#Elyon x mc

[eggroll-sama]

Treasure Me

Elyon x reader. You’re a bartender that works at the Wet Wick and when Elyon meets you he finds himself with feelings he’s not accustomed to. Reader is a hopeless romantic that wants love, while Elyon doesn’t believe in it till he becomes a victim of it. SFW, written in Elyon’s perspective.

Taking inspiration from a fanfic called Kintsugi by Leanderfields. Check them out!!

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You were dozing off between the state of sleep and wake in bed. Your back to Elyon, who spooned you tightly with his hands splayed wide on your lower abdomen.

What a splendid creature you were to Elyon, a beaut with extraordinary courage and heart. To think you were just around the block of his store, working at a shabby bar frequently occupied by the Bloodhounds.

It was ironic to Elyon that he, who only viewed sex as a commodity and fleeting pleasures, found love with one that viewed it as so intimate and precious, that which he found ridiculous at first, till proven otherwise when he fell madly in love with you.

At first, Elyon felt you were delusional believing in true love. For an owner of the most successful brothel in Hightown, true love was simply for the fairy tale books. And then you came along, with your unabashedly genuine heart, your disinterest for the materials and luxury’s thrown at you, for what you seek was beauty within another, and reciprocation of your love. What a mess you made out of him, destroying everything that he prized himself and the world for. Power, money, status. But you didn’t want any of that. And if you were gifted it, you would accept it with indifference, glassy-eyed, or deny it, for it was of no use to you.

Your existence previously invisible was noticed, and you became a nuisance to him. Catching you at a cafe nose deep in an old romance novel, cover frayed and pages yellowing, yet eyes sparkling with joy and wonder at the words painting pictures he couldn’t imagine. Seeing you talk to your friends from across the street, smile splitting your face and cheeks flushed from laughter, and how he wished you looked at him that way one day, to bask in the soft glowing aura of your presence. From the window of the Wet Wick, he can see you working, drying glasses with a towel. It became routine for him to catch a glimpse of you every morning before work. Only one day, you were talking to the green-eyed mage, shamelessly flirting with you with a knowing smile then proceeding to caress your cheek, causing you to blush and in reaction swatting your towel at his arms playfully. Watching this through the window, Elyon’s heart stirred, swiftly leaving the scene so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself. In his office, he replayed the scene inside his head while his hand occupied a glass of wine, wondering your relations with the mage and trying to ignore his heart rapidly beating inside his chest, hoping what he assumed wasn’t true and that you weren’t in fact already someone else’s. And if you were, he just had to steal you from them, for he could treat you much better, lavish you with love and attention, and make you the happiest.

To want another person to be happy. It was a foreign feeling, but it came so easily to him when it was you. He was a selfish man, for that he knew all too well. He wasn’t exactly known for his generosity amongst the nobles. Yet he found himself thinking of you when you weren’t there, mind often wondering of ways to lavish you with gifts— this perfume would be to their liking, this book they’d adore, this necklace bejeweled with diamonds would look exquisite around their neck— and make you happy. In the middle of the night, you would plague his mind, and his hands would reach for your presence next to him, but only met with frigid sheets. Is this what it feels like to be in love? It was torture, tumultuous to his heart and ego that was so used to buying everything he wanted. But your heart wasn’t something he could buy. And nothing that he previously thought all he needed to gain one’s love, you cared for. What you cared for was so foreign in his life, he wasn’t adept at providing. Many a nobles he’s courted, slept with, voicing empty words of love and worship and that he would return with equal lack of passion. But you were a commoner that didn’t know of those courting formalities, and you had a keen intuitiveness that allowed you to see through others. Both of which was troublesome. Not only that, he didn’t win your favor. Quite the opposite. When Elyon had first met you, you voiced disdain for his lack of character in owning a business that you claimed sold bodies for a fake sense of comfort and acceptance. So he had to change tactics.

Little small steps was what he took to unwind you, to build his credibility, destroy the image you have of him as a heartless man, and though he’d admit that was an accurate observation, when it came to you, his heart overflowed with admiration, worship, and love, and that he wished you could see. And when his endeavors was able to chip your walls and he saw a flicker of a smile on your lips, he was over the moon. It was a slow process, but with a good progression, till you finally accepted his heart and bared yours to him.

