#although there is a part of me a bit surprised by how ikevamp is still going so strong

[fang-and-feather]

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Rating: G

Category: F/M, M/M, Multi

Relationship: Arthur Conan Doyle/Isaac Newton/Reader

Prompt(s): Calendar from PolyamShipping Day at @polyamships and love letters from Day 4 of 12 Days of Arthur by @oigimi and @scummy-writes (hope it's okay to have a polyship fic for this)

Summary: Arthur receives a surprisingly heartwarming gift from his partners while they aren't home

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Version

Arthur had been having a good writing week, still, it was bothering him not having his partners around.

Isaac had been invited to give a lecture in another city, and since he would have some time, invited you and Arthur along.

Arthur was the one who refused to go because of his writing; he was somewhat inspired and in no need of a long distraction. You could have a trip together some other time, he told you. He would be okay by himself for a few days.

But it was the first time you had spent that much time apart, and he found it quite strange.

He went to pick up some coffee for a break, missing you bringing it, or being able to spend that break with either of you. At least you should be coming back today.

When he entered his room, there was something different. Someone had taken the opportunity, while he was away, to sneak in and leave a gift on his desk. But the only people who would give him a gift weren’t home. There was no way you would have arrived without him noticing. Besides, what reason was there for this gift?

Arthur picked the card that was placed with it to find out you sent something ahead because you wouldn’t be home at the planned time. Although someone else had snuck the gift into his room, the gift was from you.

Inside was a sort of daily calendar. It seemed simple, but each day had written in it what seemed to be a part of a love letter.

‘Our dearest Arthur

Although it’s early for a Christmas gift, we thought it was a good time to show you how much you mean to us.

I, especially, wanted to first thank you for supporting me through my homesickness every year. I miss home a lot this time of the year, and you always go out of your way to help lessen it, or at least comfort me. And it has become easier through the years.

There was never a moment where I regretted staying with you, and now with Isaac as well, and I’m glad that you understand that. I love how supportive and understanding you are.’

And that was only on today’s date. It was clearly incomplete, but enough to warm his heart. You didn’t need to thank him for these things, and you certainly didn’t need to write him a letter for it, let alone make such a gift.

Arthur debated if he should just read the rest now, or a bit each day, like you clearly had planned. He was curious and happy that you had made him such a thing. He leafed through the calendar, noticing some parts were clearly written by you, but others were in Isaac’s handwriting.

Isaac’s first entry was written:

‘I’m not as good with words as you, but I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you what I’m not able to do often and tell you how, despite all the awkwardness of our relationship, I love you.

When we first met, I genuinely despised your teasing and thought I hated you for it, but I know now that even that comes from a place of kindness. It’s not easy to deal with, but you just wanted to make me feel like a part of the group, and I feel grateful for that, even if I wish you had a less annoying way to do so.’

You should be enjoying your trip, but you took time to do something for him instead.

Despite his eagerness, Arthur chose to save the rest for later and treat it like a proper calendar. And when he read everything, he would write you two letters in response and find a way to surprise you, too.

He never expected that the opportunity to exchange a love letter with his beloveds would make him this excited. There was something special about putting your thoughts on paper and having something you could keep for a long time. He had written plenty of small letters for both of you, but this was the first time he received one first, and he couldn’t wait to read more of your thoughts and to finally share his with you.

Tag List: @tele86, @bicayaya, @nightghoul381

If you want to be tagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[beautifulsnake2162020]

Ikevamp headcanon: Arthur's thoughts on Moriarty the Patriot (Yuukoku no Moriarty)

Essentially what if Arthur (my ikevamp husband) learned about Moriarty the Patriot given his hatred and annoyance for Sherlock Holmes 😂 This headcanon includes my magical plot device on how Le Comte gave MC a techroom somewhere in the mansion that is connected with the internet and has 21st century gadgets and chargers (If you've read my Hamilton headcanon post, its the same room). Also one last thing, she's a Sherliam shipper.

You were bringing Arthur his morning coffee when you decide to ask him if he was free for a chat. You were nervous of course because you know of how he views Holmes in a negative light. And yet neither of you can't deny that Holmes has quite an impact in the world. You also knew that Arthur didn't mind it when other writers gave their spin on Holmes since it would give him a break from the creation that has become a nuisance.

However you also knew that he's not so keen on the Sherlock Holmes adaptations and wouldn't even go anywhere near the BBC version of Sherlock.

Which is why you were nervous about sharing the fact that you love Moriarty the Patriot to him. And yet a part of you can't help but be curious as to how the author himself would think about the series.

"Arthur, you'll love me no matter what I like, right?"

"What's this? Discovered something naughty? Don't worry-"

"ARTHUR!" You laugh as he breaks the tension with his flirting.

"Of course I still love you Y/N, even if I'm a bit bothered that you like Holmes." You were half surprised that he knew at least the partial truth.

"Okay, what gave me away?"

"Hmm, where to start? Well first I couldn't help but notice ever since you got a message on your phone that you've been inside the gadget room Le Comte has installed for you. And I know you weren't studying because I could hear music and dialogue through the door. Now while I may not know what they're saying, the fact that you would get this nervous and guilty around me alone after you emerge already confirmed that its probably something to do with Holmes."

Arthur then takes this time to give a reassuring caress to your cheek. His way of saying that he's not mad.

"Y/N, its fine if you enjoy any Holmes entertainment. You don't have to experience how annoying he can be."

"Actually Arthur, he can also be really annoying in some adaptations too. Depending on the actor."

"My point is, while I appreciate you being considerate of my feelings for Holmes. I hate it even more if you have to hide something from me that makes you smile." He presses his forehead against yours.

"Even if it is that blasted Holmes." You can't help but laugh and some weight has been released from your chest.

"Aww thank you Arthur. Actually you're only partially right." He raises his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Technically it isn't a Sherlock Holmes story. It's a James Moriarty story. Although Sherlock is still in it." Now that got him curious, and you knew that at least now he was really open.

"It's a very different take on your Holmes lore and I'm not going to lie that I prefer the character designs and ages of this anime and manga adaptation. It's called Moriarty the Patriot, or that's the English translation of the Japanese text."

You then begin to explain that the series gives the perspectives to characters that were seen as villains.

"Also I have to warn you, they made Moriarty the same age, and height, as Sherlock and he might not even be the character you recognize since-"

"Y/N, don't worry. The fact that for once Holmes isn't the star has already intrigued me. Even though I based him from Adam Worth I'm a little bit more open for changes in Moriarty."

