You’ve grown used to the glow of candlelight spilling out from Isaac’s corner of Nevermore’s workshop. It flickers across brass gears, coils of copper wire, and parchment scrawled with frantic notes. He hardly sleeps anymore, eyes sunken but sharp, hands trembling not from weakness but from the relentless pace he sets for himself.
And always, the name on his lips: Francoise.
“Isaac,” you say softly, leaning against the wooden beam of the doorway. “It’s past midnight. Again.”
His head jerks up. Shadows carve sharp lines into his pale face, the hollow of his cheek catching the light. He’s been working for hours, the same mechanism laid out before him: a machine of whirring cogs meant to harness power, meant to strip away Hyde blood, meant to do the impossible.
“I can’t stop now,” he mutters. His voice is hoarse, like gravel dragged across stone. “I’m closer tonight than I’ve ever been.”
You take a step closer, folding your arms over your chest. “You said that last night. And the night before. And the week before that.”
He stiffens. “This time it’s different.”
You can hear the unspoken part: this time, she might be saved.
Your chest aches, torn between admiration and worry. You love him,you’ve never doubted that,but his obsession gnaws at him like rot beneath the skin. And it gnaws at you too, leaving you lonely in the very moments you want to be closest.
“Isaac,” you say, firmer this time, “you need to rest. You’re burning yourself out. What use is saving your sister if you destroy yourself first?”
He freezes, shoulders rising, tension like a drawn bowstring. His dark eyes lock on yours, cold, gleaming. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m not saying stop,” you whisper, reaching for him. “Just… pause. Sleep. Eat. Let me help carry some of this weight.”
For a moment, you think he’ll soften. His lips part, a shadow of your Isaac flickering there, the boy who used to walk with you through Nevermore’s woods, murmuring secrets under the canopy of leaves.
But then the shadow vanishes. His jaw hardens.
“You don’t understand,” he snaps, pulling away from your touch. “None of you do. If I stop,even for a moment,it could mean losing her forever. Do you think I care about sleep? About myself?” His voice rises, sharp enough to cut. “I don’t need your pity, Y/N. I need you to stop distracting me.”
The words slice through you. Your hand drops. You open your mouth, then close it again, because what is there to say when the boy you love looks at you as though you’re standing in his way instead of at his side?
Your throat tightens, eyes burning. You step back from the table, back into the shadows of the workshop. “Fine,” you breathe. “If that’s what you want.”
He doesn’t stop you. Doesn’t call after you. The only sound is the relentless clicking of gears as you walk away.
---
You don’t remember how you got back to your dorm. The hours blur into a haze of muffled tears, the sound of your sobs pressed into your pillow so no one will hear. You curl against the cold wall, knees tucked to your chest, and let the grief pour out.
You love him. You’ve given everything you have to stand by him, to hold him steady when the obsession claws at him, to remind him that he’s still human. But tonight, he didn’t want to be held. Tonight, he wanted only the machine.
And for the first time, you wonder if there’s any space left for you in his fractured world.
---
It’s late when you hear the knock. A hesitant, uneven rhythm.
You don’t answer.
The door creaks open anyway.
“Y/N?”
It’s his voice,lower than usual, rough around the edges. You swipe hastily at your face, but your tears have already left streaks. You keep your gaze fixed on the blanket bunched in your lap.
“Go away, Isaac.”
There’s a pause. Then the sound of the door shutting, the shuffle of boots against stone. He doesn’t leave. He crosses the room and sinks to the floor beside your bed, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he whispers. His voice trembles, stripped bare. “I was cruel.”
Your lips press into a thin line. “You think?”
He flinches. But he doesn’t retreat. “I’ve spent so long chasing this dream,saving her,that I forget… I forget I’m not the only one paying the price.” He looks up at you then, eyes glistening with guilt. “I hurt you. And that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”
You finally meet his gaze. He looks exhausted, yes, but there’s something else there too,fear. The kind that comes from realizing you might have pushed too far, from realizing the one person who’s always been in your corner could walk away.
Your voice cracks when you speak. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Isaac. I don’t even need you to stop fighting for her. But I do need you. I need to know I matter to you. Because when you look at me like I’m nothing more than a distraction…” Tears well again, spilling before you can stop them. “It feels like I’m already losing you.”
