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not much older than me.”
“I’m thirteen.”
“That’s barely a difference.”
“Still older.”
Hunter exhaled sharply through his nose and shut his book with a snap. “Look,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t know why my uncle wants me to share a room with you, but just stay out of my way, and we won’t have any problems.”
(Y/N) snorted. “Oh, trust me, staying out of the way is the last thing I plan to do.”
Hunter gave her a long, scrutinizing look.
Before either of them could say anything else, a knock at the door interrupted them.
A scout stepped inside, dropping a neatly folded pile of clothes onto a nearby chair. "These are for you," they said to (Y/N). "Your scout uniforms, a mask, and a few off-duty outfits."
(Y/N) sat up, finally feeling a little relieved. "Awesome. Running around in a bathing suit wasn’t exactly my plan for today."
The scout gave a curt nod before leaving.
(Y/N) picked up one of the uniforms, inspecting it. The material was sturdy but flexible, mostly gray with black accents- same as what she had seen on the others. The off-duty clothes were simpler, mostly dark tones, but comfortable-looking.
Hunter watched her from his bed, arms still crossed.
"So," he said, voice measured. "You’re really human?"
(Y/N) glanced at him, then tapped her collarbone where her Gem gleamed faintly. "Half."
Hunter’s magenta eyes flickered to the gemstone, curiosity flashing across his face.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Hunter tilted his head. "Well… at least you’re not completely useless."
(Y/N) snorted. "Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult, but I’ll take it."
Hunter just hummed, flipping open his book again.
(Y/N) exhaled, rubbing at the fresh sigil on her wrist.
This was her new reality- for now, at least.
But she had no plans to stick around forever.
She just had to play along… until she found a way out.
Two years had passed since (Y/N) had been thrown into the Boiling Isles. Two years since she had been forced into the Emperor’s Coven, branded with a sigil meant for witches- one that, strangely, never seemed to affect her the way it did others.
She had learned a lot in that time.
Magic wasn’t just one thing here- it was divided, structured, controlled. There were different types of magic, and each coven specialized in one: Abominations, Healing, Illusions, Potions, and so on. Every witch was expected to join a coven, to be marked with a sigil that locked them into one type of magic for life. Only the Emperor’s Coven- Belos’s personal force- had the privilege of wielding multiple types of magic.
And anyone who refused to join a coven?
A wild witch.
(Y/N) had heard plenty about them. The Emperor painted them as dangerous, reckless, a threat to the system that kept order in the Isles. But the more she learned, the more she saw how much of it was just control.
She had trained alongside Hunter, learning the ways of the scouts, learning about the world she had been thrown into. And, in that time, she had become something she never expected- a partner.
After their training, they had been officially paired as scouting partners, working together on missions for the Emperor’s Coven. They had been given a slightly larger room than before, though they still shared it- two separate beds, a single wardrobe, and a small desk where Hunter often poured over books late into the night... Plus the little things (Y/N) made, scattered about in some places.
Despite their rocky start, they had grown into a strange, competitive sort of friendship.
Hunter was still Hunter, stubborn, cocky, always trying to prove himself. But over the years, (Y/N) had seen the cracks in his mask. He wasn’t just some power-hungry lackey- he wanted to be something, to prove his worth.
She got that.
And, despite everything, she trusted him more than anyone else in this place.
Not that she’d tell him that.
(Y/N) leaned against the railing of a high balcony overlooking the city of Bonesborough. The sky was dimming, lanterns flickering to life across the streets below. She tugged her gloves higher over her hands, absentmindedly brushing her fingers over the sigil on her wrist.
It still didn’t affect her.
Not the way it did witches. She had seen them struggle when they tried to use magic outside of their coven’s restriction, felt their pain when the sigil burned into them. But her? She could still summon her weapons, still feel the hum of energy in her Gem, still do things no one else here could.
And Belos knew it.
He had never spoken about it directly, but she had seen the way he watched her, the way he monitored her training, like she was an experiment he hadn’t quite figured out yet.
And she hated it.
“(Y/N).”
Hunter’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see him approaching, his white Scout cloak swaying with each step. He had gotten taller over the years- not by much, but enough that he was no longer shorter than her. His face had grown sharper, more defined, but his magenta eyes still held that same intense focus.
“Daydreaming again?” he asked, stopping beside her.
(Y/N) smirked. “What can I say? Your Uncle gives us such boring work, Blondie.”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “We have a mission tomorrow. Higher-ups want us scouting near the Knee. We leave at dawn.”
“Right, right,” she said, waving a hand. “Any actual details, or do I have to guess?”
Hunter huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s just recon. There have been rumors of wild witches moving in that area. We’re supposed to investigate, report back if we find anything.”
(Y/N) exhaled through her nose. She knew how this went. If they found wild witches, they were supposed to report them, let the coven take care of it.
The problem was…
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to.
Over the past few months, rumors had been circulating- whispers about wild witches banding together, resisting the coven system. And, more interestingly, there had been talk of something else.
Another human.
(Y/N) had been keeping her ears open, listening for any mention of this mystery person. A human in the Isles? That wasn’t something that happened every day. If there really was someone else from her world here, she needed to find them.
Hunter shifted beside her, his eyes scanning the streets below. “You’re distracted.”
(Y/N) shrugged. “Aren’t I always?”
Hunter frowned but didn’t press. He knew her well enough by now to know when she wasn’t ready to talk. Still, as the sky darkened and the city lights flickered, (Y/N) made a silent decision. If there was another human here… She was going to find them.
After gazing at the area below for a while longer, the two of them head back to the Castle, to rest and prepare for the mission in the morning...
When the time came, the wind howled as (Y/N) and Hunter crouched low behind a jagged rock formation, scanning the Knee for any signs of wild witch activity. The area was desolate- snow-covered ruins and eerie skeletal remains of the Titan’s long-dead body stretched across the landscape. It was cold, but nothing (Y/N) couldn’t handle.
Hunter adjusted his mask, his magenta eyes narrowing as he peered through the holes. “Anything?” he asked.
(Y/N) kept her eyes on the distant figures ahead. “Couple of witchlings,” she muttered. “Nothing worth reporting.”
Hunter sighed. “Great. Another boring recon mission.”
(Y/N) smirked. “You’re the one who wanted to take this seriously, Blondie.”
Hunter shot her a glare, but she ignored him, focusing on the three witches she had spotted earlier.
The Blight kids.
She recognized them from past missions- Edric and Emira, the older twins, and their younger sister, Amity. They weren’t causing any trouble, just training. The twins were helping their sister with a training wand, guiding her as she practiced spells.
It was harmless.
(Y/N) leaned back against the rock. “Nothing to worry about. They’re still in school. Too young to be locked into a coven yet.”
Hunter hummed in agreement, but they both knew that wasn’t always a guarantee. Not many were allowed to join covens as young as they had been, but the Emperor had made exceptions before.
(Y/N) turned her gaze elsewhere, scanning the landscape for anything unusual.
That’s when she saw them.
At first, she thought they were just another pair of witches training in the wilderness. One was tall, wearing a red dress, with a coat over it. She was moving with practiced ease, magic swirling at her fingertips. The other was younger- around twelve, maybe- with a small frame and a hat covering her head.
(Y/N) wouldn’t have thought anything of it… if it weren’t for the way the girl struggled.
The older woman flicked her wrist, effortlessly making a spell circle. The younger girl tried to copy her… but nothing happened. She tried again, waving her hands frantically, but the magic simply wasn’t there.
The girl pouted, stomping her foot in frustration.
(Y/N)’s breath hitched.
That… wasn’t normal. Most witchlings could do at least some magic, even if it was weak, even if it needed assistance. But this girl? Nothing. Her eyes darted back to the older woman. It took her a second to recognize her, but when she did, her stomach twisted.
The Owl Lady.
(Y/N) had heard about her before- Eda Clawthorne. A notorious wild witch, a troublemaker, and someone the Emperor had his eye on.
And she was training a girl who couldn’t use magic.
(Y/N)’s fingers twitched toward her Gem, her mind racing.
A human.
It had to be.
She could feel Hunter shift beside her, his attention also locked onto the scene ahead. “That’s the Owl Lady,” he murmured. “We should report this.”
(Y/N) hesitated. “Should we?”
Hunter turned to her, brow furrowed. “She’s a known wild witch. You know the rules- if we spot her, we report her.”
(Y/N) clenched her jaw. She knew the rules. She had followed them for two years- but this was different. This wasn’t just a wild witch causing trouble. This was another human.
And if Belos found out?
She had no doubt in her mind- this girl wouldn’t get a choice in what happened next.
“…Not yet,” (Y/N) said.
Hunter frowned. “What?”
(Y/N) forced a smirk. “Come on, Blondie. You really think Belos doesn’t already know the Owl Lady’s out here? If we bring him this, he’s just going to say we wasted his time.”
Hunter hesitated, clearly torn.
(Y/N) pressed further. “Let’s keep watching. See what they’re up to. If it’s anything actually dangerous, then we report it.”
Hunter exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if we get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”
(Y/N) grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She turned her gaze back to the girl.
This was it.
This was her chance to finally get some answers.
(Y/N) moved silently through the snow-covered terrain, crouching low behind the jagged rock formations as she and Hunter edged closer to The Owl Lady and the young girl. The wind howled through the valley, but she barely felt the cold, her entire focus locked onto the scene in front of her.
She needed to be sure- was this girl really human? Or just a witch with some sort of magic-blocking issue?
Hunter followed after her, his arms crossed, clearly annoyed. “This is reckless,” he muttered under his breath. “We should’ve reported this already.”
(Y/N) smirked. “You should’ve reported this already. I never said I was going to.”
Hunter groaned. “This is why I don’t let you plan things.”
(Y/N) ignored him, her eyes fixed on Eda and the girl.
The Owl Lady was… something else.
Instead of teaching the girl proper spells, she was eating snow, explaining the different types as if that had anything to do with magic. The girl- who was bundled up in a coat and hat- looked increasingly frustrated, her arms flailing as she pouted.
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. What kind of training method is that?
“She’s not even teaching her,” Hunter whispered, unimpressed. “What is this supposed to be?”
“No clue,” (Y/N) muttered, tilting her head as she watched.
The girl huffed, stomping her foot. “Eda! I wanna learn real magic! Not about weird snow flavors!”
Eda licked a bit of snow off her hand, nodding sagely. “That’s exactly what someone who doesnt know what they are doing would say.”
The girl groaned dramatically, throwing her arms up. “Come on! You said you’d teach me properly if I became your apprentice!”
Eda sighed. “And I will! But magic isn’t just about waving your hands around and hoping for the best, kid.” She turned her back for a moment, rummaging through her bag. “You’ve gotta understand it, feel it-”
(Y/N)’s eyes sharpened as the girl suddenly perked up, her expression shifting.
Something mischievous.
She glanced over at where the Blight siblings had been training earlier- where Amity’s training wand still lay abandoned in the snow.
(Y/N)’s stomach clenched as the girl quickly tiptoed over, her boots crunching lightly in the snow.
“Ohhh, here we go,” (Y/N) murmured.