You decide not to immediately tell him about how technically speaking, Sherlock Holmes is a fanon love interest based on the plenty of subtext framing devices in both the anime and in the manga.

You two then spend the rest of the day and into the night watching the first part or "Season 1" of the anime since going through the manga would take awhile. At least with the anime being more of a summary, he can judge if he wants to go more in depth by reading the manga.

Much to your relief, his intrigue for the perspective of William Moriarty is refreshing to him. He admits that while he wouldn't take it in the direction of the show, it actually works and he applauds the creators for not just "making Holmes the center of the universe."

One of the things he especially loves is while William is the main rival of Holmes, Albert and Louis are also heavily involved. And the creative liberties done makes sense with William Moriarty's characterization in the show.

This is probably one of the few times wherein he didn't mind (or cringed) at Sherlock's introduction. And was actually entertained in how Sherlock and William first meet.

"I'm upset now", "Huh? Why?", "Because I wish I had thought of introducing them like that first."

If you're wondering if he will ever pick up on the subtextual gay flirting between Sherlock and William Moriarty, he doesn't pick it up in the Noahtic arc, but he does notice it in "The two detectives" arc.

"Hold on, is Holmes flirting? With William?" "Well darling you did make it canon that Sherlock wasn't interested in women that way."

Before he goes to correct you, the most memorable scene was about to happen and you told him to pay attention to the scene just as you hear Sherlock say "Probatio Diabolica".

"Catch me if you can, Mr. Holmes."

"Would it satisfy you to hear me say that, Mr. Detective?"

"Oh these two are definitely flirting - and I don't hate it." As a matter of fact given how they act in this universe, he was open to them being a couple (he's not a shipper like you, but he's not opposed to the idea since he sees the chemistry between Sherlock and William in this universe).

By the time you reach the last episode and you were humming "Twisted Hearts" he becomes open to reading the manga once he's free from his writing duties.

He also finds it adorable that you read Sherliam fanfiction and doesn't mind listening to you gush about your favorite ship in the Moriarty universe.

[daisiesandshakes]

Good day my dear and first of all, let me thank you and praise you for your beautiful HC! I really enjoyed reading each one of them, and I'm grateful to have your posts filling my dashboard!🥰

If I may leave a request in your ask box... I would like to have a HC reaction of Le Comte, Shakespeare, and Theodorus with MC who gets all nervous and anxious with getting skinship from them for the first time (but eventually can handle it in time).

Thank you beforehand and do take your time and no rushing things! Stay safe and have a nice day~! 🍀✨

Hi sweetheart!

I am so honored to have you in my ask box 💝 thousand thanks for your praise, I am so happy you liked my HC!

Sorry it took a few days to write yours, and I really, really hope you enjoy it!

Here you go:

Ikevamp reactions to a MC who is afraid with skinshipping (Shakespeare, Theodorus & le Comte)

Shakespeare

At their introducing to each other William notices the hesitation as he reaches for her hand to blow a kiss on it. Might this dazzling, little dove be scared? Immediatly he interrupts his action and only bows with a warm smile on his handsome face to comfort her.

Shakespeare can read people very well and recognizes instantly that she gets scared when someone touches her directly. Dealing with his own fear (he's afraid of the dark) he knows how hard it can be to live with anxiety.

"Feareth nothing mine own fair maiden, I wouldst nev'r toucheth thee without p'rmission."

Enchanted by her sweet personality he's very eager to please and comfort her. When she's in town William tries to join her as much as possible, always walking on the side where people could touch her by accident. He would offer his arm when she needs to secure her steps and walk in front of her when it's crowdy (while glaring daggers) to guide her safely through.

Searching for ways to know her better Will arranges many, long walks at the Seine and dinner at a restaurant at a late hour when it's less crowded, chatting with her for hours. Seeking for possibilities to create a pleasantly warm and welcomed atmosphere for her, he asks her also for dinner at his Villa, reading out his newest script and teaching her old english.

Soon after William invites her to his rehearsals (he instructed his troupe members to avoid touching her), hoping that his kind and open troupe makes her feel more safe with the time. And to his greatest pleasure it seems to work. Everyone treats her like a precious, lost little sister and she starts to lose her inner tension around them.

It begins with small gestures, like helping the troupe members getting dressed with their costumes, passing over the props without flinching when they accidently touch her.

One evening she tells William how much she enjoyed the day with a bright smile while she lays her hand on his for a second. "I am so joyous to heareth those honest w'rds from thy fair lips" He turns his face away from her, so she couldn't glimpse the suspicious glistening in his eyes.

The day the play should start an actress has an accident and is not able to take part. Although she's got only a short performance, it presents an important twist in the play. Shakespeare is desperate and about to cancel the whole play, but then...

"I could do her part." MC's voice is faint but firm. Shakespeare's eyes grow wide with surprise. "Art thee sure about yond?"

She plasters a confident smile on her face. "Yes, I saw the rehearsals so many times, I could speak all lines backwards" she giggles, "and there is only one line for myself, so..."

William closes the gap between them, gazing deep in her eyes, frowning.

"T's not the line yond conc'rns me, I am sure thou art able to mast'r t. But the act'r hast to holdeth thee in his arms and I wonneth't confronteth thee with aught yond maketh thee feel uncomfortable."

She swallows hard but replies: "I can do it. When the embrace is soft and he won't press my body against his... I should go along with it. You all worked so hard for it, to see the play cancelled would hurt me much more than his arms around my waist."

The actor appears next to them "Princess, I swear I'll only hold you with the wings of a butterfly!"

With a warm and lovingly glare Shakespeare whispers "So t shouldst beest as thee wisheth. Thee can't imagineth what t means to me yond thee art willing to confronteth thy fears f'r our success."

As the stage play ends the audiance gives standing ovations. After every actor and at least William bows to the public, he rushes backstage for laudatary words. Spotting her his expression lightens up even more "Mine own muse, thee madeth t! Thee enchant'd ev'ryone and hath brought us most wondrous success!" he declares smiling. Laughing joyfully she hurries towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and Shakespeare freezes. "I am so, so happy for you Will! Everything went smoothly! Listen to the applause, Will! It seems it won't end!" As she lifts her head to meet his gaze he takes her delicate hand softly into his, and suddenly she realizes that she hugged him without any hesitation.

"Thee not feareth mine own toucheth anym're, little turtledove?" he asks barely audible.

Lost for words she only shakes her head, thightening the grip around his shoulder. Leading her hand slowly up to his face, Will  watches her reactions closely, ready to stop at any second when her features show displeasure. But the radiant expression in her eyes and the smile on her lips stays, and he nuzzles his cheek into her palm with a sigh. Resting her cheek against his chest she clings to him and both close their eyes, enjoying this special moment, knowing there are a lot more waiting for them to explore.