His breath shudders out. He reaches for your hand, hesitant, as though afraid you’ll pull away. When you don’t, he laces his fingers through yours, gripping tightly.
“You’ll never lose me,” he says fiercely. “Do you hear me? Never. I get lost in my work, in my guilt, in all the ways I failed her,but you… you’re the only thing that pulls me back. You’re the reason I haven’t let the darkness eat me alive.”
Your heart aches at the raw honesty in his words. He leans closer, pressing his forehead against the back of your hand.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice breaking. “I’m so damn sorry. I should have listened. I should have seen how much it was hurting you.”
You brush your free hand through his hair, tangled from long nights bent over schematics. “You’re stubborn, Isaac Night,” you whisper. “But I love you anyway.”
His eyes flutter shut, relief washing over his features. When he looks up again, there’s a fragility in him you rarely see, a boy stripped of all his armor.
“Stay with me,” he pleads softly. “Even if I stumble. Even if I forget to look up from the machine. Remind me when I lose sight of what matters.”
You nod, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. “Always.”
He climbs onto the bed beside you then, curling against you as though afraid you might vanish. You hold him close, your fingers tracing gentle patterns against his back, and for the first time in weeks his body loosens, the tension draining away.
The machine can wait. The world can wait. Tonight, it’s just the two of you, clinging to each other in the quiet heart of Nevermore.
And though the shadows still lurk at the edges of his mind, for now, you are enough to keep them at bay.
Summary: In the morning after an intimate night, your child asked what the noises were in your room
Characters: Alucard, Carmilla, Dracula, Hector, Isaac, Sypha, Trevor
Warnings: Pre-established relationship, gn!reader
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Alucard ⚔︎:
Alucard was washing the dishes when his daughter approached, gently tugging on his sleeve. She looked at him with a curious expression. Alucard raised an eyebrow, knowing something was coming.
"What's that face? What happened?" He asked, stopping washing the dishes for a moment so the girl could take his hand.
"Dad, why were there strange noises in your room last night? Mommy was moaning, and you were groaning." The dhampir's eyes widened.
"Ah… that's… she had a backache and I was helping her stretch." He smiled forcedly and awkwardly. "But please, never say that out loud again." He went back to washing the dishes, his cheeks pink.
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Carmilla ⏾:
Carmilla was brushing her hair in front of a dressing table when her son entered the room.
"Mom, why was Mommy screaming last night? And the bed was moving."
"Because we were sorting out some things." Carmilla remained serious, her eyes never leaving the mirror. "And sometimes it makes noise when adults solve things. Now, why don't you go after your mother? She's dying to play with you."
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Dracula 🦇:
Dracula was in the library, sitting in an armchair, reading and studying the properties of some plants. Your daughter entered quietly and sat in the armchair facing her father.
"Dad, was mommy crying last night?" The little girl asked, worried about you.
"Crying?" Dracula looked up from his book. "No... she was just having fun."
"But it seemed like you were hurting her."
"I'd never do anything to hurt your mom. We were just... playing."
"Playing with the noise of things hitting?"
"Adults' game," he replied, trying to hide his embarrassment. "You'll understand when you're older."
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Hector 🐾:
Hector was feeding the dog when his son appeared, looking confused.
"Dad, why was Mommy moaning yesterday? It looked like she was in pain."
"It wasn't pain, buddy." Hector sighed and turned to the boy. "It was just that Daddy was helping her… with an exercise."
"But why were you exercising at night?"
"Because at night it's more… calm." His cheeks turned red. "Now forget about it and go help your mother set the table."
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Isaac 🗡:
Isaac was combing his daughter's hair when she looked at him suspiciously.
"Dad, were you and Mom fighting yesterday? She wouldn't stop screaming."
"Fighting? No, honey, I was just teaching your mom some moves."
"Fighting moves? So why didn't they fight in the living room?"
"The bedroom is... comfier."
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Sypha ✴︎:
Sypha was sitting on the sofa reading when her daughter approached, looking at her with a curious expression.
"Mom, was Mommy crying yesterday? Because I heard her saying 'oh, oh, oh' several times."
"No, princess," Sypha said, closing her book and sighing, "She wasn't crying. I was just massaging her."
"But then why was there noise in the bed?"
"It's just that the massage was really intense." She went back to reading the book, praying that the conversation would end there.
