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starlightzoey · 11 days ago

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despite the world

— your union is a symphony of imperfection; as it begins with your sin, so it will last with his. and your song welcomes the new life you made.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: hi hi! this may be the dawn of a humble pregnancy series pre-twin babies, as many have requested and i have also been very excited to write. hope u enjoy this one! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | fluff, some angst/comfort, some dating stages hehe, pregnancy announcement!, mom/wife!reader, dad/husband!sylus, & mephisto! (˶◜ᵕ◝˶)

In all your years as a hunter— protecting the city, upholding peace, being a model citizen— you’d never thought your greatest betrayal, your greatest sin against your oath, would be to fall in love with the enemy.

And marry the enemy.

It was manageable during the early stages of dating. When “Skye” would come by the association on his big, ominous motorcycle to come pick you up.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, palms colliding with his strong shoulders to spin him around— face away from the association windows. Before he’s seen, before he’s known.

“Can’t a man visit his partner?” he chuckled, large hands hovering over yours on his waist as you pushed him back to his vehicle. Content already just by the warmth you emitted through his clothes. “I missed your voice.”

You strained, shoving. “Then call!”

“Then I’d have to wait for you to pick up.” He’s pouting, you can hear it through the cockiness of his tone. Knowing that fact scared you and invigorated you all at once. You pushed, pushed, pushed.

“Sylus, they can’t see you.” You begged as you kept him from turning to face you, the association windows, your co-hunters beyond the glass. Him, the Hunters Association’s enemy number one with a kill-on-sight order, waltzing straight towards the main entrance.

He grinned. He decided he liked seeing you all flustered because of him. “Then hide me.”

He found a weakness in your hold, shifted his weight there, and broke past your restraints. Before you can react— reach for his face, push him back around, anything to save him— he gently slid his hands to your cheeks. He cups your jaw as if you were paper and fire, and leans down to scorch your lips in his flames.

“I missed you.” He murmured the secret into your kiss, and would clearly not mind proclaiming it to the world should you wish.

You softened, relenting in his embrace. Kiss him back. “Stubborn.”

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Or when he’d send flowers to your desk.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The cards held little information as to why the sender decided to gift them, but as to who…

“How much fruit does this guy sell?” Andrew wonders, poking at the hydrangeas and sunflowers in bundles on your desk. Vases, baskets, and bouquets have made your little cubicle into a giant parade float. Your corner is single-handedly making the building smell a little sweeter.

“Not much,” you murmur, fingers dancing over the stand-out vase of daturas closest to your monitor. A shy blush pairs with your dreamy little smile.

Sometimes he’d appear at karaoke nights with coworkers under the guise that he’d been in the right place at the right time. There, you learned that Sylus prefers physical contact as much as it is possible. He doesn’t particularly force you into it, doesn’t keep you to his side like a magnet. But rather integrates it naturally into your system.

He isn’t shy when it comes to mingling, proudly talking about his (very fake!) fruit business, his passion for bikes, and his night fishing. But as he speaks, his arm is curled around your waist. As you flip through the songbook, his chin rests on your shoulder, asking which song you feel like singing and if he can sing along. As you start to sing, he presses his lips to your head and hums the song with you.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

But as the years progressed, the relationship grew deeper. And with the undeniable call of your souls left you gasping for each other when apart— what you have has now turned into your greatest crime of all.

And here you are, buying a pack of diapers (since apparently you can’t have just one?), a pacifier, a bonnet, and a stuffed animal to confess to your husband your most notorious crime to date—

Having children with the enemy.

“I’m not asking here,” your nose twitches when you pout like that. Mephisto registers it into his log to improve his artificial intelligence in reading human emotions under: annoyed. But he squawks still in disapproval.

“Please, Mephie, it’s just a little bonnet.” The white piece of yarn and lace dangles from your fingers by the ribbons. Mephisto caws and flaps his wings, a clear no.

You grit your teeth. He files that under: desperate. “C’mon, it would be so cute—“

“What would be so cute?”

Figures. All the luck in the world siphoned from Sylus’s fortunes and placed into you, and yet when you’re together, he cancels it out anyway, depriving you both of any.

You’re able to stuff the props back into your coat pocket just as he engulfs you into an embrace from behind. He buries his nose into your hair affectionately and melts against you.

As per routine, he undoes his cufflinks, unlatches his watch, and rubs at his wrists in this hold. Never once leaving your warmth as if the rest of the home was submerged in the most frigid of winters. “Fighting with Mephisto again?”

“No, just conversing.” Your hand reaches up to caress his face, cloud fingers gliding against silken skin. Distracting him from your other one that pinches the bird’s beak shut to keep it from squawking things Sylus apparently understands.

“Mm.” You feel his warm palm on your belly before he curls it around your waist. Your breathing hitsches, the props rattle in your pockets, and you begin to wonder if he—

“You’re hungry.” He points out, feeling your stomach grumble and growl beneath his touch. “Sweetie, have you had lunch?”

You purse your lips in reply, and to him, it’s a telltale sign that you had some kind of beverage in place of a proper meal. He sighs, planting a kiss to your cheek before unlinking himself to move into the kitchen.

Once he disappears behind a corner, you wrestle Mephisto into the little bonnet and pacifier, begging him to hold still, to please, please comply just for a second. At one point, he gives up.