Theodorus

At first he's just annoyed by the "new, helpless hondje" that stays with them at the mansion. But after a few days he learns from a conversation between Vincent and her that she loves art as much as he does, what awakens his interest. Paying more attention to her  now he feels attracted to her charming personality and repartee (mostly when it comes to repel Arthur's salacious remarks).

In one of those moments he notices her unusual pale face and the tension in her body, trying to keep a distance between her and Arthur. Although his "threatening words" and his advances are supposed to be merely a jest, she looks like a cornered animal. It clicks in his mind.

Pulling Arthur back at his collar he growls "That's quite enough, get your besotted mess off her. That little hondje will only bark for me." A bit confused and wide eyed Arthur leaves you both alone.

Theo sighs. "You can't bear the touch of someone, am I right?" She didn't expect that he of all residents would recognize it first and in her surprise she only nods. Theo buzzes "Then stay around me and Vincent, that should be safe for you. I'll talk to the others, there is no point in hiding your anxiety. You shouldn't look over your shoulder in fear like a scared, helpless puppy everytime someone gets close to you."

Theo talks to the other residents the same day (threatens Arthur to beat the sh*t out of him if he dares to come too close to her again). From now on everybody still treats her kind and caring, but keeping a respectful distance.

Taking her right away everywhere with him he makes sure no one touches her, even by accident. In crowded places people make quickly room for them only due to his intimidating, beaming glare, ready to spread some black eyes if somebody should be so stupid to lay their filthy fingers on her.

She asks him why he's doing all that for her but Theo only replies "You can't bear it to be touched, I can't bear to have a sad, whining puppy around me. That's all."

But she realizes real soon that he is a very caring and soft person despite his harsh words.

Taking King out for a walk - "Hondje come with me. You need some fresh air and King likes you, so he might behave a bit when you come with us."

"You don't think you could go to town shopping without me, don't you? You need someone to take you by your leash. I'll come with you. We need more sirup either."

Sharing the love for art he'll even invite her to join him in his search for new talented painters. The more time they spend together, the more she seems to lose her anxiety around him, feeling comfortable in his presence. One evening both strall down the Seine he calls her near "Look at this picture hondje!" He stands close to the canvas, his left hand stroking over the frame. She rushes over to his right side and leans in, her shoulder touching his chest. "This is beautiful, Theo!"

"Yes, it is..." he mumbles into her hair, not sure if he's still talking about the picture, inhaling her sweet scent.

After they both discovered this talented painter Theo invites her the next evening into his favorite bar to celebrate this occasion.

It only takes a few drinks (although the bartender had the instruction to water her drinks down) and she's already tipsy. "Oi, hondje! We should leave now, I don't want to carry you back to the mansion!" She only giggles at this imagination and to his surprise no snubbing remark follows. Leaving the bar she stumbles soon, losing her balance. "Watch out, hondje!" He grabs her by her arm before she could fall to the floor. "Ouh, I feel dizzy Theo... would you mind to take a rest at this bench over there?" Nodding he immediatly leads her over, not letting go of her arm. As they sit down next to each other he mumbles "I hope it was okay to hold you at your arm, but I was afraid..."

She cuts him off, giving him a sweet smile "Nah, it was okay Theo. And at least you didn't have to carry me. I am not that drunk..." suddenly a hickup interrupts her. "Oooh nooo..." she whines.

Theo bursts into laughing "I see..." after a second she joins into his laughter. When the last giggle fades, she closes her eyes, resting her head at his shoulder. "I feel so tired all of a sudden."

"Don't mind. You can rest here with me for a while if you need to." he replies with an unusual soft voice. Very slowly he puts his arm around her, in case she wants to raise an objection. "I am not scared of your touch anymore." She murmurs, "I have to admit I'm really enjoying this right now." her words are almost inaudible while she nuzzles her face at his chest. Theo freezes in disbelief, an unknown warmth spreads through his entire body and his heart feels like bursting, relieved that she can't see the heat in his cheeks. Listening to her steady breathing he knows she fell asleep and he kisses her temple ever so slightly "So I have to carry you nevertheless." he mumbles with a grin. In the future he'd make sure no one ever gets the opportunity to touch her. But from now on his actions comprises a further reason.

Le Comte

He's living for centuries now and is able to read in people's heart almost like in an open book. Le Comte recognizes her reserved way when it comes to physical touch immediatly and invites her to his room for a talk. After he gives her a graceful and encouraging smile she tells him hesitantly about her anxiety, feeling embarressed to tell him about her inner demons.

"Ma cherie, don't feel ashamed. There's no reason for that. I'll ensure that everyone in the mansion respects your fears. And please don't hesitate to talk to me about anything that might concern you. Anytime."

This day all residents have a personal conversation with Le Comte in his room.

He will buy her several pair of exclusive leather gloves, so it might be easier for her to get along with her fear to be touched at her hands.

Knowing that public and crowded places are going hand in hand with the fear of being touched by accident he makes sure that almost everything her heart desires would be delivered into the mansion. A few days after her arrival she stumbles over a bunch of new dresses in her room and quite surprised she asks him how he knows her dress size. With slight flushed cheeks and avoiding her gaze he answers that he only has a good eye. (Liar... he observes her so intensly he could tell how many eyelashes her left eye has even when Sebas would wake him up from his deepest slumber...)

He will gladly take every opportunity talking to her, hoping that knowing each other better will reduce her tension and anxiety. Treating her like a princess with the utmost respect and warmth, she begins to relax in his presence. Strolling with Comte through the garden, taking tea in the gazebo, chatting about nothing and everything. Everytime they spend time together the space between them seems to melt a bit more.  

Taking a walk early through the garden together became a morning routine in the meantime and today it's warm and the sky bright blue. Suddenly King rushes playful towards them and jumps on her, trying to lick over her face. Totally caught offguard she loses her balance and stumbles backwards but le Comte immediatly catches her at the waist. "King, come here you stubborn beast!" Theo yells but King is already rushing further into the mansion. Theo apologizes quickly to them as he runs after his dog. "Are you hurt, ma cherie?" Concern lies in St.Germain's glance and voice. She giggles. "No, I am fine. King is such a cute "beast". Thank you for catching me Comte." At this moment he realizes that his arms are still around her and with an almost inaudible sigh he pulls his hands off her waist. "I am so glad nothing happened to you, ma belle." Then it comes to his mind, that she didn't complain at his touch. She didn't even flinch... pure happiness spreads through every nerve of his body and with a joyful smile on his lips they continue their walk.