Hunter frowned. “What?”
The girl smirked, crouching down and snatching up the wand before Eda could notice. Her fingers curled around the handle as she straightened up, holding it like it was some kind of trophy.
Then, with a spark of excitement in her eyes, she quickly copied the spell circles Eda had been trying to teach her. Before (Y/N) could see if she could actually cast the spell, Hunter jabbed at her slightly with his elbow, making her glance over at him.
“We need to go back and tell Belos,” Hunter said, his voice tense.
(Y/N) snapped her gaze to him. “Are you kidding me?” she whispered harshly. “We just found another human, and your first thought is to run off and tell him?”
Hunter’s jaw tightened. “That’s what we’re supposed to do.”
(Y/N) scoffed. “Right, because Belos totally won’t just lock her up the second he finds out she exists.”
Hunter exhaled sharply through his nose. “You don’t know that.”
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “Yeah? And you do?”
He hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.
(Y/N) shook her head. “Come on, Hunter. You know how he is. You know what he does to people who don’t fit into his perfect little system.” She gestured toward the girl. “She’s human! She’s not even a wild witch! What do you think he’s going to do when he finds out she doesn’t belong?”
Hunter’s grip on his staff tightened. “That’s not our call to make.”
(Y/N) stepped closer, lowering her voice. “So what, we just hand her over? Let Belos decide what happens to her? Just like he decided for us?”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed at her slightly. “That’s different.”
(Y/N)’s heart pounded. “How?”
“Because we chose this!” he hissed. “We trained for this! We earned our place in the Emperor’s Coven! She-” He motioned toward the girl. “-She’s just some random kid who got stuck here!”
(Y/N) crossed her arms. “So was I! So why should we turn her in?”
Hunter groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re being reckless again.”
“And you’re being blind.”
Hunter whipped toward her, his eyes sharp. “I follow the rules, (Y/N)! That’s what keeps us safe!"
(Y/N) opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Hunter grabbed her by the shoulders.
She froze.
His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Desperate. His magenta eyes locked onto hers, his expression taut with something almost pleading.
“We need to go back and tell Belos,” he said, his voice quieter now, but more urgent. “You don’t understand- he… We’ve already done too much.”
(Y/N)’s breath hitched.
She did understand.
Hunter wasn’t the Golden Guard yet, but he was striving for it. He wanted to prove himself, to be someone in Belos’s eyes. And he knew- just as well as she did- that they had already gone too far off course.
If they stayed, if they pushed this any further…
There would be consequences.
For both of them.
(Y/N) felt the tension in Hunter’s grip, the slight tremble in his fingers as he held onto her shoulders. She didn’t need to use her Gem’s abilities to feel the desperation radiating from him- his expression said it all.
He was scared.
He was scared of failing.
Scared of what would happen if they made the wrong call.
(Y/N) swallowed hard, her shoulders slowly relaxing under his grip. She had spent two years by his side, training, fighting, surviving in this world. They had started as rivals, as reluctant partners, but now?
He was the only person in this entire place that she trusted.
Her lips curled into a soft, almost resigned smile. It wasn’t her usual cocky smirk, nor the teasing grin she always threw his way.
It was something real… Something gentle.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “We’ll go back.”
Hunter blinked, surprised at her sudden change of tone. He let go of her shoulders, stepping back slightly, as if unsure whether to believe her.
(Y/N) exhaled through her nose, running a hand through her hair. “You’re right,” she admitted, though it pained her to say it. “We’ve already done too much. If we wait any longer, we’ll get in trouble.” She let out a dry chuckle. “And I really don’t feel like getting locked up today.”
Hunter studied her, searching her face for any sign of deception. But there was none.
(Y/N) meant it.
His shoulders lowered slightly, and he nodded. “Good. We’ll report what we saw. Belos needs to know.”
(Y/N) forced herself not to grimace at that part. She just casted a glance toward the girl again, before nodding slowly.
“Alright, Blondie,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
With one last look at the wild witches in the distance, (Y/N) turned on her heel and followed Hunter back toward the Emperor’s Coven.
The wind whipped past them as Hunter’s staff soared through the sky, cutting through the dark clouds over the Boiling Isles. (Y/N) held on tightly, her mind racing.
She glanced at Hunter, his face set in a determined, almost grim expression. He believed this was the right thing. He had to. This was his whole life, his whole purpose- following orders, proving himself, earning his place.
And, for better or worse, (Y/N) had chosen to stand beside him.
As the castle loomed ahead, its towering white spires gleaming under the pale light, (Y/N) forced down the unease bubbling in her gut. When they entered the throne room, (Y/N) immediately felt the oppressive weight of Belos’s presence settle over her.
He sat on his throne, his golden mask unreadable, his long cloak draped over his form like a shroud. The air was thick with something dark, something wrong.
(Y/N) and Hunter both dropped to one knee.
No matter how much (Y/N) hated bowing to anyone, she knew better than to test Belos’s patience.
Hunter spoke first, his voice steady- though (Y/N) could hear the faint edge of nerves beneath it.
“We scouted the Knee as ordered,” Hunter reported. “We spotted a few witchlings, nothing of concern… but then we saw The Owl Lady.”
At that, Belos tilted his head slightly. “And you did not return immediately?”
Hunter swallowed. “We wanted to be sure-”
That was the wrong answer.
Before (Y/N) could react, a sickly green tendril of dark, corrupted magic shot from Belos’s fingertips, moving too fast.
It slashed across Hunter’s face and neck.
Hunter choked on a breath, his eyes going wide as pain ripped through him. His body instinctively curled inward, one hand shooting up to press against the fresh wound. Blood dripped between his fingers, staining his gloves.
(Y/N) moved without thinking- she was at his side in an instant, her Gem flaring to life, her eyes burning bright pink.
She glared up at Belos, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. She could feel everything- the suffocating darkness in the air, the flicker of pain rolling off of Hunter, the twisted amusement buried deep in Belos’s presence.
This wasn’t a lesson.
It was punishment.
Her voice was sharp, shaking with barely contained rage. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
The room fell into a suffocating silence… Gi didn’t care. She knew she had just crossed a very dangerous line.
But right now?
She didn’t give a damn.
Belos tilted his head slightly, his golden mask betraying nothing. The room still felt suffocating, heavy with his presence.
“This is punishment,” he said calmly, his voice steady, as if explaining something simple to a disobedient child. “For not following orders.”
(Y/N)’s blood boiled, her pink-glowing eyes still locked onto him.
Hunter, still doubled over, sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers pressing against the wound on his cheek and neck. He was trying to keep quiet, trying to stay composed, but (Y/N) could feel his pain like it was her own.
“Next time,” Belos continued, his voice dripping with authority, “maybe you’ll think twice before disobeying.”
(Y/N)’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
But she knew better than to push further… Not now.
Belos flicked his wrist dismissively. “Leave me.”
(Y/N) was already moving- she slid an arm around Hunter’s back, careful but firm, helping him stand as his legs wobbled slightly. He still held one hand against his wound, his breaths shallow but controlled.
They didn’t say a word as they left the throne room, moving through the castle halls in tense, heavy silence.
The Healing Wing of the Emperor’s Coven was quiet when they arrived, dim candlelight flickering in glass lanterns along the walls. It was meant for scouts who got injured during missions- but not for those injured in the throne room.
Still, (Y/N) didn’t hesitate. She carefully led Hunter to one of the cots, easing him down before turning to one of the nearby healers. “He needs help. Now.”
The healer, a middle-aged witch from the Healing Coven, raised an eyebrow but quickly got to work, their hands glowing with soft blue light as they approached Hunter.
(Y/N) took a slow breath, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, trying to breathe past the lingering rage still burning inside her. Hunter just sat there, silent as the healer examined his wound, his magenta eyes staring at the floor.
She hated this.
She hated all of this.
But more than anything- more than the mission, more than the punishment, more than Belos- she hated that Hunter wasn’t surprised… Like he had expected this. Like it had happened before.
(Y/N) clenched her fists, her Gem pulsing faintly.
She wasn’t going to forget this- and she sure as hell wasn’t going to forgive it.
The soft glow of healing magic flickered against the dim candlelight as the healer worked on Hunter’s wound. (Y/N) stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly, watching every movement. The healer’s hands glowed a calming blue, slowly sealing the gash, easing the bleeding, knitting the torn skin back together. But even with magic, some things couldn’t be undone.
When the healer finally stepped back, they sighed. “That’s all I can do. The wound is closed, but the scarring… it’ll stay.”
Hunter barely reacted. He just gave a stiff nod, his jaw tight. (Y/N), however, clenched her fists. She knew that. She knew it wasn’t going to disappear entirely. But hearing it made her stomach twist with anger all over again.
The scar ran from the side of Hunter’s neck, up along his jaw, and across his cheek, ending just below his eye. His skin was still bruised around it, tender from the rawness of fresh healing.
Belos had done this to him.
Their own leader had scarred him just for hesitating.
(Y/N) inhaled sharply through her nose and forced herself to swallow the rage bubbling inside her. Now wasn’t the time. She stepped forward, moving to Hunter’s side. He hadn’t spoken much since they left the throne room.
“Come on, Blondie” she murmured, her voice softer than usual. “Let’s get you back to our room.”
Hunter didn’t argue. He stood, stiff but steady, and let (Y/N) guide him out of the healing wing.
The walk back to their shared quarters was quiet… Too quiet.
(Y/N) glanced at Hunter out of the corner of her eye. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed straight ahead. But she could feel the way his emotions twisted and churned inside him. She wanted to say something. Anything.
But what was she supposed to say? Sorry our boss is a complete psychopath? Sorry this happened to you? Sorry I dragged this out and made things worse?
None of it would fix this… So she said nothing.
When they finally reached their room, she guided him inside and shut the door behind them. Hunter wordlessly sat on his bed, rubbing a gloved hand over his face before resting his elbows on his knees. He exhaled slowly, staring at the floor.
(Y/N) hesitated, then sat beside him, not too close, but close enough. For a long moment, they just sat there in silence.
Then, finally, Hunter spoke. “I shouldn’t have argued,” he muttered. His voice was hoarse, tired. “I should’ve just… obeyed.”
(Y/N)’s eyes flashed. “No.”
Hunter blinked, looking up at her.
(Y/N) turned to him fully, her (E/C) eyes- still faintly pink from lingering emotion- burning with something fierce. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like this is your fault.”
Hunter frowned, his fingers twitching at his sides. “But I-”
“No.” (Y/N) shook her head. “Belos chose to do this. He didn’t have to, Hunter. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Hunter swallowed hard, his gaze dropping again. “Doesn’t change anything.”
(Y/N) exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe not. But it wasn’t your fault.”
She hesitated for a moment, then reached out, gently touching his sleeve, just for a second. A small, silent reassurance… Hunter didn’t pull away. He just sighed and closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping slightly.
She hated seeing him like this.
Carefully, she shifted a little closer, keeping her movements slow, deliberate. Her free hand lifted, hesitating for just a second before cupping the uninjured side of his face.