He is a perfect statue when you tie the bonnet that makes him look like a soot spot in the middle of a sunflower, and he balances the pacifier between the two pointed tips of his beak. He earns a kiss on his head before he’s sent away.

Mephisto lurks somewhere in the shadows as the gourmet instant noodles are halved and served in two ceramic bowls. Before Sylus takes his seat on the barstool beside you, you tug him close with shaky hands.

In truth, you never gave yourself the time to overthink it— took a test as soon as the suspicion arose, hid its positive conclusion, brainstormed the cutest way to tell him, and ran to the store as fast as you could. Not once thinking of anything else aside from telling him as soon as possible.

It’s natural that you’re feeling queasy. Though… It’s too soon for hormones, right?

None of the dots connect because now you’re crying, and he has the most horrified look on his face. Which is exactly the opposite of what you wanted. No, no!

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” he’s looking over you like you’d just returned from a mission. Eyes wide and worried, he clasps your cold hands together to heat them, tugging down at your cheeks to check beneath your waterline.

“Sylus, you like kids, right?” you hiccup, the words running from you before your tongue is able to catch them.

You know as a fact that he is kind beneath that hostile exterior, as warm as the hearth of a fire, and as giving as an unthanked tree, bearing fruits expecting nothing in return.

But beyond the kindness he has extended to you, you’ve never seen him handle children other than Luke and Kieran, who barely count despite their childlike whimsy they insist is ‘charisma’ or whatev—

He blinks. Confusion and concern warring clear on his face. “What?”

“A baby? We never—talked—about—it—“ your hand goes to your chest as you push through the sharp intakes of breath that come with the sobs. Suddenly, the world is spinning, and you’re maybe tilting sidewards. His hand catches your shoulder before you topple over.

Sylus looks like he’s watching you combust. “Beloved—“

“I’m pregnant.” you choke out, unable to map your way through the script you practiced thanks to the sudden storm wracking your chest.

Mephisto flies out warily at the cue word, clad in his little baby get-up, and rests atop your head. He ruffles his feathers proudly despite his degrading appearance. “Caw!”

Sylus is breathless. “What?”

Your arms hang helplessly on your sides. Sightless and senseless. You’re floating through a space of uncertainty and discomfort, but certainly not because you don’t want this with him— but because you feel the dread of bringing a life into yours. One of dangerous missions, kill-orders, wanderers, and blood.

And then wonder if he’d even want this life with you.

He stares at your face, the anguish and fear in your glistening eyes. He notices the loose pieces of ribbon slipping out of the pockets of your cardigan, the glitter on your sleeves, the bird in a baby bonnet on your head.

His heart races to an ungodly speed, and his silence betrays his one true thought on the matter.

“Sylus?” There is fear in your whisper when moments pass and the only sound in the room is the gentle hum of static. “Please say something.”

The look on his face is unreadable. He’s calculating a million equations to stop the end of the world. He’s trying to decipher illusion from reality in a fever-dreamt haze. He’s holding on to the last piece of sanity he has left as it dwindles away at the sound of your voice saying those words.

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant.

Your lip wobbles again. Frustration begins to build, seen in the way you tap your foot on the ground impatiently. You grit, “Sy—“

He engulfs you. Tightly, too tight. In an embrace that feels like it means more to him than just holding you. He is anchoring himself, making sure this is all real.

His one hand cradles the back of your head to his chest, his other arm wraps around your waist, firm and gentle all at once. His world is rupturing, but he welcomes it wholly, like there was no other end meant to be but this.

You feel the wetness when he presses his face in the crook of your neck. Your heart pinches painfully. His tears trickle down to your collarbone as he silently gives you his response.

“Yes,” he’s never sounded so raw, so honest until this moment. “Yes, I will love our children.”

It takes moments before you both come down to earth. Tangled in each other’s arms, bathed in each other’s tears. But when you do, it is joyful and bright.

Sylus has never smiled so widely and unabashedly in his life as he marvels at your beauty. You, who looks like you’d swallowed the sun and now emits its radiance. With your eyes of liquid starlight and your love-swollen lips. His heart, his soul, his life, his wife.

The mother of his child.

Never once had that realm of possibility been broached— being a father in any lifetime much less this one. The thought turns his insides into stone, his chest aches beneath the weight of a phantom spear.

But he whispers, just as he pulls away. “You are the only one who can ever make me want this. She is from you— what else can I do?”

Not because he dreads it, but he is helpless— built, existing only to love you. Everything you are. Everything you do. Everything of you.

You sniffle, reaching up to hold his face, and reply, “You think she’s going to be a girl?”

He looks at you, now— hopeful eyes shining, shaking fingers balancing the little stick that tells you your future, bashfully handing him a little dragon plush in a diaper (your failed initial announcement plan).

He is thawed, whole, redeemed in ways he cannot begin to understand.

He’ll do everything to deserve you, everything to deserve this family you’ve given him. He will curl his entire being around you; protect each beat from your hearts, hoard each breath drawn from your lungs.

Despite the world, despite his fate— he will bend fortune to his will, rewrite all the stars in the sky— just to live this life. With his family. With his child.

In all his years as a monster, in this moment, he will give everything to anything for redemption. For you. That is his greatest sin of all.