A week later the weather ist still nice and warm, so she decides to visit the market place in town, getting some fresh air and maybe some fruits. The market is almost over as she arrives and less crowded. With a happy smile she studies the remaining goods as a salesman appears directly in front of her, eager to sell her one of his scarves. "A little dove like you  should wear a scalf, the wind still can be chilly..." Smiling politely she refuses, but the seller doesn't give up. "Here, this one matches your beautiful eyes" he goes on, his hands almost around her neck with the scarf. She freezes in panic, her face pale with shock as suddenly someone appears behind her, grasping the sellers'hands, holding them away from her neck. "Sir, what do you think you are doing, to harry a young lady like this?" Comte pushes the hands of the seller with one arm away, his other arm already protective around her shaking form. The burning anger in his eyes makes the salesman flee in panic without another word. Comte's gaze softens instantly as his eyes roam over her body with utmost concern. "Cherie, did he hurt you?" Still shaking she replies sobbing "No... It was o- only ..I was only scared he would touch me." Without thinking his grip around her tightens but in the next moment he takes a step away with a flustered expression on his graceful features "I'm begging your pardon, ma cherie, I shouldn't ... It wasn't my intention to embrace you without permission."

Shaking her head softly she closes the gap and leans back into his arms, her voice faint and pleading "Don't worry Comte, I am not scared of your touch anymore. If you don't mind, would you hold me a bit longer? It makes me feel safe." Stunned by her words he softly put his arms around her, his heart swelling with affection. As she rests her cheek against his chest with a sigh he whispers "I would so anything for you, ma cherie. And to hold you in my arms is my greatest pleasure." Slowly she lifts her chin to meet shiny golden eyes, in their dephts swirling so much love, adoration and yearning it takes her breath away. She answers his unspoken question with a lovingly smile.

[war--lords]

If requests/suggestions are open, could I please have more of the "pets snuggling MC in his place" but for some of the Ikevamp boys (Comte, Leo, Theo, and Arthur) If they aren't open, then I want you to know I like your writing 💙

Requests are permanently closed and I’m only taking suggestions, so thank you for yours! This post is dedicated to the doggos ❤️also, I’ve adjusted the details a little bit, but I hope you can still enjoy

Their pet snuggling with MC in their place

Theo

It’s past lunch-time, but although the sun is high in the sky, the weather is absolutely beautiful—even sardonic Theo can admit as much. He takes in the blue sky as he alights his carriage and takes his time walking inside the mansion. How long has it been since he finished work that early? He honestly can’t remember. Anyhow, he can do what’s left of it come nightfall. His priority right now is looking for you (he misses you, yes, but he most likely won’t say that out loud) and possibly take King out for a walk together because he wants to spend time with both hondjes

Sebastian will have to relieve you of your tasks for the rest of the day, no questions asked. Though the strange butler will probably ask him weirdly specific questions as a condition for your release...

Nevermind that, Theo thought to himself, because thinking about walking King with you brings about this warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach. The old him would probably berate himself for indulging unnecessarily in such happy thoughts, but he’s learned to embrace being content. You’ve taught him that, and many other things.

Okay, now he’s got to see you. 

Unexpectedly Sebastian says you’ve already completed all of your work for the day—talk about great timing—and that ever since lunch clean-up, he hasn’t seen you around. And thus Theo is left to roam the vast mansion looking for you.

You weren’t at your room, nor were you at his. Not in the lounge or the library, either. The other mansion residents whom he encounters have no problem teasing him about how frantically he’s looking for his lover (except for Isaac, of course), and that irritates Theo a little bit.

“Missing ____________ a bit much, aren’t you, Theo old boy?”

Arthur is lucky to not be slapped upside the head.

Huffy and growing ever-impatient, Theo stomps into the gardens, hoping to at least find King—he hasn’t seen the golden retriever around, too, so perhaps you two are together?

His gut is right, but that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to take in what’s happening under the gazebo in the middle of the garden.

He sees you, asleep on one of the garden chairs, King comfortable situated on top of your lap and chest like a little babe—and the canine is far from being the size of a little babe. You have a gentle arm around the dog as if to keep him in place, while Theo notices a book on your other hand, held loosely.

Heavens, he thinks, fighting the urge to bite his knuckles at the extraordinarily adorable display. All the annoyance from walking around the mansion and being teased by the other residents instantaneously melts away.

Grabbing a chair and sitting next to you and King, he reaches out to stroke your hair, his touch soft and fleeting so as to not ruin the peaceful scene set in front of him. Were he a painter like his brother, he would most definitely immortalize this on canvas.

It is King that notices his presence first, slowly blinking awake in one second, and in another, excitedly bounding and leaping from your lap to his in exuberant joy—something he does a lot. Theo lets out a surprised “hey!”, but having spent a lot of time with King, is ready to catch his furry friend in his lap and helplessly be the recipient of numerous face licks.

“Theo...? You’re home,” he hears you murmur.

His heart skips a beat as he watches you rub your eyes, slowly allowing yourself to awaken. He notices the flush on your skin, your sleep-ridden voice...

“Good nap?” he asks, his eyes ever watchful.

“Yep.”

“Wanna go walk King together?”

Just like that, you light up and grin at him, nodding enthusiastically—inevitably reminding him of the golden retriever sat on his lap—and he shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief.

Arthur

Being a writer who often spends many of his nights finishing manuscripts (if not flirting with girls in town—but those days are long gone), Arthur is thankful to have such a supporting lover and friend in you.

It pains him, though, because with your shared private detective gig during the day, the only private time he gets to enjoy with you happens at night, but sometimes inspiration hits him like the blasted Orient Express and he cannot do anything to stop it—so he spends his nights writing.

You can stop him from working, though. You’ve done it before. Long story short, it worked, and he paid much attention to you that night.

Tonight, however, you’re being very indulging and declared that you’ll retire for the night earlier after showering him with a lot of kisses and encouragement for his work. He wanted to cry right then and there because his heart is so full and you are so sweet.

So he vows to quickly get the words out of his brain and be done with it. Then he can snuggle with you in bed. Or maybe do something more. Bloody hell, he really can’t get his mind out of the gutter sometimes.

As he writes page after page, he can’t help but think that if anything, you’re the one providing him with inspiration. The adventures he shares with you are one thing, but the things you say and do knock him out of his socks sometimes. Arthur smiles, his mind remembering every little thing you’ve said to him that has become the fuel to his writing.