Hunter stiffened at the contact, his magenta eyes flicking to hers in surprise… But he didn’t pull away. Her thumb brushed against his jaw, slow and soft, a comforting touch rather than anything demanding. She let out a quiet sigh, her Gem glowing faintly in the dim candlelight.
“Hunter,” she murmured.
His throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed, but he stayed quiet.
(Y/N)’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, her voice dropping to something softer, something teasing. “I am sorry, though.”
Hunter frowned. “For what?”
She tilted her head slightly, her smile turning just a little playful. “For dragging this out. For making things harder. But, y’know…” Her thumb brushed along his cheek again. “You still look just as handsome.”
A slow blink.
Hunter’s ears immediately turned pink.
His mouth opened, then shut. Then opened again, as if he was trying to find words but failing miserably. His usual composure, his sharp retorts and perfectly structured logic- gone.
(Y/N) grinned.
There it was...
A small, flickering moment of something other than pain, than duty, than the crushing weight of what had just happened. Just for a second.
She could do more. She could use her Gem, could ease the tension twisting in his chest, could make him feel lighter, could quiet the storm inside of him.
But she wouldn’t.
Because even though she could sense emotions, even though she could manipulate them if she wanted to… That wasn’t her choice to make. Hunter’s emotions, his pain, his feelings- those belonged to him.
So instead, she just let her hand linger, warm and steady, letting him decide what to do next.
After a moment, Hunter finally managed to find his voice. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his face still lightly flushed.
(Y/N) smirked. “And yet, you’re not denying it.”
Hunter groaned, rolling his eyes, but she could feel the shift- the tiniest, smallest change. The weight of the moment didn’t disappear, but it eased, just a little.
A/N: This is the sequel to Ember in the Dark! I really enjoy writing for this fic :}
Loyalty Cuts Deepest pt.1
Silco x Fem!Reader
(Ember in the Dark- prequel) pt.1
Warnings: Violence/Gore, Death/Grief, Trauma, Substance Use, War/Revolution Themes.
Word Count: 6110
Summary: After a failed topside heist, the kids return to The Last Drop bruised and reeking of trouble. (Y/N) and Vander quickly realize something went wrong- an explosion, a chase, and Enforcer heat. They soon learn Piltover is demanding someone take the fall. Vander refuses to give up the kids. Just as Grayson arrives, Silco reemerges- changed, vengeful, and flanked by a monstrous ally. He slaughters the Enforcers, kills Benzo, and takes Vander. When Silco turns to (Y/N), she sees a man both familiar and monstrous. Despite everything, she still loves him- and when he asks her to come, she does. They disappear into the shadows, leaving the shattered remnants of their family behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bar had been alive with its usual hum- clinking glasses, laughter a little too loud, the low rhythm of a deal being whispered between regulars at the corner booth. (Y/N) had fallen into the comfort of routine, her hands quick behind the bar, pouring drinks and trading coin, while Vander worked beside Huck a few steps away, smoothing out a supply deal with his usual half-gruff charm.
It had been a good night.
Until the door creaked open, and the kids walked in.
The smell hit first.
Then the bruises.
Then- Powder’s wide eyes, Vi’s split lip, Mylo’s torn sleeve, and Claggor’s slumped shoulders. They looked like they’d crawled through the Undercity’s rot and back again, covered in grime, bruised and battered- and definitely not just from a run through the Lanes.
(Y/N)’s entire body went still.
Vander looked up, went quiet. She caught his eye, and they both moved without a word- leaving one of the bartenders to manage the bar.
They followed the trail of reek and silence down into the back room.
Before they even reached the door, they could hear the muffled voices- Vi’s sharp whisper, Mylo’s whine, Powder’s soft murmur- and something tight curled in (Y/N)’s gut.
She pushed open the door.
There they were- slouched around the coffee table like the ghosts of their younger selves. Vi in the armchair, sitting tall despite the bruises, her arms crossed over her chest like armor. Powder curled up beside her on the couch, her knees to her chest, eyes fixed on the floor. Mylo and Claggor sat opposite, not quite meeting anyone’s gaze.
(Y/N) didn’t speak.
She turned and grabbed a stack of clean cloths from the shelf and tossed them- one to Vi, one to Mylo, one to Claggor. Her way of saying Start cleaning yourselves up before I lose it.
Vander’s voice broke the silence, low and grim.
“Everyone all right?”
Mylo huffed, eyes anywhere but on them. “Never better.”
Vander hummed, slow and deliberate. “Good.”
He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, his voice cold enough to silence the whole room.
“I don’t suppose you can explain why we’re hearing about an explosion and a foot chase topside. Four children fleeing the scene.”
(Y/N) moved quietly around the room, ignoring the smell, the grime, the tension in the air. She crouched in front of Vi, gently grabbing her chin, tilting her face side to side to check for broken skin or swelling.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked, low and sharp, eyes flicking over the bruises on Vi’s cheek.
Vi rolled her eyes and tried to pull back. “That we can handle a real job?”
Vander’s face hardened instantly.
“A real job?”
Vi straightened, her voice quick now. “We got our own tip. Planned a route. Nobody even saw-”
“You blew up a building,” (Y/N) snapped, grabbing her chin again, giving her a warning look that stopped her cold.
Vi tried to deflect. “That wasn’t-”
“Did you even stop to think,” Vander cut in, “what could’ve happened to you? To them?”
He pointed to each of them, one by one, and they all flinched. Even Mylo stopped pretending to act tough. Vi’s bravado shrank a little, and she looked down, finally letting (Y/N) finish checking her over in silence.
When she was done, (Y/N) moved to Powder, brushing dirt from her temple with gentle fingers. The girl hadn’t said a word yet, just sat curled in on herself, her eyes wide and glassy.
Vander exhaled hard, dragging a hand down his face.
“Where did you even get this tip?”
Silence.
(Y/N) shifted to check Claggor’s arm, noting a deep scrape along his bicep.
Still silence.
Then Powder’s voice came, soft and tired.
“…We just heard it at Benzo’s shop.”
Vander’s brow furrowed. “From?”
“…Little Man,” Powder admitted.
(Y/N) froze just slightly- then closed her eyes and let out a breath, pressing a cloth to Claggor’s arm.
Of course it had been Ekko.
Of course.
Vander muttered a curse under his breath, starting to pace again as the room sat heavy in shame.
(Y/N) didn’t yell. Didn’t need to. She just kept working, her voice calm but cold.
“You’re damn lucky you all made it back,” she said, not looking at any of them. “You’re not invincible. And you’re not ready.”
No one argued.
No one could.
And still, in the back of her mind, a sharp pain echoed through her chest-
We were them once.
And look how that turned out.
The silence in the room following Powder’s confession hung thick- too heavy for the small space, for their small shoulders.
Vander exhaled deeply, weariness settling into his spine like weight he hadn’t shaken in years. He turned to Vi, but she was already standing, her chin tilted up defiantly.
“I took us there,” she said, her voice firm and unflinching. “If you’re gonna be mad, be mad at me. But you’re the one who always says we have to earn our place in the world.”
Vander’s jaw clenched, and he huffed. “I also told you time and time again- the Northside’s off-limits.”
(Y/N), still kneeling by Claggor’s side, looked up, her voice cool. “We stay out of Piltover’s business.”
Vi threw up her hands, talking fast and hot now. “Why? They’ve got plenty, while we’re down here scraping together coins. We’re supposed to just be grateful for scraps?”
She turned her glare to Vander, eyes sharp. “When did you get so comfortable living in someone else’s shadow?”
The words cut through the room like broken glass.
Silence fell.
Even Powder looked up at that, her face unreadable. Mylo’s leg bounced, fast and nervous. Claggor stayed still, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
(Y/N) sighed, slow and heavy, and pushed herself to her feet now that she was sure no one was bleeding out or had a concussion.
She looked at all of them- Vi’s glare, Powder’s clenched hands, Mylo’s sullen posture.
“Right,” she said, with finality. “Everyone out. Come on.”
There was no argument.
They stood, shuffling past her in silence. She guided them out of the room, her hand resting briefly on each shoulder as they passed, quiet reassurance even in her exasperation.
She left Mylo and Claggor in the hallway, watching them both closely for any lingering tension.
Then she followed Powder out the bar's back entrance, lighting a cigarette as the younger girl knelt by one of the bins, digging around with practiced ease.
(Y/N) watched her, blowing out smoke slowly- until Powder paused.
Her hand stilled. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out something small, bright, and unnaturally blue.
A crystal.
It shimmered faintly even in the low light, and for a heartbeat, Powder just stared at it- eyes wide, breath shallow.
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
But Powder flinched, snapping out of it, and shoved the thing deep into her coat like it might vanish if she just willed it hard enough. Then she bolted back inside without a word.
(Y/N) let it go.
For now.
She dropped her cigarette, crushed it under her boot, and followed after her, heart starting to beat a little faster.
Down the hall, just outside the kids’ room, she heard voices again.
Mylo.
“She's a problem.”
Vi’s voice, quiet. “Mylo, I'm really not-”
“Do you remember what was in that bag?” Mylo snapped. “The biggest payout we’ve ever seen. And she lost it.”
(Y/N) froze outside the door, hand hovering near the handle.
Inside, she heard the soft thunk of a ball bouncing against the wall. Mylo caught it. Threw it again.
“She made a mistake,” Vi said defensively.
“Name one time she hasn’t.”
“She’s young.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You were twice the person at half her age.”
A pause.
Then Vi’s voice, lower now. Bitter.
“You know what, Mylo? You’re right. There’s a bunch of things Powder just can’t do.”
Mylo didn’t hesitate. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
The words hit harder than they realized.
Because Powder had heard them, too.
She ran past (Y/N) in the hallway, wiping at her face, shoulders shaking.
(Y/N) didn’t say anything- she just followed, quick and quiet, until she found her in the kids’ room, curled up in her little makeshift fort. The same one she used to sleep in after Felicia died. Nestled between blankets and pillows and broken bits of inventions, trying to lose herself in something that wasn’t this.
(Y/N) slipped inside the fort without hesitation, kneeling and gathering Powder into her arms like she’d done a hundred times before.
Like a mother.
Because she was, in all the ways that mattered.
She didn’t say anything- just held her, stroking her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her head like Felicia used to do, like (Y/N) had once wished someone had done for her.
Eventually, Powder’s trembling eased, though she still clutched at (Y/N)’s coat like she was afraid to let go.
Then footsteps.
Vi.
She stood awkwardly in the doorway, a small frown plain on her face.
(Y/N) pressed one more kiss to Powder’s head, then slowly stood. She passed Vi on the way out and didn’t say anything- just reached up, brushed a thumb across her cheek, and kissed her forehead gently, too.
Then she left them alone.
Sisters.
To mend it on their own.
She made her way out of the bar, walking through the Lanes. The air outside Benzo’s was thick with tension, the kind that curled around your ribs and didn’t let go.
(Y/N) spotted Ekko leaning against the wall just outside, trying to look casual but clearly on edge. His arms were crossed tight, eyes sharp as they scanned the alley like he was expecting someone to come flying around the corner.
She softened at the sight of him- such a little thing, trying so hard to act grown.
She ruffled his hair as she passed. “Hey, little man.”