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Trevor 𓍯:
Trevor was sitting on the floor playing with wooden toys with your son when the kid blurted out,
'"Dad, why were you and mommy making noise last night? It seemed like the bed was moving?"
"Oh.." Trevor scratched the back of his head. "We were trying to catch a monster that entered the room."
"A monster?!"
"Yeah. A very dangerous one. It was hard, but obviously I managed to catch it."
"You're so strong, dad! Was mommy screaming because of the monster?"
"Well, yeah..." He chuckled, "But in the end, she was happy that I managed to catch it." Trevor then went back to playing with the boy.
Based off DM request from @msvirgoflower because this is a total rom-com cliche 😆
Castlevania boys [Drac, Alucard, Isaac, Hector, and Trevor] to how they would react if their s/o came back home after drinking heavily with friends and while trying to help them to bed when they get home their drunk s/o slaps them and is all like "Whoa back the f#$% up! I am off the market- I gots me a man and he'll kick your ass!
Prompts HERE
VALENTINES LIST
♡ [ trope ] to do cliche things with them, just because
Dracula
A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest as you slur out your words but he’ll indulge in the inebriation just for a moment.
“Oh you do? Well I imagine they would be protective over one such as lovely as yourself”
Trevor
Chances are he’s a bit drunk but nowhere near as buzzed as you
He’ll be slightly pouty and whiny, clinging onto you tightly, saying stuff like “yeah! and it’s me! Unless there’s someone else eyeing you…!”
Alucard
Maybe slightly annoyed but also stifling his laugh as you speak your mind to him
“Oh you do? They just be worried sick if you’re out here by yourself. Come, I’ll safely return you to them.”
Isaac
Calm demeanor but also with an exasperated look 😑 he tries to keep you steady
“And your lover would very much care if you were away from a crowd of rubes. Here, take my arm.”
Hector
It’s one of the rare occasions you get a genuine smile and laugh from him as he’s holding onto your shoulder
“Yes, love, and it’s me, hurry before you catch a cold or attract more attention.”
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: reader can grow raven wings to fly. when one of her wings breaks and nobody seems to be able to help, she turns to the last hope she has: Isaac Night.
𝗮/𝗻: this was supposed to be a oneshot again but guess who’s too verbose for that?? 😩 expect more parts!! thank you @flirtysnakes for this idea. i changed a few things, hopefully you don’t mind.
𝘄.𝗰: 2.3k
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: enemies to lovers. angst. slow-burn. violence. mentions of pain. Isaac goes full psycho mode. captivity/shackles. swearing. suggestiveness. gif not mine.
Everybody has, at least once in their lives, dreamed of flying.
The freedom of going from one place to another, touching the clouds, drifting in the wind, hanging in the air to one’s own will. Mankind has dreamed of that since the dawn of time, since the first human saw birds and felt something they could later label as envy.
But you never felt envy. Because you could fly.
You had been born in an Outcast family descending from an old and very long line of Ravens. At some point during a Raven's life, usually around 15 or 16 years after they'd been born, they would grow wings that could spread to about five feet wide.
This had happened to you a few months ago, a little later than the other members of your family (you were already 18). The years prior, you would sometimes feel a sort of tingling sensation in your shoulder blades. Your family was very expectant once you'd told them about this sensation. You still remember your mother telling you all about the first time she grew her own wings. But one thing she hadn't mentioned was the excruciating pain it caused.
You found out on your own. Earlier this year, before you went back to Nevermore Academy for another year, your wings had spread out one night while out in the forest horse riding — an activity you were very fond of and had been practicing ever since you could remember.
As your beautiful horse galloped through the trees, on a particularly warm night, you'd suddenly felt like your shoulder blades were burning. Before you could stop the horse, the pain got so bad you fell from it. You rolled in the leaves and as you struggled on the ground, on the verge of crying, practically howling from the sensation, you felt something literally growing out of your back.
Hands in the dirt, you slowly turned your head and peered over your right shoulder. Sure enough, a beautiful black wing grew. You suffered there, all alone in the forest, your horse panicking at the sight, until you heard a flapping sound and saw the leaves in your vicinity move a little.
For the first few minutes, back burning, wings feeling heavy, you tried getting up. You tripped on your feet many times before you could finally stand with the new weight on your back. You huffed and puffed like you’d been on a treadmill for three hours and tried flapping your wings. You steadily started levitating, hovering a few centimeters above the dirt and leaves.