He swears you’re going to turn him into a romance novelist.

When the night is dark cobalt blue and the moon is high, Arthur feels the soreness on his wrist and decides that he’s at a good stopping point for the night. Stretching and yawning and ridding himself of his tortoise-shell spectacles, he looks over to you, lying in bed...

...with Vic on your stomach.

Vic. On your stomach.

A loving hand sitting atop the dog’s belly (Vic sleeps on his back with his legs curled, like a weird old man), rising and falling with each gentle breath. Your lips are slightly parted, wisps of hair falling on your face.

Arthur gasps, covering his mouth in the process. Heavens, look at this—this—this picturesque, sweetest thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon! Where did the dog even come from?

Looking at his room door, he realizes it’s not completely closed, and he curses to nobody about nothing in particular. With long strides he crosses the room to close it and quickly returns to his bed, ready to join the cutest snoozefest he’s ever had the honor of joining.

Despite his best attempts to be as discreet as possible when situating himself on his bed, you stir, as if you’ve been waiting for this moment. He grins while watching consciousness slowly wash over you, though not fully. 

“Are you done with work, darling?”

God help and forgive him! He thoroughly enjoys that husky tone of your voice, still not completely awake. He presses a silencing kiss to your lips and presses his body closer to yours. Vic wakes up too, but only to reposition himself at the space atop your head, this time curling up into a ball before falling asleep.

“You made me jealous,” Arthur whispers, and you giggle.

“Vic gets lonely sleeping alone, too,” you reply, letting Arthur wound you into his arms. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before pulling the sheets to cover both your bodies.

“Who gave you both permission to be so bloody cute, huh?”  

[juminly]

i saw that you were doing matchups and omg they are so amazing??? Couldnt help but want 1 for myself hehe, you're such an amaizng writer and you deserve all the recognition you get 💖 may i request an ikevamp matchup?? Thank you so much!! And i hope you're staying healthy and drinking enough water hehe 💖

La Vie en Rose 

PS: The melody of this song captures the sound of the love he feels for you and how peaceful his heart becomes, even when it’s shadowed by the burdens of his past. You can listen to it while you read the below: Gymnopédie No. 3, Lent et Grave by Erik Satie. It was a pleasure writing this matchup story for you 💜

Context: When you arrived at the mansion, anyone could see on your face that you were overwhelmed. There was so much to take in and grasping the idea that you ended up in a mansion filled with vampires wasn’t easy at all. It wasn’t some sort of fantasy, it was reality and you had to accept. In order to make the process easier for you, Sebastian had given you a tour of the mansion, told you about the ins and outs of everything around, while you met the residents one by one. (all under Le Comte’s request)

Just like he does with all his guests, Le Comte invites you for tea, just to get to know you better. The man is a socialite, an elegant handsome man that is the representation of what a true gentleman should be like.

One of the first thing’s he noticed was your preference for coffee instead of tea. After your first “tea break”, Le Comte actually requested him to buy the best coffee he could find so you could choose what you like the most. Every day after that, Sebastian would come to you with a different type of coffee (and it was a bit hard for you to even choose your favourite because they all taste so good [and definitely expensive as hell]).

Le Comte enjoyed being around you in any way he could. He invited you for breakfast and also walked around the gardens of the mansion just to learn more about you. His main goal was to make your stay as pleasant as possible and the more time he spent with you, the faster the pieces fell into place. You were vibrant, a shining light that would grow dimmer, at moments. You were human after all, no, everyone had their limits.

He requested that Mozart teach you how to play the piano (although he looked disgruntled and talked about how his time would be wasted on you, deep down, he was happy and later on discovered that his love for playing would be revived when he saw the smile on your face when you would play well) and Leonard to teach you about any other thing that would across your mind [with the support of Isaac when it came to physics and other sciences as well].

He had laid out all the possibilities before you and you had to choose how you wanted to go about things. Everyone respected your freedom and what you wanted to do with your own time, but somehow, they all still managed to keep you preoccupied (there was always something going on somewhere in that mansion). You would create your own schedule, set up lessons and meetings with the other residents that slowly became your friends. It was all part of Le Comte’s plans.

On days where you didn’t have lessons, Le Comte offered to take you to explore the beauty of Paris. He chuckled when he realized how much of a history fanatic you were. (PS: He laughs more often when he’s with you, the melodious sound is so beautiful, enough to turn heads. He finds your sense of humour a bit peculiar but he can’t resist how light his heart feels when he talks to you [Poor man has centuries-worth of burden on  his heart so the sound of his laughter often turns lots of head]).

He saw how your eyes would shine when you see beautiful things around you: dresses, the jewellry, trinkets etc... He starts taking you shopping more often. He loves seeing you change in and out of dresses and imagines you twirling in it, looking like a work of art. But what was even more beautiful were your eyes and smile, showing true happiness (what he yearns for the most but doesn’t think he deserves it).

He invited you to join him at a ball, wanting you to be his partner. He wanted to hold you in his arms, pressing your body against his and dancing with you. But, you didn’t show up. He waited for a good hour at the entrance of the mansion but you were nowhere in sight.

He came to find you, sitting in your bed, crying (and hyperventilating). He was a smart man and he understood that you sometimes just needed your space. He announced himself softly by calling out your name and settling on the edge of your bed. He asked for your hands, so he could hold them and bring your attention to the soft caresses of his fingers against yours, his thumb running smoothly on your skin. He more than treasures the fact that you consider him close enough to let him be by your side in your hardest/darkest of moments.

He would talk you through your tears, his voice almost hypnotizing and soothing while he comforted you. He would look at your wrists and bring them slowly to his lips, pressing soft kiss upon them while murmuring. “You are enough, princess. You are more than enough and I would like you to always remember that. Listen to my voice and ignore all the voices in your head. Whatever your mind is telling, it’s not true. Let me help you calm your heart, sweet one.” And if you were comfortable enough, he would hold you tightly in his arms, until you tears dried and even big spoons you in bed and talks to you to get your mind off things (and later on, apologizes since he shouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed but these were special circumstances).

He absolutely didn’t mind when you cancel all of a sudden and values your wellbeing above anything else. He understands that your emotions can sometimes run high and being around others can be too much to handle.

He is your equilibrium. It’s a weird thing to say but he reels you in when you feel low, when you get angry or succumb to negativity. You remind him of his old self, before becoming the composed and stoic gentleman that everyone knows.

He started planning makeshift balls, just for the two of you, so you could live the experience of the old Parisian of the century. He took it as an opportunity to teach you how to dance, and would serve the most decadent of delicacies just for you.