He gave a small, tired smile, but didn’t say much- just gave her a subtle nod before returning to his watch.
Inside, Benzo’s place smelled like oil and metal and something acrid in the walls that never quite went away. Vander was already talking when she stepped in- low, angry tones, his back half-turned to the door.
Benzo caught her eye and gave a slight nod. “She’s here.”
Vander turned, and just the look on his face made her stomach drop.
“They’re blaming us,” he said without any preamble. “Grayson- she says Piltover needs someone to hang it on.”
(Y/N)’s jaw clenched. “Of course they do.”
“She said it came from higher up,” Vander went on. “One of the councilors. Said they can’t afford to ignore this. So they want blood. Names.”
Her arms crossed slowly. “Let me guess- they want our kids.”
Vander nodded grimly.
“They want someone to take the fall for the explosion. For the theft. For trespassing topside.”
(Y/N) didn’t speak right away. She just stared at him.
She knew about the deal- Vander had brokered it years ago, when they were still clawing their way out of the ruins of the bridge. Keep the Undercity quiet, and Piltover wouldn’t look too closely. Keep things calm, and they’d stay out of the Lanes.
It had always felt like a fragile truce. Like balancing a knife on glass.
And now… it was breaking.
“They think you’ll hand over the kids,” she said, flatly.
Vander’s eyes burned. “I won’t.”
Benzo didn’t interrupt. He just watched as Vander pulled a small device from his coat- a metal piece that could be sent topside.
Vander nodded toward it. “Grayson gave the signal. She’s waiting for an answer.”
(Y/N) stared at it, then nodded once.
“We tell her no,” she said. “And we watch everything.”
They made their way back to the bar.
The kids had already scattered down into the arcade on (Y/N)’s word- somewhere out of sight, somewhere quiet. Somewhere that used to be theirs when they were younger, running from the world before the weight of it caught up.
Inside The Last Drop, the mood had shifted.
The usual warmth was still there, but the edges were fraying. People were tense. Voices were low. There were more eyes on the door than there were on drinks.
(Y/N) took her spot behind the bar. Vander leaned against the far end, scanning the crowd, quiet.
They didn’t talk much. Just kept their ears open.
Hours passed like that.
And then-
The kids came back.
One by one, they filed in through the side hallway, muddy boots scuffing softly on the wood. They didn’t say anything, didn’t cause a scene. Just… lingered.
Near the back. Close enough to (Y/N) and Vander to be protected, but not so close they’d be noticed.
Smart kids.
They’d learned to move like shadows.
And for now, that was exactly what they needed to be.
The tension in The Last Drop had become thick enough to choke on. Whispers had turned to murmurs. Murmurs into open frustration. And when Sevika stood from her booth, drink in hand, there was no mistaking the shift in the room.
“We should hit them back,” she said, her voice cutting clean through the chatter. “We’ve got the numbers to best them.”
(Y/N), standing behind the bar with her hands gripping a towel a little too tightly, said nothing. But her chest stirred with reluctant agreement.
She knew Sevika was right.
But she also knew what happened the last time they 'had the numbers.'
So she stayed quiet.
Because following Vander’s lead- whether it sat right or not- was the only thing that had kept the Undercity from burning again.
Vander raised his voice calmly but firmly, pushing off from where he leaned.
“You sure that’s what you want?” he asked, stepping forward slowly. “We crossed that bridge before. And we all know how that ended.”
(Y/N) tensed. She didn’t move, didn’t speak- but the weight of his words hit her like a hammer to the ribs.
Felicia’s hands, cold and bloodied in hers.
Connol’s still body on the ground.
The last time she saw Silco.
She said nothing. Just lit a cigarette and looked away.
Someone else, half-drunk and bitter, chimed in from near the door. “You’re just protecting your kids.”
(Y/N)’s eyes snapped over her shoulder- straight to the back corner, where the kids stood, lingering. They’d kept quiet, kept out of sight, but they were still watching.
Still listening.
Vander didn’t rise to the bait. He stepped in calmly, the firm voice of a man who had earned this room.
“I’m protecting our people,” he said. “I’d do the same for any one of you. We look out for each other. That’s the way it’s always been.”
(Y/N) exhaled slowly, smoke curling from her lips.
“This’ll blow over,” she added, tone even. “We just need to stand together.”
Sevika scoffed, ignoring her entirely. Her eyes were locked on Vander.
“The Vander I knew- the one who built the Undercity- he wouldn’t be afraid to fight.”
The bar hushed again.
Vander stepped toward her slowly, unflinching, until they stood toe-to-toe. He stared her down.
“Do I look afraid?”
Without hesitation, Sevika fired back: “No. You look weak.”
Then she let out a sharp whistle.
Her crew stood up in unison- shoulders squared, weapons at their hips- and one by one, they filed out the bar behind her, Sevika last.
(Y/N) didn’t stop them.
Neither did Vander.
Silence returned.
The kids- still watching- retreated down the hallway toward their room. Not a word. Just quiet understanding.
(Y/N) let out a long sigh and lit another cigarette, taking a slow drag as she leaned against the bar.
Then the door opened again.
Three Enforcers entered.
Not the usual grunts. Higher rank. Clean boots. One of them, Marcus, stepped ahead of the others like he already owned the place.
(Y/N) straightened, flicking her ash but saying nothing.
“We’re looking for some kids,” Marcus said, eyes scanning the room.
Vander didn’t miss a beat. “Bar’s full of ‘em,” he replied casually. “Best be specific.”
As the Enforcers started walking, poking through corners and checking under tables, Vander moved behind the bar. He grabbed a bottle, uncorked it, and offered, “How ‘bout a drink, eh?”
As he poured, his fingers dipped under the counter- click. The emergency switch. A signal to the kids below.
Hide. Now.
Then, Marcus dropped a line that made (Y/N)’s head whip around in alarm.
“Ran into an old friend of yours,” he said to Vander. “Had some stories.”
The bar went still.
Marcus stepped forward and took Vander’s pipe right out of his hand, rolling it between his fingers.
(Y/N)’s body tensed. So did half the bar.
Vander gave a subtle shake of his head- don’t.
Marcus smirked. “You weren’t always the peacekeeper, were you?”
Then, without flinching, he dropped the pipe into the liquor glass. It caught fire instantly.
Flames crackled in the silence.
Vander’s jaw flexed, but his voice stayed even.
“Yeah, well… you can’t escape the past, right?”
He lifted his eyes slowly- toward the wall above the bar.
Toward the gauntlets mounted high.
The ones he hadn’t touched since that night.
“Be a shame if I had to put ’em on again,” he said, voice low. “Cast irons… well. They’re hard to clean.”
The fire between them flickered. The room held its breath.
And every single person in The Last Drop remembered exactly who Vander used to be.
The search didn’t last long. The Enforcers poked through the bar, lifting up old crates, checking behind curtains, pulling up floor panels that had already been repaired twice over. (Y/N) didn’t flinch. Neither did Vander.
Eventually, the other two returned to Marcus.
“All clear.”
Marcus rolled his eyes with a scoff, lips curling into something sharp and cruel. Vander raised an eyebrow, half a shrug in response.
But Marcus wasn’t done.
“You people down here are all the same,” he sneered, turning to face the bar. “Mistaking arrogance for bravery. You think you're standing up for something, but we all know there’s a crime behind every coin that passes through this place.”
He turned to face Vander, stepping in closer, voice dropping low enough to be lethal.
“You’re just a small man in a little hole the world forgot to bury.”
And then, just to twist the knife-
Marcus lifted his baton and slammed it down onto the burning glass of liquor, shattering it across the counter. Fire spilled over the wood, licking up the side of a bottle rack.
“And I’m gonna bury the lot of you.”
Then he turned, shoved through the crowd of tense patrons, and left with his officers in tow, boots echoing against the stone.
The door slammed.
Silence followed.
(Y/N) didn’t waste time. She grabbed a nearby cloth, slammed it over the fire, smothering the flames until the last of the smoke curled up and vanished into the ceiling vents.
Vander stood there, unmoving, jaw locked tight, eyes still on the door. That line had cut, but he wasn’t about to show it.
Once they were sure the Enforcers were gone, the two of them quietly made their way down to the kids’ room. The tension clung to their shoulders as they descended the stairs.
The kids were all there, huddled and tense. Powder had her hands fisted into her sleeves, trying not to shake. Claggor sat stiffly, while Mylo bounced his leg, eyes darting to every sound.
(Y/N) glanced around, making sure no one was more hurt than they already were. “Are you all okay..?”
Vi was the first to speak.
“No, we’re not okay. They almost saw Powder.” Her voice cracked, furious and terrified all at once. “What if they took her?”
Vander stepped forward quickly, firm but calm. “No one is taking any of you.”
(Y/N) nodded, kneeling beside them. “We would never let that happen. Not to any of you.”
But Vi wasn’t comforted. She threw her arm out, motioning toward the others, her voice rising.
“It’s already happening! You heard him- he’s not gonna stop. They’re gonna keep coming. So we need to fight back. And if you two won’t-” her eyes flicked between Vander and (Y/N), “-then I will.”
(Y/N)’s chest went tight.
It reminded her too much of another voice, another pair of burning eyes once full of conviction.
Silco.
Vander heard it too.
His voice was quiet, but laced with weight. “I’ve heard this kind of talk before...”
He gave (Y/N) a look- a heavy one- before gently placing a hand on Vi’s shoulder and guiding her toward the exit.
“Come with me.”
(Y/N) didn’t stop him. Just watched as they disappeared up the stairs, Vi’s shoulders squared with defiance, Vander silent and steady at her side.
She stayed behind with the others, crouching down beside Powder and gently wrapping her in her arms, murmuring softly to calm her trembling hands.
The kids needed someone to stay.
And she always would.
She stayed downstairs with the kids for a long while after Vi left with Vander- running a hand through Powder’s hair, checking Claggor’s bruises, pressing a damp cloth to the scrape across Mylo’s temple. No one said much. They didn’t need to. The air was heavy with all that almost happened.
Eventually, Vi returned. Quiet, but calmer. She nodded to (Y/N), the unspoken signal that she was okay now- enough, at least.
(Y/N) gave her a gentle touch on the shoulder, then stood, smoothing her palms against her thighs as she made her way back upstairs.
The bar was quieter now, most of the patrons long gone after the Enforcers had stormed out. Only a few lingered in corners, keeping their voices down, casting side-glances toward the bar where Vander stood alone.
He didn’t look at her as she approached. Just held up a half-crushed pack of cigarettes, and she took one wordlessly.
They lit up together, just like they used to.
Back before everything fell apart.
Before the bridge.
Before Silco disappeared.
Before Felicia and Connol never came home.
She sat beside him, leaning against the counter, breathing in the smoke.
They didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Then Vander spoke, his voice quieter than she’d ever heard it.
“I’m going to turn myself in.”
The words struck like stone in her gut. She stared at him, cigarette paused halfway to her lips.
“If it gets them off the kids- if it keeps them safe- it’s worth it.”
Her chest tightened, and she felt the burn of tears she refused to let fall. Vander didn’t flinch. He just reached over and pulled her into a hug- tight, grounding, familiar.