It took you the enterity of summer and a few weeks back to Nevermore to learn how to properly fly with your new wings. You’d shown off to all your friends when you came back, so happy to finally be a proper Outcast and most importantly, a Raven.
“We get it, (y/n)!!” said Ophelia, your vampire friend, after you mentioned how heavy your wings had felt the first time. This was probably the fifth time you were telling her the story, voice filled with pride, your laughs escaping you lightly.
You were so happy.
It had been a few weeks since you were back at Nevermore and you were now sitting by a statue in the quad with your small group of friends.
You couldn’t tire of flying. It was so exciting being able to just bring your wings out — even if the process still hurt a little every time you conjured them — and fly, especially since there were only one or two other Ravens in the academy and you didn’t even know them that well.
All you could do was enjoy this power, alone. You had no pack like the other wolves, no clique like the vampires, no sports team like some other Outcasts, except for your small group of friends.
On a wednesday night in the middle of November, you couldn’t fall asleep. You turned, time and time again in your fresh and clean sheets, the sound barely noticeable in the silence, your struggle invisible in the dark. When it was past 2am, you decided to get up and stand on the room’s balcony.
You stood outside, a little cold in your pyjamas — which consisted of a simple low-back white silk nightgown — and stared at the moonless night. It wasn't cloudy, so you could bask in the glory of the stars, enjoying the way they twinkled, like they were inviting you to join them.
Challenge accepted, you smiled as you grew your wings and flapped them, slowly moving away from the balcony. You flew above the school, without ever leaving the premises, steadily gaining speed.
“Okay, let’s see how fast you can get, baby!” you whispered to your wings like they were a separate entity, feeling taken over by the need to challenge yourself.
After a minute or two, you flew so fast everything underneath you became a blur. The wind flapping your hair and your wings moving furiously in your back gave you a sense of freedom that was so much greater than the one you’d felt when horse riding.
You beamed like a madman in the night, laughing as the tears in your eyes dried immediately on your face from the wind. You looped, twirled, did some sorts of funny jumps as you circled around and flew above the forest.
Before you could assess the risks and danger you were putting yourself in, you forcefully dived towards the forest, challenging yourself to dodge the branches of the trees and any obstacle that came your way.
The sound of the flapping of your wings mixed with the wind drowned all the surrounding noise and the wind in your eyes made you nearly blind. But you blinked the fear away and looped and dived and soared skywards before coming back down, again and again. But this time, when you dived back towards the trees, you hit something strong, like steel and heard a painful crack in your right wing.
You gasped, peering over your shoulder as you saw your right wing struggling to flap, half of it bent at an unnatural angle you knew was bad news. You had missed a particulary long and wide branch, in the dark. The air left your lungs as the shock hit you, falling to the ground.
You hit the dirt legs first before the rest of your body followed, arms out in a protective instinct in front of your face. The last thing you remember is your left cheek and hands hitting the forest’s dirty ground. It felt cold, damp, and your wing and back felt abnormally warm.
— 𓅷 —
You woke up to the sound of scribbling on a paper in a dimly lit wooden room.
Before you could turn around to locate yourself, you felt a sting of pain in your neck and realized you were laying on your stomach, left side of your face pinned, arms and legs stretched out on a… table?
You blinked, trying to dismiss the way your pulse thumped in rhythm with the pain you felt in the neck, face, wrists and ankles. You saw that your right arm was stretched out, pinned by the wrist with metal cuffs stuck to the table and you could tell your left arm was too, even if you couldn't see it. It was the case for your ankles as well.
Your breath hitched, panic rising within you, unable to move and when you tried to free your arms from the cuffs, you felt a soaring pain in your back.
You screamed, a short, raw cry as you bit on your lips from the pain.
My wing, you remembered, tears filling your eyes as you tried to look for the scribbling noise you’d heard a few seconds ago.
“Don’t move”.
A young man’s voice.
Were you at the infirmary?
“What’s going on?” you asked, voice cracking, as you wriggled in an attempt to get free, disregarding the advice completely.
“I said do not… move…” the voice shot back, evenly but firmly, and you felt your whole body immobilized on the table.
No part of yours answered to your command to move anymore.
You waited like this, eyes bulging out darting as much as possible, until you perceived a figure in your peripheral vision.
It got closer, now fully in front of you.