When the night would settle in and you would still be awake, rummaging in the library or walking around your room, going through the notes you took of your lessons of the day, Le Comte was obviously concerned for your health. He obviously couldn’t force you to sleep but the least he could do was stay up at night with you, keep you company. [When you were just up at night, unable to sleep, Le Comte would play chess/cards with you.] He would ask you about your day, everything that you learned and watch your face light up. He felt special to be able to glimpse this side of you.

(He found you asleep in the library and the music room a few times and carried you to your bed, cradling you gently in his arms [and inhaling the scent of your hair and your skin].

Sebastian started making you decaf coffee at night so you can unwind but still enjoy the taste of coffee in the nighttime. Le Comte was quite strict with his instructions to the butler, informing him that your health came before anything else.

It was a rare occasion when Leonardo would pick up his violin and play alongside Mozart. He heard you sing in the hallway on the way to your room (and he happened to be passing by) and he felt like he was going to lose himself and the world stood still. He could only hear the harsh drumming of his heart in his ears and he had to retire to his room, earlier than usual.

That same night, you were up very late one night and were looking for Le Comte, your nocturnal companion. He was absolutely nowhere to be found. It was weird but you thought maybe you should just leave him be. You happened to find Leonardo on the balcony and asked him if he’d be willing to play some chess with you and he replied without thinking: “Sorry, Cara Mia. You’re my dear friend’s inamorata. I couldn’t possibly take his place. Go find him.” (Leo being the smooth wingman and all)

It was strange that he would say something like that and there was a flurry of feelings bubbling inside of you: confusion, surprise, anticipation and happiness. (you didn’t necessarily understand Italian but you had a feeling you understood what he said)

You went to his room and knocked on his door once, twice and before you knocked the third time, you heard the click of his shoes on the floor. He seemed sad and almost heartbroken, you didn’t understand why he would look like that and the only thought in your mind was to ask him what was wrong. But then he spoke.

Comte: Will you forgive me, dearest one?

Lia: Comte, there’s nothing to forgive. What are you saying?

Comte: I do not want to be responsible for your sorrow… 

Lia: You’ve never done anything to hurt me. You’ve only made me happy… 

Comte: Gods, please.. I have committed a grave mistake. 

Lia: No, Comte. Please tell me… *you stepped closer to him and looked into his beautiful topaz eyes* Whatever it is that you say, I’ll…

He sealed your lips with his own, letting his loving kiss and his strong embrace convey the words he wanted to say. He loved you so deeply and it consumed his thoughts, his heart and soul. He couldn’t get you out of his mind and knew for a fact that if he fell in love with you, he wouldn’t be able to let you go. He would let you make your own decision, whether to return to your own time or not, because that would be the right thing to do. But deep inside, he would beg you, implore you and weep for you to remain by his side. [He had lost a lover before and doesn’t want history to repeat itself. In his mind, his grave mistake was letting his heart take over and become vulnerable in the face of love. However, he was mistaken. His love for you ran deeper and it was not in his control. Whether he guarded himself or not, you were meant for him and your love for him only proved that to him]

When you became lovers and would be alone together, you call him only by his real name. He doesn’t like to have any formalities between you.

The first he noticed a change in your attitude when you got jealous or acted possessive, his eyes widened only for a split second. He couldn’t really believe it. But to ease your qualms, he would do anything to prove your jealousy wrong. (example: if you were at a ball with him or on the streets, he would take your hand and kiss it or even hold you by the waist and lay the most loving of kisses on your lips).

He reassures you and comforts you whenever he sees a particular frown or gleam in your eyes. It’s that look you get when you’re feeling jealous and possessive (and boy, does it make his heart flutter to know that you feel so strongly about him. Although, this man only has eyes for you. You and only you.)

This man is elegance and eloquence personified. But beware of getting on his bad side. He absolutely cannot tolerate anyone touching you or being physically close to you in any kind of way. He would give them the deadliest glare and would have their heart trembling in fear. Any other action or words were unnecessary. This man could turn into a fierce and fearsome killer in a split second if he wanted to.

He finds your love for sweets absolutely adorable and before you were lovers, he was always tempted to lick the cream/jam from the corner of your lips but would only wipe it off with his handkerchief or when he felt bold, when his thumb (and then suck on it).

Kisses of affection: the inside of your hand, your wrists, your shoulder and your hair/head.

He loves playing with your hair, smelling your hair.

And when you told him that you wanted to stay in the past with him, the expression on his face was one that you could never forget. He cradled your face with gentle hands, his eyes shining with emotion and a wistful yet genuine smile drawn on his lips, whispering softly:  “C’est toi pour moi, et moi pour toi pour la vie…”

PS: (he was hinting that he’s willing to turn you into a vampire. Instead of saying “dans la vie”, just like in the song “La Vie en Rose” by Edith Piaf, the fact that he used the expression “pour la vie” means that he was trying to hint at an eternity spent with you.)

(Very) NSFW Ahead ~

Your first time together, you saw a different Comte and it was as if he wasn’t the same man. What you saw was a man who was driven mad by his desire and he was eating you up with his gaze alone. He was gentle with you but it was all very intense. He treated your body like a temple and he worshipped you like it was his last night on earth before claiming you and joining your bodies, making them one. Sweet words never ceased to leave his lips while he kissed down your neck, sucked on your collarbone and tended to each of your breasts, appreciating the curve of your waist and the dip of your stomach, the width of your hips and the curves of your thighs, the shape of your calves and lastly, the honey between your legs. You reigned over his heart and he treated you like the queen that you were. [Things he said to you on that fateful night: “J’ai envie de toi… Mon amour… Je n’ai besoin que de toi… Donnes-moi tout ce que tu es et je vous donnerai le monde en entier… Je ne veux que toi…”]

He loves it when you beg for him so he sometimes overindulges when he prepares your body for him. You would tell him that you’re ready and wet enough to take him but the man is going to push you to your absolute limit before sinking into you. He wanted to  hear you cry out for him and scream his name, beg for his cock to be inside you.

The one time you looked into his molten gold eyes and whispered seductively “Daddy, please take me”, the man paused for a split second before his lips were crashing into yours and he teased your entrance with his tip, coaxing you to call him Daddy again and again before fucking you. (You thanked the heavens that the resident gentleman of the mansion was such a Daddy behind closed doors [lucky you!)]. 

He loves it when you tie him up and edge him. He wants to ache for you. 