“Promise me,” he murmured into her hair. “If I’m gone... you’ll look after them.”
“You know I will,” she whispered, voice shaking.
But before she could pull back, before the weight of goodbye could fully land-
Vander exhaled, slow and bitter.
“There’s something else.”
She stilled.
And then he told her.
What happened the night of the bridge.
How he and Silco had fought after the battle.
How Vander had overpowered him. Dragged him to the river. Held him under.
Cut his face.
Watched the man he’d once called brother claw his way from the edge, stealing Vander’s own blade before vanishing into the darkness.
“I thought he was dead,” Vander said, quietly. “For a while, I hoped he was.”
(Y/N) stepped back, her cigarette trembling in her hand.
“You tried to kill him?” Her voice was soft, but full of a furious disbelief. “You let me think he was gone. You watched me mourn him, and you knew.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Her jaw clenched, eyes burning. “You didn’t even try.”
He saw it then. The look of hate on her face. Like she didn’t recognize him anymore.
And maybe, for the first time in years- she didn’t.
Vander turned away, jaw tight, reaching beneath the bar for the signal Grayson had left. He figured now was as good a time as any.
But then the stairs creaked.
They both turned.
Powder stood there at the base of the stairwell, her eyes red-rimmed and sad, fingers curled into the hem of her oversized sweater.
Vander hesitated. Slowly straightened.
“…Want something to drink?” he asked, reaching for a bottle and grabbing a small glass- something sweet, the same kind of juice Felicia used to like.
She nodded, sliding onto the stool as Vander poured it and gently nudged it her way. “Cheer up, eh?”
But (Y/N) hadn’t taken her eyes off her.
Not until she saw it- nestled against Powder’s side, sticking out of her bag slightly.
The bunny.
Vi’s old stuffed bunny.
The one Felicia had given her. Years ago.
The one Vi hadn’t touched in ages.
Vander saw it too.
His body went rigid.
“…Powder,” he said, carefully. “Where did you get that?”
But she didn’t answer. Just looked down.
Vander reached under the bar for the signal.
His hand patted around.
And his face dropped.
“…It’s gone.”
They moved fast.
The second (Y/N) realized the signal was missing, her cigarette hit the floor, half-smoked and forgotten. She met Vander’s eyes- no words needed- and they were out the door before Powder could even ask what was wrong.
Benzo was just locking up his shop when they caught him.
“We need you,” Vander said sharply, grabbing the old man’s arm.
Benzo didn’t ask why. He saw their faces and followed without hesitation.
They ran through the alleys, cutting corners and weaving past the confused late-night crowd, boots echoing over cobblestone. (Y/N)’s heart pounded, every step fueled by a sick dread deep in her gut.
She’s going to turn herself in.
Vi already sent the signal.
We’re too late.
They reached the safehouse tucked just outside the Lanes, its rusted door creaking slightly under pressure. Vander pushed it open, and there she was.
Vi stood near the center of the room, her hands wringing nervously. She looked surprised when she saw them, her brow furrowing.
“Why are you-”
“We don’t have much time,” Vander cut in, stepping forward, already out of breath.
Vi blinked. “How did you find me?”
But Vander didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her, grounding them both.
“I’m proud of you,” he said. “We all are. Always have been.”
Vi leaned into his touch, confused, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, I… I thought this was the only way to protect the others.”
While they spoke, (Y/N) and Benzo had moved toward the front window, keeping low. She whistled sharply when she spotted movement outside- dark figures, uniforms, the glint of polished boots catching the faint streetlight.
Benzo’s head snapped toward Vander. “Vander…”
But he was already moving.
He cupped Vi’s face in his hands, eyes locked with hers.
“You’ve got a good heart,” he murmured. “Don’t ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you. You and (Y/N)… protect the family.”
“What are you-?”
Then Vander shoved her.
Quick. Rough. Out of nowhere.
Vi yelped as she stumbled backward- falling into the room behind her. Before she could get up, before she could reach for the edge, Vander slammed the door shut and twisted the lock.
Vi pounded on the wood.
“No- Vander!”
But it was too late.
She was safe.
And they would face what came next without her.
The banging hadn’t stopped since Vander locked the door- Vi’s muffled voice yelling his name, fists slamming against the wood from behind. It was the sound of desperation. Of betrayal. Of family being torn apart.
(Y/N)’s heart clenched with every hit.
Then the door to the safehouse opened.
Grayson entered first, calm and composed as always. Her eyes swept the room- landed on the sound coming from beheinde them- and she sighed softly.
“I’m guessing that’s for me.”
Before Marcus could take a single step forward, (Y/N) moved- planting herself in front of the door, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Marcus scowled and stepped forward anyway, only to find Vander stepping in front of him, blocking his path.
“You gonna let us make the arrest or not?” Marcus snapped, already gripping his baton.
Vander raised a hand, voice steady. “You’ll oblige a doomed man one last smoke…”
Before the sheriff could reply, (Y/N) already had a cigarette in her fingers, flicked it to life with a spark of a lighter, and placed it gently between Vander’s lips. Her hands trembled slightly, but she didn’t pull away.
Even now… even after what he’d confessed…
He was family.
He had always been family.
Vander took a long drag, the smoke curling slowly from his lips as he exhaled, voice low and rough.
“Won’t you?”
But before Marcus could lunge again, Grayson moved- swiftly stepping in, shoving Marcus aside without even blinking.
“I’m not putting you away, Vander,” she said, looking up at him, her voice tired but sincere.
Vander’s lips twitched in something close to a smile. “The council needs its pound of flesh.”
“Without you down here,” she countered, “it all falls apart.”
Vander shook his head, smoke trailing from his mouth as he gestured toward the others. “Benzo and (Y/N) will handle things. Might not have my devilish charm, but they run a tight ship.”
Grayson’s expression darkened, just slightly. “You won’t be coming back. Not for a long time.”
Vander took one last drag of the cigarette before pressing the cherry into the floor and crushing it under his boot.
Then he held out his wrists to Marcus.
“…I know.”
Grayson looked at him one last time. “Why?”
Vander’s eyes didn’t leave hers.
“It’s the only way.”
Marcus stepped forward, grabbing Vander roughly and binding his wrists. Vander didn’t fight it.
(Y/N) stood frozen as they turned to leave, the air thick with something that felt like grief- but not quite.
She looked back- just once- at the door behind her. She could still hear Vi banging, yelling. Her voice muffled by wood and fate.
And then, with a heavy heart, she followed them out.
The night air outside the safehouse was sharp, unnervingly still. (Y/N)'s boots hit the stone with practiced calm, her eyes scanning the shadows, instinct prickling at the back of her neck.
Something felt wrong.
Then- a blur.
Faster than any of them could react.
A sound like a blade slicing through the air.
And in one sickening swoop, Enforcers dropped like puppets with cut strings- blood spraying across the cobblestones. Limbs twisted. Armor crumpled. The sheriff was the last to fall, her body collapsing with a weighty thud, lifeless eyes staring at the stars.
(Y/N) froze. Vander cursed, stepping back instinctively, placing himself between her and the carnage.
Vander muttered, “What the devil…”
Marcus stumbled back, panic on his face, reaching for a weapon he barely knew how to use.
Benzo was quicker. He snatched up a pipe from the blood-slicked ground, holding it steady in both hands, old soldier instincts kicking in. “Stay close,” he muttered to (Y/N), voice taut.
But (Y/N) wasn’t hiding anymore.
The grief. The rage. The betrayal. It had been simmering under her skin for years- and now, with the taste of death in the air and the weight of fate hanging heavy, she let it burn.
Her hands lit with flame.
Her magic surged, raw and electric, glowing through the veins in her fingers like wildfire. Her eyes blazed with power, bright and defiant, reflecting the fire pooling at her fingertips.
No more hiding.
Vander stepped forward slowly- his eyes locked on something just beyond the smoke and ruin.
And then his face fell.
“…No,” he breathed.
(Y/N) turned, eyes narrowing, senses sharp.
And then she saw it too.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows. Cloaked in smoke, half-silhouetted by the flickering light of burning lamplight. His shoulders were broad. His coat was unfamiliar. But one eye- one eye- glowed an unnatural, searing orange, burning like a dying star.
She didn’t recognize him at first.
Not until Benzo let out a hoarse, broken whisper beside her.
“…Silco?”
The name struck her like lightning.
Her flames faltered for the briefest moment.
That thing- that man standing before them, drenched in shadow and ruin- was Silco.
Her Silco.
But something was wrong.
Something had changed.
And whatever had crawled out of the river that night wasn’t the man who had once held her like she was everything in the world.
But it was him.
And her heart cracked open at the sight.
Benzo was the first to move.
He let out a sharp cry, his pipe raised high as he charged forward- anger flashing in his eyes. “You animal!” he shouted. “Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of!”
The moment cracked.
Out of instinct- old, ingrained instinct- (Y/N) almost stepped in front of Silco.
Her body remembered before. Before the fire, before the hatred, before the bridge.
Before the man she loved had disappeared beneath the surface.
“Benzo, stay back!” Vander yelled, already lunging forward, hand outstretched.
But it was too late.
Silco tilted his head slightly, his eye never leaving (Y/N). His voice came low, almost amused. “You never did know when to walk away… Benzo.”
And then it happened.
A whip of movement- barely visible, a blur of sinew and shadow- and the creature returned.
The same unnatural beast that had slaughtered the Enforcers moved again, and in the span of a breath, Benzo was gone.
His body hit the ground hard, unmoving.
(Y/N) froze.
Her magic flickered.
Her gaze locked on Benzo’s lifeless frame.
A strangled sound escaped Vander’s throat as he fell to his knees. “No!”
He scrambled toward his old friend, grief crashing through him like a wave.
Silco stood over it all, watching.
His voice was quieter now, maybe even tired. “Stubborn till the end…”
Marcus, pale and shaken, stepped forward slowly, breath ragged. “What the hell have you done? This- this wasn’t the deal!”
Silco turned his head toward him, one hand still clasped neatly behind his back. He walked slowly, deliberately, like the world around him hadn’t just shifted on its axis.
“Deal’s changed,” he said calmly, before tossing a pouch of gold at Marcus’s feet.
It hit the ground with a heavy clink, blood flecking the edge.
Marcus stared at it. But said nothing.
(Y/N) hadn’t moved.
She couldn’t.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Benzo.
Not until she felt him approaching.
Silco’s footsteps were soft, measured, until he stood in front of her. The creature behind him moved toward Vander- without a word- and slammed its fist into the side of Vander’s head. The crack of impact echoed in the alley as Vander slumped unconscious.
(Y/N) twitched, but didn’t react.
She couldn’t.
The monster picked Vander up like a ragdoll and disappeared into the shadows.
Silco… stayed.
He turned his full attention to her.
And for the first time in nearly a decade, she looked into both of his eyes.
One glowing bright, unnatural orange.
And one still the same soft, piercing blue she remembered falling in love with.
Even now, with everything burning around them, with blood still warm on the ground, with her magic humming violently at her fingertips-
Her heart ached.