It was a young man, adorned in a white blouse like a scientist, with broad shoulders that contrasted with his slender body. You couldn’t tell his height from your position.
He had black curly hair you would have envied if he didn’t freak you the fuck out right now. His face was sharp, nose defined and long, jaw beautifully sculpted, eyes black - or brown, you couldn’t tell with the lack of light, eyebrows long and slightly raised as he observed you.
One of his hands was raised, fingers up pointing towards you like he was controlling you from afar.
What the fuck? you thought before you remembered DaVincis could do this.
He was seriously freaking you out, so you tried your best to steady your breath and said, loud, as confidently as your position could allow you to sound:
“Release me, right now. You have no idea what I’m capable of” you threatened in the hope you’d knock some sense into him.
He only smiled. A slow, small, cocky smile.
“Oh, she fights back!” he mused, eyes twinkling in excitement.
Bastard, you thought. It amused him, seeing you like this.
Then you remembered… you were literally in your nightgown…
Embarrassment flushed your cheeks, as you tried calculating how much he could see of you right now, laid on the table in this very unfavorable position.
“I know exactly what you’re capable of” he added matter of factly, sounding unimpressed, tone cool. “Although I’ll bet it might be a little hard, with a broken wing”.
He was mocking you, you realized in disbelief, forgetting about the nightgown. While your ego was hurt, the news felt like a bucket of iced water thrown on you.
Your wing was broken.
“And if you weren’t so stupid” he continued, spatting the last word, “you would have realized I saved you.”
“Saved me?!” you repeated, unbelieving. “How?!” you practically barked.
“You were all alone, in the woods, at night, with a broken wing. A perfect prey for very hungry animals or… who knows what else” he hissed, hand still hovering in front of him, stopping you from moving. “I’ve been running some tests on it” he added, voice expecting a reaction.
You stared at him, baffled.
“Well, excuse me if it doesn’t really look like you’re saving me right now” you sarcastically spat, eyes motioning to his hand.
He looked at his hand, like he’d forgotten he’d been using his powers on you for the last few minutes and lowered it, eyes never leaving yours.
“Don't move” he warned once more.
You huffed, but felt grateful you could feel your muscles obeying you again. You closed your eyes.
“Please, release me” you said, voice devoid of any anger.
You were in pain, and so tired now, nerves giving up the fight. You opened your eyes, they were filled with tears.
The young man approached and leaned slightly over your body, eyes glued to your shoulder blades. You remembered you were in your nightgown again, and distinctively felt the weight of his eyes on you, a burning sensation coursing through your body, not so much because of the pain rather than his keen observation.
This was humiliating. You couldn't help yourself when you spoke again.
“Could you please, like… not look at me?” you asked, cheeks red.
“Why not?” he asked genuinely, stepping aside to look at your face.
Now that he was closer, you could tell he had brown eyes. You couldn't dwell on them, though.
“Because…”, not wanting to point out the evidently embarrassing situation, you huffed again. “Just… please, untie me. I promise I won't escape” you sighed.
With a swift motion of his hand, all cuffs were unlocked.
You gasped, relieved and slowly rose from the table, using your hands to steady yourself and trying as hard as possible not to think of how short your nightgown was right now.
But when you looked back to the young man, his eyes indeed trailed over your body and you did see them linger a tad bit longer than necessary on your upper legs.
“Oi!” you barked, decidedly angry. “Eyes up”.
He had been so composed and cool since the beginning of your conversation that you hadn't expected him to look so embarrassed. His eyes darted to the floor. You would have laughed if you weren't so tired and in pain.
He brought his hands behind his back, and blinked several times before snapping to your face once you spoke again.
“Listen, what do you want from me?” you sighed once more, the small resolve you’d found back a few seconds ago completely gone already.
He looked at you, jaw clenching and unclenching to his will. He thought, fast and quickly understood you wouldn’t approve of his methods. Why fight you now?
“You should get your wing checked out. Go.” he simply said, voice flat.
You couldn’t decipher the look on his face, your head hurt you, you could barely see clearly. But it felt like he was disappointed he had to set you free.
You stared at him for a while, brows furrowing, wondering what had deterred whatever determination he seemed to have in the beginning. But you seized your chance, got to your feet, wincing slightly in the effort.