He loves pleasuring you and being pleasured by you. He is a generous giver but also willing to take whatever he can from you and sometimes, aggressively does so (if he’s in a Daddy wants to punish you mood, your mouth is going to be doing lots of work and your body will be wrecked by the end of the night). 

This man’s dirty talk wants to make you weep from its poetic/romantic/eloquent essence. Let me remind you, this man writes smut poetry about you and letters to you (this should be canon). He writes poetry/letters for you and makes you read them while he’s making love to you. With each line you read to him, he’ll come up with another one that makes you melt even more. It’s dirty, it’s filthy but it’s obscenely loving, erotic and romantic. Every time your voice hitches or you lose your breath, he’ll thrust into you harder, making you cry out. “I’m not going to let you cum until you’re finished reading it all, ma belle.” 

His voice is erotic and loves it when you have sessions where you just watch each other pleasures yourselves. Mutual masturbation is one of his kinks and boy, his sultry sexy voice is too arousing and being under the heat of his gaze, you’re a goner. 

Your lover is vocal but he’s not loud though. He voices the pleasure he feels with a range of whiny gasps, sweet moans of your name and rough groans. 

He will bite you everywhere. Mark you with his kisses, licks, nips and with his release too. He’s tried drinking your blood from every possible place in your body but he prefers to take blood from your neck and lace your fingers together when he does (and if it’s during sex, he’ll thrust his fingers in and out of your mouth, mimicking the movement of his hips or he’s restrain you by locking your wrists above your head). 

He’s a pureblood vampire and has the stamina of a Greek God [and looks like you too]. But that doesn’t necessarily apply to you. When you’re feeling lazy, he’ll hold you against him, your back against his chest and allow him to roam your body with his fingers. He’d slip his cock inside you and you both indulge in intimacy you’re basking in. Sometimes, you just want to appreciate each other’s bodies and feel warmth [and he likes to feel your pulse and see the sight of your flushed skin under his touch]. At times, he would roll his hips in languid strokes/thrust inside of you while his fingers that had touched the sweetness dripping between your legs, would press into your mouth and you suck on him lazily. 

Rousing the competitive spirit in you, you had no idea that he had a thing for bets and gambling. What was at stake? Your body or his. He would play strip poker with you and the person who would be completely stripped off their clothes first loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser. Absolutely anything.

All the things he loves to do to/with you in front of the mirror… Hngh..

He’d whisper in your ear and make you look into his eyes while you ride his thigh, while he’s unbuttoning his chemise while keeping one hand on your waist or on your breast (caressing your soft mounds or teasing your nipples). 

When facing the mirror, he usually takes you from behind so you can see every single inch of your body that he plans on touching, caressing and he’ll tease you by letting his cock glide between your lips, stimulate your sensitive bud of nerves just enough to make you tremble and scream out of frustration by not enough for you to reach your climax. And when he’s ready to take you, he’ll grip the back of your knee and spread your knees wide, so you can see how wet you are for him and he’ll remind and ask you, multiple times before he thrusts inside you. “Who’s your Daddy? Hm? Are you going to beg for my cock like the naughty little girl that you are? Tell me how much you want me inside you…” He’ll take you hard and fast, slow and gentle and let you watch his cock thrust in and out of you, ultimately filling you up with his release, his scent all over you and his mark dripping from you.

If you were the one taking control, he loves to watch you slowly undress him in front of the mirror, kiss and mark his neck with love bites and stroke his large cock in your hands (teasing him and edging him) and make him see how he looks like when he loses himself to you. 

Kinks: anything you’re into. This man aims to please and he’s a goddamn vampire. He’s seen the world and most probably tried everything. Praise kink (praising you), Body worship, mutual masturbation, overstimulation and mirror sex would be on the top of his list. He wants you trembling and begging.

Runner-up Suitor: Arthur Conan Doyle! It was such a close race but Mr. Le Comte won! ;) (I hope he won your heart too, after this)

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 14 OF 22

... I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out. Yes, desire is so different when God bore you hungry. I could have devoured anything and still have been starving. In one version of our story the fruit is in your chest. David, I eat it anyway. O, I know nothing but to take & keep taking. 

- Belovéd, Yves Olade

--

Something in their world shifts.

She hadn’t exactly formally talked it out with Vincent, but it’s somehow settled that she would be there for him to talk to whenever he had something about his exhibit that he wanted to discuss. It was different to have someone on “neutral ground”—someone who wasn’t Theo, who wasn’t carrying the weight of having to bear everything else for the exhibit to happen. And Theo doesn’t mind sharing the space with Vincent with her, either. ‘

It starts simple. A little group chat with Theo (although he rarely responds to the messages) and Vincent to toss ideas, throw little inspirational things. On Friday afternoons, when her schedule is a little more open, she sometimes visits the van Gogh house to check on Vincent and what he’s done so far. She helps him with the expressions on his models, gives him insight into what a viewer would think of the painting. Having been born and raised in this place, she gives the best advice on what places would have the best views to paint, where it would be possible to go outside and sketch and draw.

The exhibit slowly comes into shape.

Theo helps Vincent with the technicals: looking for a place to set it up, preparing the documents for the panel, buying the art materials, providing some comments for half-finished works. She helps Vincent with the storyline: drawing out his story of the little boy with paint seeping out of her hands, leaving a trail of art wherever he goes. How the world changes with every bit of it he touches.

But most importantly, they make sure they are there for Vincent, constantly nudging him in the direction he wants to go but is sometimes too hesitant to.

The final exams roll in with the same kind of raucousness as the midterms did, but there is a quiet kind of understanding between her and Theo that is different from the last time. The gang—she, Theo, Arthur, and Dazai—gathers to study together that pre-finals week, but it’s as if it’s only her and Theo around.

She peers up from what she’s writing on her notebook and when she finds Theo staring, she smiles up at him and he turns away with a grumble at being caught even if he knew he would. When he has his glasses on and is busy reviewing something on his computer, his eyes running left and right over pages of notes, she observes the way the feeble sun shines weak gold over his deep honey-colored hair, soft and likely gentle to the touch—and he lets her.

Arthur, of course, has something he wants to say, but this time he’s smart enough to hold it in, Dazai nudging him gently with his elbow, knowing it would be the worst shame to interrupt the little world she and Theo are in.

It is only once final exams have finished that the preparation for the exhibit rolls into full force for the brothers. Both Theo’s hours at the bookshop and Vincent’s hours at the café lessens as the university rolls into holiday mode, and now more than ever is Vincent working non-stop at his paintings, like they’re burning to get out of him.

Vincent now has time to get out his art.

And Theo—Theo has time to dream about the future.