Still.
Silco reached up, slowly, fingers brushing her chin.
His touch was gentle. Too gentle.
“Did you know?” he asked, voice low. Measured.
“…D… Did I know?”
“Of what happened between Vander and I.”
She swallowed hard.
“…Not… until today.”
Silco’s face barely moved, but something behind his eyes flickered—pain, maybe. Memory.
“I don’t wish to hurt you,” he said, quietly. “But you have to come with me.”
(Y/N) didn’t know what she was doing when she nodded.
Her thoughts were gone- ripped out like a tide.
All she could feel was the burn in her chest, the roaring silence in her mind.
She nodded again, slower this time.
And Silco, seeing her surrender, nodded in return.
Then, without a word, he reached down, took her hand into his-
And led her away.
Away from the blood.
Away from the flame.
Away from the person she had become in his absence.
Marcus watched them disappear into the shadows.
And said nothing.
YAYYY thanks for Kyoko/Celeste/Toko request it was awesome (the inclusion of Jack caught me off guard since I personally don't find her attractive but idm!!! /Gen I should've been more specific whoopsie haha!) very well written, I enjoyed it alot!
Ps. Unfortunately an infamous ableist, homophobic, fatphobic (amongst other awful things) user liked that post :( if you wanted to block them or not M/ommy/hon/da (without the slashes, they search their name up for people talking about them hence the censoring
Oh, my bad about the Jack inclusion! I hope it was okay nonetheless! And yes, I noticed that user, and I already promptly blocked them :}
Thank you for the warning. If you have any more requests, feel free to make them. I'll try to keep it strictly to the characters asked from now on. I consider Jack/Toko sorta the same person (or ya know, two people sharing the same body), which is the only reason why I added them lmao.
Drifting Between Worlds pt.2
Hunter x Fem!Reader
pt.1
Warnings: Emotional Abuse/Psychological Manipulation, Panic Attack/Anxiety, Helplessness/Powerlessness, Capital Punishment, Gaslighting.
Word Count: 5579
Summary: After a quiet moment, (Y/N) tends to Hunter’s scar, showing the deep bond they’ve built over two years of protecting each other. That night, Hunter has a panic attack from memories of Belos’s abuse, and (Y/N) comforts him. Their peace ends with a summons from Belos. Hunter is promoted to Golden Guard, and (Y/N) becomes his Onyx- his personal shadow. Framed as a reward, it’s clearly a way to control them. Their mission: observe Lilith’s attempt to capture Eda and monitor a human girl named Luz. During a student tour, (Y/N) notices Luz sneaking off and convinces Hunter to follow instead of reporting her. They witness Lilith capture Luz. Eda storms the castle to save her, losing her magic in the process and getting captured. Kiki announces her public petrification, leaving (Y/N) and Hunter silently preparing to witness the execution- torn between duty and conscience.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After their little moment, (Y/N) finally pulled her hand away from Hunter’s face, letting the warmth of her touch settle before shifting gears.
“Alright, Blondie,” she murmured, standing up. “Let’s get that scar taken care of before it starts bothering you.”
Hunter sighed, tilting his head back slightly. “The healer already did what she could.”
“Yeah, well, I’m doing the rest.” She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you want it to linger.”
Hunter rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.
(Y/N) walked over to the small wooden shelf near their beds, where she kept a few things she had put together over the years- small remedies, basic salves, things she had learned to mix from trial and error, using ingredients she recognized were similar to ones she had in the Human Realm.
She grabbed a small container, then sat back down beside Hunter.
“Hold still,” she muttered.
He huffed but complied, letting her tilt his head slightly to the side so she could work.
The scar was still fresh, the skin bruised and sensitive. Her fingers were steady as she scooped a bit of the ointment onto her fingertips, rubbing it between them to warm it slightly before gently pressing it along the wound.
Hunter tensed at first but didn’t pull away.
“This should help keep it from getting too irritated,” she murmured, focused on her work. “Might help with the scarring too. No promises, though. You might just have to get used to being even more dashing.”
Hunter let out a breath that was almost a chuckle.
She carefully wrapped the bandages around his neck and jaw, making sure they weren’t too tight. When she was satisfied, she tied them off, brushing her hands against her pants as she sat back.
“There.” She smirked. “Good as new. Well... Mostly.”
Hunter lifted a hand, brushing his fingers along the bandage. “…Thanks.”
(Y/N) just shrugged. “Anytime.”
And she meant it.
The weight of the day lingered as (Y/N) and Hunter moved around their room, slipping into their usual nighttime routines. It was almost second nature now- after two years of sharing a space, they had fallen into a rhythm, a quiet understanding of how to exist around each other.
They had made deals early on, back when they first got assigned the same quarters, to avoid unnecessary arguments.
One of the first was changing.
(Y/N), being who she was, had quickly realized that Hunter was the type to get flustered over things like that. And since she wasn’t about to have either of them dealing with awkwardness on a daily basis, she had made a solution.
A makeshift divider.
It wasn’t fancy- just a simple wooden frame she had thrown together with cloth draped over it- but it worked. One side for her, one side for him.
She had always liked making things. Little tools, useful items, balms, salves- things that kept her hands busy, things that kept her mind busy.
It gave her something to control in a world that often felt completely out of her control.
Hunter, for his part, had never complained. He was practical like that.
(Y/N) stepped behind the divider first, tugging her scout uniform off and slipping into something more comfortable- a loose-fitting black shirt and soft pants, simple but effective.
When she finished, she called over. “Alright, Blondie. All yours.”
Hunter let out a quiet breath, stepping past her to take his turn. (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, sitting cross-legged on her bed, idly tracing the mark on her wrist.
The sigil still felt like nothing to her.
No pain. No restriction.
Belos had wanted to brand her, control her the way he did witches, but it had never worked the way he intended.
She never let on how much that bothered her- she just shook the thought away.
Hunter emerged from behind the divider, dressed in his own sleepwear- a simple tunic and loose pants, nothing out of the ordinary. He ran a hand through his blond hair, sighing as he sat on his bed.
They didn’t talk much after that.
They didn’t need to.
Some nights, after long missions or hard days, they just… existed in the same space, letting the silence settle in.
It was a comfortable kind of quiet.
(Y/N) leaned back against her pillows, watching as Hunter pulled the blanket over himself.
“Get some sleep, Blondie,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual.
Hunter let out a small huff. “Yeah. You too.”
She closed her eyes, her gem humming faintly as she finally let herself relax.
(Y/N) had just started to drift off when Hunter’s voice cut through the quiet, barely more than a whisper.
“Do you think he hates me?”
Her eyes opened.
Hunter’s voice was strained, uncertain.
“Is that why he hurts me?”
(Y/N) didn’t move- she just listened.
“I’m supposed to be the only family he has left… He’s the only family I have left…” Hunter’s voice wavered. He wasn’t even talking to her anymore. He was just talking, letting his thoughts spill out into the darkness.
“I get that he wants me to be strong… that he expects a lot from me. He says the Titan has plans for me. That I’m special.”
A sharp inhale.
“…If I’m special, what’s the point in hurting me?”
(Y/N) sat up immediately.
She didn’t need her Gem’s abilities to know what was happening.
Hunter’s breaths were too quick, too shallow. His body was locked up, stiff under his blankets, his hands gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His chest rose and fell in uneven, jerky motions.
Panic attack.
Did he even realize?
(Y/N) wasted no time.
She slipped out of her bed and padded across the room. As soon as she reached his bedside, Hunter tensed.
He wasn’t used to being touched when he was like this.
But (Y/N) didn’t care.
She climbed onto his bed without hesitation, slipping under the blanket beside him. She didn’t wait for permission- he wouldn’t have given it anyway. Instead, she reached out and pulled him close, her arms wrapping around him securely.
Hunter froze.
His whole body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat, but (Y/N) just tightened her grip.
“Shhh,” she murmured, her voice warm, soft.
Her gem glowed faintly, sending out the lightest, gentlest pulse of energy- not to control his emotions, not to force him to calm down, but to soothe him. To ease the raw edges, to remind his body that he was safe.
She felt him trembling, the panic still clawing at him, his mind racing in loops he couldn’t break on his own.
She ran a hand over his back, slow, steady, grounding him with touch. “Breathe with me, Hunter,” she cooed, voice low. “Just focus on me, okay?”
A shaky inhale.
A slightly steadier exhale.
Her fingers brushed through his hair, her gem pulsing softly again. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, pressing her forehead lightly against his. “I’ve got you.”
Hunter’s breath hitched.
And then, finally…
He moved.
His shaking hands hesitantly, tentatively, gripped the fabric of her sleeve. His body relaxed just slightly against hers, like he was allowing himself, for just one moment, to be held.
(Y/N) didn’t let go.
She wasn’t going anywhere…
As (Y/N) held him close, steady and unwavering, Hunter slowly came back down from his panic. Her fingers combed through his hair, gentle and rhythmic, while her other hand rubbed slow, soothing circles against his back. His breathing was still shaky at first, but with every careful stroke, every quiet whisper of reassurance, it evened out little by little.
Hunter hesitated for a long while, his body stiff, uncertain- like he didn’t know how to accept comfort, like he was waiting for her to pull away.
But she didn’t.
She just kept holding him, humming softly under her breath, letting her gem’s faint glow fill the silence with warmth.
Eventually, after what felt like forever, he let out a breath and did something that nearly broke her heart.
He nuzzled into her shoulder.
It was hesitant, barely there, like he was testing whether or not he was allowed to.
(Y/N) didn’t say a word.
She just held him closer.
Time blurred together.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, tangled in the quiet safety of each other’s presence.
But, at some point, Hunter’s breathing evened out completely. The tension in his body melted away, his fingers loosening their grip on her sleeve.
And, finally, he slept.
(Y/N) sighed softly, resting her chin atop his head, her own exhaustion creeping in now that she knew he was okay.
She had no idea what tomorrow would bring.
But for now, in this moment, she wasn’t going anywhere.
And with that thought, she let herself drift off, still holding him close.
Morning came slowly, the soft glow of the rising sun filtering through the small cracks in their room’s curtains. The usual coldness of the Emperor’s castle didn’t seem as sharp this morning- not when warmth surrounded them.
(Y/N) stirred first, her mind sluggish as she registered the unfamiliar but comfortable weight against her.
Hunter.
They were still tangled together, arms wrapped around each other, legs slightly overlapping. At some point in the night, they had curled closer, holding onto each other in their sleep without even realizing it.
It was the best sleep (Y/N) had gotten since arriving in the Boiling Isles.
And for Hunter… maybe the best sleep he had ever had.
For a moment, she didn’t move. She just lay there, letting the quiet settle, feeling how calm everything was.
But then, Hunter shifted, his breathing changing slightly as he woke.
She could feel the exact moment he realized what had happened.
His whole body went rigid.
(Y/N) smirked before even opening her eyes.
A sharp inhale. A stiffening of shoulders. And then-
A soft, strangled noise of pure mortification.
She cracked one eye open to see him completely frozen, his magenta eyes wide and filled with panic. His face was already turning a deep shade of red, his ears burning as he registered the fact that they were still holding onto each other.