The whole time, his gaze hadn't left you. He’d seen the tears in your eyes. Your body seemed so frail, shoulders a little bent in the effort it cost you to get up. It was oddly painful seeing you like this, after he'd seen you fall from the sky earlier when he was on his way back from Iago Tower. He was caught up in his thoughts when he'd noticed a bird flying directly towards him before he heard a crack and saw massive black wings falling on the ground, a few feet away from him.
He'd carefully approached the carcass after it had stopped moving, only to realize it was a human with wings. You looked like a fallen angel before his very eyes and he'd decided he couldn't leave you in the woods alone, even if he couldn't care less whether you lived or died. So he'd brought you to Iago Tower.
He now watched you leave the premises, a strange dissatisfaction sitting on his chest, questions filling his mind.
You carefully treaded away, not glancing once back at him, thankful you could get out of this alive. It was pretty clear to you that he was a fellow Nevermore student, since you had recognized the place as Iago Tower. You imagined him, finding you unconscious in the woods and you shivered at the thought. You really were in danger, out there alone. You pictured him carrying you from the woods to the clock tower and something about this image made you realize he maybe was right… maybe he had saved your life.
But it was only after you'd reached the school infirmary that you realized you didn't even know the boy’s name.
— 𓅷 —
Part 2
taglist: @burningwitchprincess
a/n: i didn’t expect to get so inspired by this!!! hopefully you enjoy this as much as i did. more coming very soon!
Isaac s/o being sick and always in the hospital, to the point her hospital room is decorated with pictures artwork, get well soon cards, covering the wall. When he visits her on the weekends he always brings her flowers and stuff from the coffee shop.
he tells her about school and his sister, and they just talk and spend time together.
When Isaac dies mortica comes to visit his lover in the hospital
she has a weak heart so mortica lies to her and tells her Isaac, is just busy and he’ll come and visit soon.
So as mortica leaves his s/o, asks her to tell him that she misses him a lot and that, she loves him. mortica is fighting back tears and tells her she will.
leaving his s/o waiting and waiting for Isaac to come and visit her, and he never does making her think that he doesn't love her anymore. She writes letters but they go unanswered she tries to call the school but gets no response.
she cries herself to sleep every night crying into her pillow, clutching a photo of then when she wasn't in the hospital. Until one night she passes away in her sleep.
I'm just imagining Isaac coming back looking for her to only find her grave…
Oh… and on the desk of Isaac in his lab was a blueprint for a new heart he wanted to make his s/o becuz she was slowly dying 🥲😫
✫Sammery: You said, “Go out with me, and in return, I’ll give you the money for the machine you want to build.”
Isaac Night looked. Indifferent, ruthless, and calculating. No love, no mercy—just the beginning of an obsessive, dangerous, and tragic relationship.
Isaac Night Masterlist
Isaac, without caution or even a brief glance, placed the wires and metal clamps on your arms and shoulders. He forced you to stand straight, halting every extra movement with a short frown. The small lights of the device blinked silently, and the pungent smell of chemicals filled the laboratory.
This was not exactly what you had expected, but what other expectation could you have had?
He was Isaac Knight; a boy madly in love with this rusty laboratory and all its tools and equipment. You couldn’t take your eyes off his every move. Every time his hand touched a wire or metal that had trapped you, your body shivered involuntarily, and your heartbeat raced.
“Breathe more slowly.”
Isaac’s voice was cold and devoid of any warmth; like a doctor’s instruction to a nameless patient, not a conversation with you.
A heaviness surged in your chest: shock, annoyance, and that same thin, strange streak of pleasure. A pleasure that stemmed from being near him—even if only in the form of a laboratory mouse.
It was a holiday morning, and you had come to the laboratory with hidden excitement. You had created a simple image in your mind: Isaac spending time with you, even once; maybe a meal outside, maybe a brief conversation, without the smell of calculations and notebooks lingering.
But what awaited you was far colder than any fantasy. Now you had to play the role of this boy’s laboratory mouse.
Isaac stood before you, holding a clipboard with a sheet of paper, and began reading the questions
“So, as a Y/L, you still haven’t been able to activate your powers.”
Your eyes widened. He held the paper from your personal file, stolen from the principal’s office. You were sure your father had paid enough to ensure no one could access this information.
You wanted to snatch the paper from his hand, but before you could move, he growled in a threatening tone:
“If you move, the device will turn on, and the first thing that happens to you will be your head burning.”