Underneath the thin blue covers, Elyon drunk in your warmth next to him. He took your face gently and pressed a kiss to your lips, admiring how soft it was between his own. His thumb rubbed your waist affectionately. You groaned lightly underneath him, mumbling incoherent words cutely. The moon shone bright outside of the windowsill, and your face illuminated like an Angel sent from heaven. He admired you up close. He could smell your shampoo with a touch of citrus honey. He kissed your lips again, this time you were fast asleep. He gently caressing your soft cheek with his thumb as if you were a porcelain doll. So close, he could hear the lull thudding of your heart against his bare skin, the best sound to put him to sleep.

Your heart was the most precious thing he could possess. Others could take his innumerable expensive trinkets and jewels, clothing, furnitures, his entire fortune for all he cared. But you were the one thing he’d allow nobody else to take from him.

You were his one and true treasure.

[consistencynevermether]

whenever i see that u posted a new vere fic i cheer‼️‼️ i’m not sure if ur taking requests but i just read ur fic with vere proctecting mc from the workers in the brothel and i love it!!!! i was wondering if u would be willing to write a part 2?? 👀 maybe we would get to see vere pry some info out of elyon for mc

I'm so glad you liked it!!! I wrote a part two, but from Veres' perspective. I hope it's close to what you wanted! Also this is the fastest I've ever gotten to any ask, and I will probably never beat this record LMAOOO

Part 1: here

content: vere x gn! reader, cannon typical swearing and violence, sfw but once again, brothel mentioned

word count: 1.3k

It had been about two hours since the Vere had left the brothel, with you slightly wine drunk on his arm. It was late, and he was walking you back to your room at the Wet Wick. The last thing he wanted was you wandering into a soulless, or one of Leander's annoying Adderstones. 

The walk was shockingly quiet. You were both contemplating the plan you had explained to him on getting information from the Abbess’s private collections. It was a solid plan; some things could be streamlined, but overall, Vere thought it would work.

But almost more importantly to him, you had made a plan. For him. 

Vere had an expectation of how this little partnership would go. He would offer you bits and pieces of leads about your curse, and only give them to you when you made real progress helping him get free. Completely reasonable. A mutually beneficial transaction hidden behind the guise of allyship.

What he didn’t expect was how damn interesting you would be. The way you were able to pick up on his tricks and tells, and always able to stay just aware enough not to fall into his claws.

He didnt expect you to actually have anything interesting to say, ever really. Interesting wasn't a qualification for working with him, being useful was. But all it took was one walk where one of you had sparked up a conversation, and Vere found himself hanging onto your every word. You were witty. You were intelligent. You were creative. Somehow, every story you told was captivating, every observation you made was useful, and all the research you did looking up what exactly his chains were was thorough. 

He didnt expect you to care. But when he had opened up about how much it affected him to be chained down, you didnt just look at him with pity or useless sympathy. You were angry with him. You assured him that he was right to be mad, to feel bitter and alone. You listened. You were encouraging. You made plans to get him closer to freedom, not just talking about how it would happen one day. And you could tell when he was feeling down. It took Vere a while to notice you were conveniently always there when he felt at his lowest (you could tell by the way his ears flattened and his attitude soured). Somehow, when he needed you most, you were always quietly there. 

And now here you were. Defeated, without a lead, and still, you tried to help him. You didnt just tolerate him because he's useful, you enjoyed being around him. 

And loath to admit it, Vere enjoyed being around you. A little too much, he was beginning to realize. 

When he saw you walk into Elyon's brothel earlier, it was like he could feel you twisting a dagger into his stomach. Sickness, panic, anger, and jealousy washed over him in waves. He tried to justify it for a second. He was upset because you had been immune to his charms, and not theirs. But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. 

He didnt even know why he followed you in, but when he understood the situation, the wave of relief that washed over him was just as comforting as it was concerning.

And now here he was, walking you up the stairs to your room at the wick, about to do something stupid on your behalf. It was becoming impossible for him to deny why he was acting this way. 

But regardless, he watched as you walked into your room, not leaving till you closed the door, taking you out of his line of sight.

Now, it was time to go hunting.

When Elyon wasn't at his bar, he was at his manor. An extravagant and lavish property in High Town. Elyon was a wealthy noble, in more than just money. His influence spread far, even into the Sinobium. If Vere made one wrong move, he could end up chained to a wall instead of to a collar. Yet somehow, despite that, you were worth the risk.