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, her voice still thick with sleep.
“…Morning, Blondie.”
Hunter flinched.
His brain seemed to shut down for a second before he made a choked, stammering attempt at a response.
“I- uh- what- this- WHY-”
(Y/N) couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“Relax,” she teased, stretching slightly but making no effort to move away. “We just fell asleep. No big deal.”
Hunter opened his mouth, closed it, then covered his face with both hands, groaning. “This is a big deal!”
(Y/N) grinned. “Oh? Why?”
Hunter made a noise.
(Y/N) just shrugged, patting his back lazily. “Hey, at least you slept well.”
That made him pause.
He lowered his hands slightly, blinking at her.
“…Yeah,” he admitted after a long beat, his voice quieter. “I did.”
(Y/N) softened, her teasing smirk fading into something more genuine. “Me too.”
Hunter looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “W-We should probably… um… get up.”
(Y/N) hummed, still smirking. “You sure? You seem pretty comfy.”
Hunter let out an exasperated groan, shoving his pillow over his face.
(Y/N) just laughed, finally rolling off the bed and stretching with a satisfied sigh.
Yep.
Best sleep she’d had in years.
(Y/N) and Hunter moved through their usual morning routine, getting dressed in their scout uniforms. Despite the way the morning had started- warm, soft, and not entirely unpleasant- they both settled back into their usual rhythm.
Hunter, as always, was methodical about getting ready. Every strap adjusted, every piece of armor aligned perfectly. (Y/N), on the other hand, was a little more relaxed, rolling her shoulders as she buckled her gloves into place.
But before they could leave their room, a sharp knock echoed through the wooden door.
(Y/N) shot Hunter a look before striding over and pulling the door open.
A scout stood at attention, their mask in place, stiff and formal. "You are both requested in the throne room. Immediately."
Hunter straightened beside her, his shoulders tightening. (Y/N) just exhaled through her nose, giving the scout a mock salute. "Oh joy. More quality time with our beloved Emperor."
The scout didn't react, simply stepping aside to let them pass.
The throne room was as cold and imposing as ever.
Belos sat on his high throne, draped in white, his golden mask revealing nothing, like usual. The moment they entered, both Hunter and (Y/N) immediately dropped to one knee- though (Y/N) did so with just a little less enthusiasm.
Belos didn’t acknowledge them right away, letting the weight of his presence settle before finally speaking.
"I have gathered you here because new information has come to my attention."
Hunter remained stiff, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. (Y/N), on the other hand, kept her face neutral but felt the tension radiating off of him.
Belos continued.
"I have confirmed the existence of the human girl. She resides in Bonesborough, under the watch of The Owl Lady."
(Y/N) swallowed hard. There it is.
She knew Belos would find out sooner or later, but hearing him say it made her gut twist.
"As you are aware," Belos said smoothly, "I had sent Lilith to retrieve Eda."
(Y/N)'s mind raced. Lilith Clawthorne. Head of the Emperor's Coven. Eda's sister.
But Belos’s next words sent a cold chill through her spine.
"She has been... lacking."
Hunter’s fingers twitched at his sides.
Belos’s voice remained calm. Too calm.
"That is why I have decided to ensure loyalty where it is most needed."
(Y/N) didn’t like where this was going.
Belos finally turned his gaze to Hunter. "You will be promoted."
Hunter stiffened. "Promoted..?"
"You will become the Golden Guard," Belos said. "A position of authority and privilege, answering only to me. You will command the scouts, oversee operations, and ensure that the Emperor’s will is carried out."
(Y/N)'s breath caught.
She knew Hunter had always strived for this- had pushed himself harder than anyone else, desperate to prove himself.
But something about this felt wrong.
Belos wasn't rewarding Hunter.
He was tightening his leash.
"And as for you," Belos said, finally turning to (Y/N). "You will be assigned as his Onyx."
(Y/N)’s stomach dropped.
The title hit her like a slap, the weight of her own identity twisted into something else.
Onyx. Her Gem, her heritage, a title meant for leaders- for warriors who protected, who stood at the front lines, not at the beck and call of some Emperor.
And yet, Belos was turning it against her.
"You will remain at the Golden Guard’s side at all times," Belos continued. "You will be his personal guard, his enforcer, his shadow. And in this, you will prove your loyalty to me."
(Y/N) felt sick.
This wasn’t a promotion.
It was a collar.
Belos didn’t trust anyone- not Lilith, not his own coven heads.
But now, with this? He was making sure that if Lilith ever did betray him, Hunter and (Y/N) wouldn’t.
Hunter was stiff beside her, but he didn’t hesitate.
He bowed lower. "I will not fail you, Emperor Belos."
(Y/N) clenched her jaw, forcing her head down as well. "Understood."
Belos’s mask gave away nothing, but his voice was smooth. Satisfied.
"You are dismissed."
(Y/N) didn’t hesitate. She turned on her heel and followed Hunter out of the throne room.
But inside?
She was seething.
As soon as Hunter and (Y/N) stepped out of the throne room, they were met by a group of scouts standing at attention. Each one held something in their hands- new uniforms.
Hunter was handed his first.
The Golden Guard uniform.
It was unlike the standard scout attire- more ornate, with a high-collared cloak, armor with gold accents, and a mask that bore the signature sharp, beak-like shape. The uniform had apparently been passed down to him, the title of the Golden Guard now officially his.
Hunter took it with careful hands, his expression unreadable.
Then the scouts turned to (Y/N).
She expected something similar- another standard scout uniform, maybe something slightly adjusted to reflect her new position.
But what they handed her?
It was different.
The fabric was sleek, sharp in design like Hunter’s new uniform, but instead of gold, it was a muted, light pink- the color of her Gem.
Her mask, too, was different.
It wasn’t in the shape of a beak or a traditional scout’s mask. It was round, smooth, completely blank aside from the cutouts for her eyes. It was an eerie thing, unsettling in its simplicity.
She turned it over in her hands, her chest tightening.
It was intentional.
Belos had designed this role for her. He had taken her identity, her Gem, and turned it into a title, something that meant she belonged to him.
He had done the same to Hunter.
The two of them weren’t just scouts anymore. They were weapons.
And they were supposed to wield each other.
(Y/N) clenched her jaw but said nothing as she took the uniform.
One of the scouts stepped forward again, handing them a scroll, sealed with the mark of the Emperor’s Coven.
Hunter took it, breaking the seal and unrolling it. His eyes scanned over the orders inside.
(Y/N) watched as his grip on the paper tightened.
“What is it?” she asked, already dreading the answer.
Hunter exhaled sharply before handing her the scroll.
(Y/N) took it and read-
New Orders: Golden Guard and Onyx. Monitor Lilith Clawthorne closely. She has been ordered to bring in her sister, the wild witch Eda Clawthorne. If she fails, she will be stripped of her title. The human girl from Bonesborough attends a local school in an attempt to become a witch. The school is set to tour the Emperor’s Coven today. Lilith is expected to keep an eye on them. You will ensure she remains loyal. You will not intervene, just report back if anything is to occur.
(Y/N)’s grip on the scroll tightened.
Belos was setting up a trap.
Lilith was running out of time to bring Eda in, and if she failed, she would be punished. And now, they were supposed to watch her, report any hesitation, and make sure she didn’t stray.
And on top of that, the human- the girl (Y/N) had just seen- was going to be in the castle today.
She and Hunter were expected to watch.
To report if things didn’t go the way Belos wanted.
(Y/N)’s stomach twisted.
Hunter swallowed, still staring at the uniform in his hands. He had worked for this moment his whole life.
But now that it was here, she could feel the weight pressing down on him.
She met his gaze.
Neither of them said it.
But they were both thinking the same thing.
How much longer can we keep doing this?
They both headed back to their room, to change, and to start their new mission… As the day went on, it had been uneventful- for the most part.
Hunter and (Y/N) had stayed close to the Hexside students, their orders clear: Watch. Observe. Report if necessary.
(Y/N) had always hated orders like that.
It meant sitting back and watching things unfold, letting the pieces fall into place without interfering. And today?
The pieces were definitely falling.
She had noticed the human girl- Luz- trying to sneak away almost immediately. She wasn’t exactly subtle, tugging on grates, looking around with a suspicious expression despite her attempt to blend in.
Two others- friends, clearly- watched her with amusement.
One was a younger boy, dressed in the blue uniform of the Illusion track. The other was a girl, taller, with cute round glasses. She wore green- Plant track.
They were definitely letting Luz do her own thing, though it was obvious they found her antics entertaining.
(Y/N) shared a glance with Hunter, who simply crossed his arms and sighed. “She’s going to get caught.”
(Y/N) smirked. “Yeah. But it’ll be fun watching her try.”
Hunter huffed but didn’t argue.
As the tour moved into the Old Magic Relic Room, (Y/N)’s interest piqued slightly.
The room was filled with magical artifacts, relics of a time long past- the Green Thumb Gauntlet, the Oracle Sphere, the Healing Hat. There were statues too, high up in the rafters behind white-gold arches, depicting the original coven leaders from when Belos first introduced the system.
(Y/N) wasn’t sure why, but something about the room made her uneasy. Maybe it was the weight of history pressing down on her, the knowledge that all of this- everything- was part of Belos’s legacy of control.
Then, she noticed Lilith heading to the Throne room.
And she wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Luz, ever curious, immediately broke from the group and followed after Lilith.
(Y/N) and Hunter exchanged another look.
Hunter exhaled sharply. “We should report this.”
(Y/N) tilted her head. “Or we could see how this plays out.”
Hunter groaned but reluctantly followed her as they tailed the students a little longer, keeping tabs on everything.
Some time passed, and eventually, Luz returned to the group.
(Y/N) noted that she looked… off. Pale. Uneasy. Like she had seen something that had shaken her to her core.
She didn’t know what, but something had definitely happened while she was gone.
Hunter leaned in slightly, whispering, “Something isn’t right.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” (Y/N) murmured.
The Hexside students started leaving soon after, but Luz stayed behind.
Hunter and (Y/N) followed from a distance, watching as Luz seemed to be setting something up. When Luz peered out the window, checking to make sure no one noticed her absence, she saw-
Herself.
(Y/N)’s eyebrows shot up.
Luz, Willow, and Gus were all leaving with the group.
Except, they weren’t.
Seconds later, Luz was tapped on the shoulder, turning to find the real Willow and Gus standing behind her.
Illusions. Smart.
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Clever.”
(Y/N) grinned. “I like them.”
Hunter rolled his eyes.
Willow and Gus confronted Luz, holding up notes she had left unattended. As Luz tried to explain, her friends revealed that they already knew about Eda’s curse- and that they wanted to help her steal the Healing Hat.
(Y/N) let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
Hunter shot her a look. “We’re not supposed to interfere.”
“I know,” (Y/N) said innocently, rocking on her heels. “I’m watching, aren’t I?”
Hunter groaned, rubbing his temples.
They watched as Luz, Willow, and Gus made their way past the guards and into the relic room, sneaking toward the Healing Hat.
For a second, it seemed like they might actually pull it off.
But then-
Lilith appeared.