Your breath caught. You hadn’t expected this.
But you tried to act calm and composed; you couldn’t behave in a way that would make him doubt the brief and incomplete information in your file. It didn’t matter if he read them—your family would never allow the real secrets about you to be discovered.
The device made different sounds with every breath you took; sometimes a loud whistle, sometimes short and soft, and sometimes suddenly noisy.
“It’s scaring me…”
You said calmly,
Isaac, still staring at the papers and reviewing the information, muttered under his breath:
“You’re practically useless, But I still want to test a part of your blood..”
“Why do you intend to do that?”
You asked in surprise.
He lowered his head and glanced at you sideways. His eyebrows rose, and he stood straight.
“I just got curious about your kind.”
You smiled—like a naive fool, exactly what he wanted you to be, but both of you knew you were far more than a blind fool.
Isaac slowly began to remove the wires and metals attached to your body. Every movement was precise, cold, and completely indifferent to you; as if neither you were there nor your feelings mattered.
You, immediately and with a trembling yet hopeful voice,
“I want to spend time with you every day after classes.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched, and a look of disdain settled on his face. It was clear that this affection or fondness of yours meant nothing to him, and he was only accustomed to the new privileges and benefits had gained from your family’s money.
Reluctantly, he nodded slightly and removed his latex gloves. In a cold voice, without a shred of warmth.
“As you wish.”
You took a step toward him, and he, indifferent, began pouring water into a glass. He lowered the pitcher slowly, and the water poured gently and audibly into the glass. With every sip added to the glass, your steps toward Isaac grew more determined and quicker.
You wanted to touch him, even for a few seconds, even if you didn’t know how he would react. But at that moment, you realized that it had never really mattered to you what Isaac felt about you; perhaps it was all just a lie you told yourself to justify the silent pleasure of being near him.
Before you could make a move, Isaac returned with the glass of water and commanded:
“Drink it, and then leave the glass on the table. I want to research more about your DNA.”
You took the glass and drank a sip, the cold taste of the water on your lips creating a strange sensation—fear and excitement intertwined.
There was no need to worry; your DNA wasn’t accessible to a lowly creature like him, it was just meant to confuse and tire him, so you simply placed the glass back on the table.
Isaac picked up his wooden clipboard again, but this time the papers were not about you; they contained information about someone else.
Curiously, you asked:
“Who are they about?”
Without looking at you, he replied:
“It’s none of your business. Too much time has passed; now you should go back to your room.”
He picked up your coat from the table and handed it to you, with a smile that said his work with you for today was finished and you should leave as soon as possible.
With a short puff and a sidelong glance.
“Next week, we’re going on a picnic with the other kids. I want you to be there with me.”
He said nothing, but he acknowledged the command.and gently helped you put on your coat.
You turned toward him and stared into his sharp, piercing eyes.
lifting his collar with your hand and straightening it. While holding his collar, you gently drew him closer until your faces were near each other.
Isaac, appearing irritated and reluctant, cleared his throat and avoided meeting your eyes.
With more clarity, you commanded,
“Please, look handsome.”
You simply completed your sentence.
“I’ll see you.”
He said nothing again, but until your last step, he accompanied you with that same cold, emotionless gaze, monitoring every sound your shoes made on the tiles.
When you stepped out of the laboratory, you finally let out a relieved breath and leaned against the desk behind him. Under his breath, he muttered softly
“Spoiled girl…”
<<<
You returned to the dormitory, took a deep breath, and closed the door behind you. The heavy, cool silence of the room was still filled with the scent of your books and personal belongings. But there was something that made your heart race: the sound of quiet laughter and soft footsteps on the balcony.
Your eyes were drawn to the window and balcony, and you saw a scene you hadn’t expected. Morticia, your usual calm roommate, was on the balcony with Gomez; their lips pressed gently together, and nothing else existed but themselves. No glance or sound belonged to you.
Jealousy flared deep and quietly in your chest, a mixture of suffocation and injustice that ran through your entire being. Why weren’t you there?
Gomez… that damn boy was the greatest symbol of your lack of love in this school, in a way that from the very beginning, his eyes only ever saw Morticia, making you feel from the start that you could never have something like that for yourself without money and power. The things you had were only a weak, fake copy of real love.
It had been this way since childhood!