Vere slipped into the shadows easily. You were good company, but ultimately just a human. You couldn't move the way he did, and within seconds he was in the heart of Hightown, just a stone's throw away from Elyon's manor. 

Vere needed only a moment to call upon his true form, the madness and chaos of the beast he really was. The power he had when unchained felt like a distant memory, but that didn’t make his more limited abilities any less deadly to the average human, and Elyon was just that. A human. 

Within an instant, the shadows wrapped around Vere, and the next step his leather boots took was on the plush carpet of Elyon's study. 

Everything dripped with wealth and class. The dark mahogany desk and bookshelves were of the finest craftsmanship. The room hosted many priceless objects simply on display for the owner to enjoy. The whisky glass that clinked as Elyon took a sip sounded clear, the result of it being made from pure crystal. 

The two stood face to face. Neither was surprised to see the other. 

Elyon motioned for Vere to sit, pouring him a glass of whisky as he moved towards the mahogany table.

“So,” Elyon began. “I hear that new little interloper is under your protection.”

“You're just now hearing about it? And here I thought your little spies kept you more connected than that. Such a pity,” Vere sneered, his eyes narrowing with every word. 

Elyon’s eyes narrowed, the silver of his irises contrasting against his dark grey sclera. The slight did not go unnoticed. But Vere was betting on what he knew: Elyon was a businessman. He would try to resolve this peacefully before resorting to calling in a favor from the Sinobium. After all, making an enemy of any monster, even a chained one, was bad for the longevity of any business. 

As it turns out, Vere was a good gambler.

“I cannot reveal the names of my clients to your friend. My business thrives on the assurance that my clients can remain completely anonymous.” Elyon explained.

“I won't tell this client we got the information from you. I'll gladly make up some lie about how I spotted them while they were in town.” Vere countered. “And might I remind you, as you so observantly brought up, you planned to kill someone under my protection. Give me the name, and we all walk away as if nothing happened. Understood?”

As Vere spoke, the air began to feel suffocating. Veres' pinprick pupils disappeared in a sea of red. He was serious. Even Elyon, with all his power and intelligence, couldn't stop the primal fear of realizing you were all alone in the room with a creature that considered you prey. 

Elyon sighed and began to write a name down on a sheet of paper, the ink of his ivory fountain pen slightly bleeding through the fine parchment. His perfectly manicured nails brushed against Veres' claws as he handed the paper over.

“Don't let this get back to me,” Elyon warned.

Vere simply nodded and began to exit the way he came in. Elyon had outlived his usefulness and was no longer worthy of any attention.

As he skipped along the streets of Hightown, he couldn't help but picture what face you would make when he gifted you this little scrap of parchment. Part of him imagined this was proving something. Look at what he could do for you. What he could provide. You would be a fool to ever choose some common human over him. 

Any onlookers that night would see a beautiful man, his cheeks as red as his hair, twirling a scrap of paper between his claws.

[toxintouch]

Mhin: Poorly Disguised || Mhin x Unspecified MC (Dom!MC is implied??) Rating: T || CW: Implied future misuse of a Senobium (clergy/government?) uniform. Brothel mention in narrative. Stolen clothes that don't fit. Premise: crack treated seriously.

Mhin's arms are crossed tightly, eyes closed, breaths carefully even.  They can hear the shuffling of fabric behind them.  Uncertain steps.  The sound of your bandaged hands smoothing down starched fabric.

A long stretch of silence.

Their eyebrow twitches in impatience; they lose count of the exhalations they were taking a census of.

“Mhin, I…uh, I don't think this is going to work.”

Mhin turns to you impatiently, a sharp question poised on their lips, but once their eyes land on you they see exactly what you mean.  

The Senobium uniform hugs the contours of your body far too tightly for propriety.  The buttons on the blouse are splayed open a scandalous amount, unable to close due to the poor fit of the stolen garment, thus allowing Mhin a teasing glimpse of your chest.  The tempting image of you is burned in their mind before they can look away, the heart that they had been keeping so carefully in check while you changed now racing.