(Y/N) tensed slightly, watching the scene unfold.
Lilith barely had to try- she easily overpowered Willow and Gus, sending them tumbling aside before capturing Luz in a glowing containment bubble.
And then, without hesitation-
She destroyed the Healing Hat.
(Y/N)’s smirk faded.
Luz’s expression was pure heartbreak as the hat crumbled, all of her hopes for Eda’s curse vanishing in an instant.
Lilith’s face was unreadable, but her voice was cold. "It never would’ve worked anyway."
(Y/N) could feel the moment Lilith realized what she had just been given.
A weakness. A way to exploit Eda.
Lilith ordered Willow and Gus to go to Eda- to tell her that Luz had been captured.
Hunter watched all of this with a carefully neutral expression, his posture stiff, unreadable.
(Y/N), however, exhaled slowly, crossing her arms.
She had a feeling Belos would be pleased.
And that bothered her.
The moment Eda Clawthorne stormed up the castle, magic crackling around her like a living storm, (Y/N) knew- this was unlike anything they had seen before.
Eda wasn’t just powerful.
She was furious.
Even Hunter seemed momentarily stunned as the wild witch thundered through the castle, her very presence warping the air around her. The raw force of her magic sent shockwaves through the halls, setting banners aflame and making stone crack under her feet.
She wasn’t fighting her way in.
She was announcing herself.
She had come for Luz.
And nothing was going to stop her.
(Y/N) and Hunter immediately made their way to Belos.
If Eda was this desperate, this angry, then they needed to be ready for whatever was about to happen.
When they entered the throne room, Belos was already seated, watching everything unfold through the swirling green haze of a viewing spell.
Hunter knelt immediately. “What are your orders, Emperor Belos?”
Belos didn’t turn. He watched Eda’s onslaught unfold before him, completely calm.
Then, after a long pause-
“…Stand aside.”
Hunter stiffened. “But-”
Belos tilted his head, finally looking at them.
“You will keep your roles. You will remain where you are.” His voice was smooth, measured. “But you will do nothing.”
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. Do nothing?
Something was off.
Belos wanted this to play out.
Hunter didn’t argue further. He simply bowed his head. “Understood.”
(Y/N) clenched her fists but forced herself to nod.
They were playing a role in Belos’s game, whether they liked it or not.
The Duel Begins.
(Y/N) and Hunter watched as Eda and Lilith clashed on the castle’s high bridge, exchanging magic and insults in equal measure.
But then-
Lilith slipped.
In the middle of their heated argument, she accidentally revealed the truth.
"Then why were you so easy to curse?!"
The air went still.
Eda froze, her magic flickering for the briefest moment.
Lilith’s eyes widened- she hadn’t meant to say it.
But it was too late.
Eda snarled, her fury reigniting. The duel escalated dangerously, wild magic tearing through the castle bridge.
And then, amid the chaos-
Luz broke free.
(Y/N) tensed as Luz shattered the containment spell, landing on the bridge with wide eyes, her hands clenched into fists.
But before she could run to Eda, Lilith let out a low, cold chuckle.
“Oh, child,” she said, almost pitying. “That bubble was for your protection.”
Then, without hesitation-
She blasted Luz off the bridge.
(Y/N)’s breath caught.
Hunter flinched beside her.
Luz tumbled backward, her scream echoing as she fell toward the pit of spikes below.
(Y/N)’s body moved before she could think, a pulse of instinct from her Gem telling her to act-
But she didn’t have to.
Because Eda moved first.
With the last of her magic, Eda caught Luz, hurling her to safety.
But at a cost.
Her magic was gone.
The curse took hold instantly, her body convulsing as her form shifted, twisted, morphed.
The Owl Beast emerged.
Luz’s face was filled with pure, heartbreaking terror.
(Y/N) felt it. The shock. The devastation. The helplessness.
Eda, barely able to speak, mustered her final words to Luz.
Then-
She sent Owlbert to carry Luz away.
She saved her.
And in return?
Lilith captured her.
The Owl Beast was restrained, her massive form bound in enchanted chains. Owlbert, too, was seized.
(Y/N) and Hunter stood at a distance, watching.
Doing nothing.
Because that’s what Belos had ordered.
Lilith turned to Luz, her expression unreadable.
“Go back to your world.” Her voice was cool, final.
“This one’s ours.”
Luz’s eyes burned with tears as she was forced to leave.
(Y/N) watched silently, her stomach twisting.
Belos had won.
(Y/N) stood beside Hunter, her body stiff, her mind racing.
"Stay silent."
That was Belos’s order.
She and Hunter were to remain at his side, to be his shadows, to be present in case anything were to happen. They were not to interfere.
And then, as if nothing had happened- as if he hadn’t just watched Lilith betray her own sister, hadn’t orchestrated all of this- Belos praised them.
"You have done a wonderful job," he said smoothly, his voice warm, almost gentle.
He was playing a role, just like he always did.
And she hated that she had to play along.
Still, she dropped her head slightly, pretending to accept the words.
Hunter, beside her, absorbed them like they were air.
Belos placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, a sign of trust, of favoritism.
"I am proud of you, my Golden Guard," he murmured.
(Y/N) felt Hunter straighten, saw the way he lit up at those words- just for a moment- before forcing himself back into composure.
But she had felt the flash of emotion from him.
Hope. Relief.
A desperate need for approval.
(Y/N) clenched her jaw but kept quiet.
Belos turned, motioning for them to follow. “Come. We have more to attend to.”
The top floor of the palace was cold, sterile, designed for containment rather than comfort.
(Y/N) and Hunter stood still at Belos’s side as they entered the back room, where Lilith was struggling to restrain the beastly Eda Clawthorne.
The Owl Beast fought against its bindings, snarling, clawing, its massive form twitching and writhing. Lilith stood over it, clearly shaken but trying to keep control.
Belos stepped forward, raising a hand.
With a pulse of sickly green magic, Eda’s body seized, stiffened-
And then…
Her mind returned.
Eda gasped, her human consciousness restored, her beastly features retreating enough for her to think, to speak.
Belos moved closer, his golden mask unreadable.
"You have something that does not belong to you," he said smoothly, his tone almost casual.
Eda blinked, her body still weak, but her glare was unwavering. “And what’s that, Chuckles?”
Belos tilted his head slightly. “The portal door.”
(Y/N) froze.
A portal?
To the Human Realm?
Her hands clenched at her sides, her pulse spiking.
Why hadn’t he said anything before?
Hadn’t that been their deal? If he ever learned about a way home, he was supposed to tell her.
But he had kept it from her.
Because of course he did.
Her eyes flickered toward Hunter, but if he had any reaction, he wasn’t showing it.
Eda, however, laughed.
"Yeah, no. Not happening."
Belos exhaled, as if disappointed. “That is… unfortunate.”
He turned slightly, motioning toward one of the guards. “Then I will simply retrieve it myself. Take her away. She will be dealt with.”
Lilith’s face fell.
“My lord-” she started, stepping forward. “You promised-”
Belos ignored her.
Eda struggled weakly as the guards grabbed her, pulling her toward another chamber. “Hey! HEY! You slimy son of a-”
The door slammed shut.
Lilith stood frozen, eyes wide.
“B-But you said…” she whispered, looking genuinely shaken.
Belos turned his gaze toward her, his voice eerily calm. “I said she would be dealt with.”
(Y/N) watched as something in Lilith cracked.
For the first time, she seemed uncertain, like she had finally realized that her loyalty to Belos wasn’t going to be rewarded the way she had thought.
Belos held out Owlbert, the small staff twitching slightly in his grasp.
He placed it in Lilith’s hands.
“Destroy it.”
Lilith swallowed hard, gripping the staff.
She didn’t argue.
She didn’t refuse.
She just stood there, holding the staff like it was something fragile, something she didn’t want to break.
(Y/N) felt the shift.
Lilith was crumbling.
And Belos knew it.
With that final order, Belos turned and walked away, his white cloak billowing behind him.
(Y/N) and Hunter followed wordlessly, their roles clear.
Stay silent.
Do nothing.
Watch everything unfold.
(Y/N) didn’t look back.
Because if she did-
She wasn’t sure if she could keep pretending.
Neither of them spoke as they returned to their room, both lost in their own thoughts. The moment the door shut behind them, (Y/N) pulled off her mask, setting it down with a quiet thunk on the table.
Hunter did the same, rubbing a hand over his face before sitting heavily on his bed.
The air in their quarters was heavy.
(Y/N), however, wasn’t ready to just sit there.
She walked over to the small crystal ball they had gotten to share, a small luxury she had managed to get for them. It was their equivalent of a TV, the closest thing she had to anything that reminded her of home.
Flipping through the channels, she barely paid attention at first- random shows, puppet theaters, coven announcements-
Until she landed on the news report.
Her fingers froze over the controls.
The screen showed a press conference, the Emperor’s Coven symbol displayed behind the speakers.
And then-
Kikimora.
She stood at the podium, official and composed, her shrill voice sharp as she addressed the crowd.
"The Emperor’s Coven has adjudicated on the matter of the wild witch Eda Clawthorne."
(Y/N)’s stomach tightened.
Hunter, who had been half-distracted, immediately sat up straighter.
"It has been decided that her punishment will be petrification."
The words slammed into the room like a physical force.
(Y/N)’s breath hitched.
"The petrification will occur at sunset."
Silence.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them breathed.
For a long moment, (Y/N) just stared at the screen, at the smug confidence in Kikimora’s stance, at the casual way she announced Eda’s death like it was just another day at work.
Then, without a word, she turned off the crystal ball.
Hunter was already standing.
“We should be there in person,” he said, his voice unreadable.
(Y/N) exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”
They didn’t need to discuss it.
They didn’t need to argue.
They moved quickly, retrieving their masks, adjusting their uniforms, securing their weapons.
It was a ritual at this point- getting ready, preparing for their roles.
But this time?
It felt different.
This wasn’t just another mission.
This was a death sentence.
And they were going to watch it happen.
-
leandraisnotfruity liked this · 1 month ago -
piratemaxine05 liked this · 1 month ago -
xsilcos-slxtx liked this · 1 month ago -
softboiledeggroll liked this · 1 month ago -
arsonthechild liked this · 1 month ago -
oporayamm liked this · 2 months ago -
deliciousspecimen reblogged this · 2 months ago -
nonebutlookie reblogged this · 2 months ago -
superstrawberrygirl reblogged this · 2 months ago -
bex-squeaker liked this · 2 months ago -
deliciousspecimen reblogged this · 2 months ago
-
superstrawberrygirl reblogged this · 2 months ago
-
superstrawberrygirl liked this · 2 months ago
-
deliciousspecimen reblogged this · 2 months ago
20-year-old artist in learning (Digital and traditional)| Gender fluid (They/Them) | ♑ | Pansexual/Demiromantic/Polyamorous | @piratemaxine05 is my lovely wife | On the Spectrum | SOCIALS!!! (Tumblr: @DeliciousSpecimen | ao3: DeliciousSpecimen | Wattpad: @idefcanyway | FFnet: DeliciousSpecimen | Insta: delicious.specimen)
56 posts