Your hands clenched involuntarily, and you felt the pressure against your lips. You didn’t take your eyes off the scene, even when your heart ached. This jealousy wasn’t just because of a kiss; it touched an old, deep wound that wasn’t meant to be revealed to anyone yet—a wound rooted in the past, whose full depth you yourself didn’t completely understand.
The sound of their laughter and soft whispers echoed in your ears, and in that moment, you realized there was no way to access their small, private world. You could only watch and keep your jealousy and suffocation in silence, just as you always had.
Maybe your strange and unsettling desire for Gomez’s roommate, Isaac, was also a source of this greed, jealousy, and suffocation you were feeling—but whatever it was, you didn’t want to back away from it.
You still weren’t sure whether the upcoming picnic would turn into a good memory for you and Isaac or a hell for this loving couple.
Isaac Night Masterlist
Part3 is here
Also, I’m uploading this story on Wattpad as well. If you’d like, you can read the fanfic there.
Featuring: Wednesday Addams x Reader(f), Enid Sinclair x Reader(f), Agnes DeMille x Reader(f), Ajax Petropolus x Reader(f), Bianca Barclay x Reader(f), Pugsley Addams x Reader(f), Isaac Night x Reader(f), Eugene Ottinger x Reader(f), Tyler Galpin x Reader(f)
Warning: English is not my native language
Wednesday Addams
A girl rarely shows strong care for you and rarely says words of love, but it's not because she doesn't love you and meets for nothing, not at all, it's just that the girl is not like other people in pairs and you know. Besides, if she didn't love you, she wouldn't waste time on you.
Wednesday is always by your side, wherever you are. It's not control or distrust, and it's also not stalking, it's just easier for her to know that you're fine and won't get into trouble, because the opportunity to die in the academy is growing every month.
If someone jokes about the fact that you don't spill water, she will definitely answer sarcastically, protecting you and your relationship.
Enid Sinclair
She loves to take a bunch of your photos, no matter what: beautiful or taken in a hurry, when you either don't suspect or ask not to take pictures, but the girl will still do it, because for her you are the most beautiful and it doesn't matter what you look like.
Enid will definitely put your joint photo on the wallpaper of her phone and will always admire it.
Agnes DeMille
Agnes knows that you are often nervous, so decided to help you.
When you are at important events or just doing important things that make you nervous, the girl is always next to you, naturally using her invisibility.
She knows that you can only feel comfortable with her, so she uses such methods, but Agnes does not suspect that you have found her a long time ago, because you always feel the presence of the girl, but you just pretend so as not to embarrass her.
Ajax Petropolus
Ajax knows that you like to watch him when he walks without a t-shirt, so he uses this information against you to tease.
When you're alone or when you're doing something important, the guy will send a couple of interesting photos, making you blush.
He knows that you will be confused for the rest of the time and will not think about anything else but him.
Bianca Barclay
You asked the girl many times to use her power on you, but she flatly refused, because she didn't want to deceive you somehow and use such a dangerous tool against your lovely consciousness.
If you wanted to see her in action so much, she touched another student, but not you, you are more precious to her.
Pugsley Addams
Pugsley would always give you artificial flowers, or with an even number.
When you asked, why? And kept saying that it was associated with a funeral, the guy explained that artificial ones would last a very long time and looked more beautiful, and he brought an even number, because he wanted each flower to have a pair.
All you have to do is accept it, because he will always give gifts with oddities.
Isaac Night
Isaac always allows you to be in his laboratory, at any time. The only thing he asks of you is silence and not to talk when you are not asked, because he needs concentration, and he also wants to be with you, so he combines two things together.
He will definitely share with you stories about his new creation, watching your interested look, which will push the guy to tell more and more about himself and his inventions.
Eugene Ottinger
The guy knows that you don't have breakfast properly, you just drink a glass of water. He is worried about your health and understands that you can walk hungry for a long time, even if you say that everything is fine, he knows that it is not so.
Eugene always brings you various small snacks so that you don't faint before lunch or dinner. He won't leave until he makes sure you haven't eaten them all.
Tyler Galpin
At first, he didn't talk about what Hyde was, because you were an ordinary girl and could be very scared and push him away.
But he couldn't keep it in for a long time, because he understood that he was deceiving you in this way. Therefore, at one point decided to take a big risk and tell the whole truth, which did not scare you away in any way, because you loved the guy so much that you accepted him as he is.