You don't look a single bit like you'd be mistaken for a legitimate member of the clergy, not even to the uncaring or untrained eye.  Not that much of anyone could possibly look away from you, once they’ve caught a glimpse…

Idiot, don't you know what you–

Mhin feels the heat staining their face as they press their palms against their eyes as if to ward off a headache.  They need to reign themselves in before they forget all self control.  They aren't going to allow themselves to look at you again while you're still wearing that.

Not that it helps.  Mhin won’t be forgetting what they saw any time soon.  You look like someone's very expensive, if very heretical, fantasy.  Mhin doesn't even want to guess what someone might pay at Elyon’s brothel just to look at you, let alone…

“This was a stupid idea,” Mhin spits through hands still shielding their face.  If they are lucky you'll mistake their body language for an expression of pure frustration and not the attempt to hide their blush that it is.

But Mhin has never been very lucky.

They're so flustered that they don’t even hear you approach–your lips brushing against their ear as you speak comes as a surprise, their cursed predator-sharp instincts gone silent.

“Maybe not that terrible of an idea…” you posit.  Mhin shivers despite themself; if you didn't know the effect you had on them before, you certainly do now.

They can feel the fever of you against their side, can feel you like an arrow to the heart, leaning into them with your body, your own hands held carefully out of the way.  You chuckle darkly, pressing a dizzying kiss against the sensitive skin covering their parotid before you rest your chin sweetly in the curve of their neck and shoulder.

“You put all that work into getting this uniform for us, Mhin... I know it turned out to be a dead end but... I should still reward you for your hard work, right?”

Against their better judgment, Mhin drops their hands. Turns to face you. Finds their fingers pressing urgently into your skin, curving along your jaw giving you the very touch they so often wish they could receive from you. The ease with which you welcome their kiss–the way you've anticipated their eager capitulation–is something they'll have to scold themself about at a later date. For now...

It is unwise to allow a debt to go unpaid in this city.

[leanderfields]

KINTSUGI – the art of repairing broken ceramics with gold and lacquer, a reminder that there is beauty even when things fall apart

“I’m not looking for trouble. Honest." “Is breaking and entering not trouble?” “... Suppose, I only entered.”

Pairing: Thief! Leander x Hightown aristocrat!reader

Synopsis: Life as a Highborn noble can be as lavish and extravagant as one makes it out to be. After all, money talks in these parts of Eridia. Every interaction is transactional. Even relationships, a horrible realization that you had when turning down one too many marriage– or rather, business– proposals. But when all hope in love is lost, a thief breaks into your bedroom in the dead of night. He's charming and easy on the eyes, but is your heart the only thing he'll take?

C/W: f!reader (no pronouns but there are uses of gendered terms e.g. "my lady" and they do wear dresses), reader is not the touchstarved mc, reader has a surname and is a hopeless romantic, also an overthinker and bookworm that stays up reading romance novels at night, slight Elyon x reader, he has a surname too, I intend for this to be a slow burn, vague mentions of the patriarchy, written before the full game has been released therefore some creative liberties were taken, please check chapters for more specific warnings / more warnings will be added as the story continues

Status: ongoing

A/N: I will try to finish this before the game releases. I write whenever inspiration hits and school is starting soon again so I'm a little worried, but it's okay!! I have a vague plot outline and a vision (•̀o•́)ง

Table of Contents

01. the witching hour

02. a duke and his accomplice

03. talk of the town

04. yellow amaryllis

05. tbd

06. tbd

07. tbd (we'll see where it goes from there)

[eggroll-sama]

MASTERLIST

I also have an art account called @bizzxis, check it out!

RECORD OF RAGNAROK:

Ideal s/o Headcanons

Ideal Date

JOJO:

Narancia Ghirga x Hagen Comparison

Beauty and the Beast AU (Fugio)

SPIDERVERSE:

When Your Bikini Top Goes Loose

Accidental Kiss With Spiderman

Hobie Brown Guitar Model

ONE PIECE:

Symbolism of Corazon’s Death

Symbolism of Hiluluk’s Cherry Blossom

TOUCHSTARVED:

Theories: ||1|| ||2|| ||3|| ||4|| ||5|| ||6|| ||7|| ||8|| ||9|| ||10|| ||11|| ||12||

Demo Review

Leander Character Breakdown

Hike Headcanon

Nationality Headcanon

The TS LI’s Try to Choose Roomates

Treasure Me || Elyon x MC