And dreaming about the future.

Just in time for Christmas.

--

“Hey Arthur, what should I get Theo?”

She and Arthur are sitting at the Little Owl, waiting for Dazai to arrive. The two lovebirds were having their Christmas date early, because this year, Arthur is coming home to his family, likely to mooch for money. She intended to say no at first—after all, this is their date, regardless of whatever label they had for whatever was going on between the two of them—but upon the realization that Dazai was not only picky with food (and also had great taste) but also footing the bill, ‘yes’ was the only possible option.

Besides, Arthur wasn’t taking no for an answer, and she had to wrestle herself out of his original condition that she could only come if she was bringing Theo along, like a double date.

Arthur looks up from the little crossword puzzle he was solving on the café’s shared newspaper. “A kiss,” he answers without missing a beat. “Twenty, maybe. That might soften him.”

“Arthur.”

“Oh, he uses that exact tone on me too, little miss. Very uncanny.”

“I’m not giving him a kiss,” she sighs, turning her head back to her notebook, with the scribbled list of people and items next to their names. “You’re the worst person to ask.”

Arthur puts on a faux-offended face. “I’m only telling you what he’d appreciate the most.”

“Okay, smarty,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m just trying to get everyone Christmas presents.”

“You’re getting him something for Christmas?” Arthur’s eyes are wide in genuine surprise.

“I’m getting you something too!”

He hums. “Is that so. Entirely normal, platonic gifts.”

“Arthur!” she pouts. “I swear, there’s no bigger meaning to it. I like giving gifts for Christmas. It’s kind of routine at this point.”

“So you’re getting Vincent a gift too.”

“Of course.”

“And I, Dazai, and Isaac.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “What, I have to give you a full list of who I’m giving gifts to for Christmas?”

“Yes,” Arthur says, tapping her nose with a pen. She scrunches up her nose in response. “Checking for fairness.”

“Fairness?!” she looks at him pointedly. “Look, you’re just fishing for clues that I’ll get Theo something—” she raises her fingers to make air quotes, “—‘more meaningful’ and ‘more valuable’ than the rest of you guys as a clue to whatever the hell your theory is.”

“It’s not a theory, little bird, it’s an observation,” Arthur says, with a laugh. “The fact that you still refuse to say what my theory is out loud is really telling, you know?”

“No, it’s because it’s not true.”

“What is not true?”

“Your theory.”

“Which is?”

Which is that I’ve entirely fallen in love with Theo and I don’t want to admit it because I’m afraid of what happens after that and if I own up to it. It’s not true at all. Not even the littlest bit.

Why would she be afraid of something she loves?

Not her, no. She’s the kind of person who runs toward what she wants.

This doesn’t make any sense.

She sighs. “Why did I even ask you. This is pointless. I’ll ask Vincent instead.”

“Oh, but he wouldn’t know what our dearest Theo would want,” Arthur hums. “He’s hard to give gifts to.”

“Wait, ‘our’?” she begins to argue, but then shakes her head. “Never mind. How are you claiming more knowledge than Vincent? Theo hates your guts.”

“Because he knows I know him.”

“That means he hates my guts too.”

“He does.”

She sighs. There’s not much point arguing with Arthur oftentimes—the best way is to surrender and then just try and figure out a way out of the mess one had walked into afterward. “Okay, fine. What is it that he’d appreciate getting for Christmas?”

Arthur grins. “You owe me one?”

She groans. She knows she will regret this deeply like she did the last time, but—“I do! Now ‘fess up!”

--

The holiday season in their university town is quiet. Much quieter, at least, than on regular school season. Most of the students go back to their hometowns after the exams, and the streets get quieter and quieter the closer it is to Christmas. Stores that used to be open most of the day open later and close earlier; cafés and libraries and emptier; the streets are less crowded. The hustle and bustle become muted and more peaceful.

Theo likes being on campus around this time of year because it’s different from the usual. Before Theo attended the university, when Vincent was the only one out here, his brother used to come home for the holidays. But ever since Theo came here, and the entire incident with Vincent’s graduation and his project came into light, they hadn’t gone home—mostly to save the money, but also because it doesn’t… feel right to go home back yet.

That’s alright. It’s not as if it’s lonely out here in late December.

Not all students go home. Arthur goes home—he says it’s for a sweetheart who has “long been missing him”, but they all know better. Dazai and Isaac stay a little longer than the other students do, but they go home as well. But Vincent and Theo stay.

And so does she.

It’s a beautiful city to spend the winter in, after all.

Like most places, there’s a little holiday culture of its own in the town as well. A student representative council gathers early in December to arrange a gigantic potluck-slash-party at around noon on the 24th, where students who have stayed get to hang out with everyone else who is still there to share some Christmas cheer. The event is usually held at the Grove, which means there’s also space to ice skate. Some vendors are invited to sell their wares of Christmas food as well—and of course, alcohol is included. Speakers are installed and Christmas music, both lively and more romantic, play throughout the course of the party. Those who sign in earlier get to join in an exchange gift affair at the latter part of it too. There’s also a raffle for little gifts and prizes. And of course, there’s the snowball fight. It’s a small, homey event, and many students actually decide to stay on campus for this particular party.

Every year, Theo is pretty neutral about the potluck.

Every year, Vincent wants to go. So Theo always comes with him.

And this year… Vincent is inviting her too.

--

He considers getting her a pack of highlighters.

He doesn’t know much about the world of stationery and fancy studying materials, but there’s a certain brand of fancy highlighters he sees a lot around campus. They’re not the easiest brand to get, according to his research, but if he orders it soon it might just make it on time.

Or maybe a fountain pen?

Fountain pens are classy. And thoughts have been given on them, so he knows it’s not a bad shot. He isn’t quite sure what kind, though, what brand, and maybe he could get one that’s the exact same model and brand as his, but isn’t that a little too obvious? He doesn’t want to be too obvious. He doesn’t want it to be obvious at all, or even known.

A book, perhaps, might be the best option, then.

Books have been an integral part of their… relationship, anyway. No other meaning to that. If there is anything to be read about that, then that’s not on him, is it? That makes this entire process simpler. He’ll just need to drop by the bookstore, check the stocks, pick up the most mundane and boring poetry book—the lamest, the worst, why would he give something meaningful—and then get a gift bag, maybe some wrapping paper—

Theo is so deep in his thoughts he doesn’t catch Vincent entering the room, even as the door behind his older brother closes with a click. The look on Theo’s face—furrowed brows, tense shoulders, the light in his eyes—makes Vincent smile just the tiniest bit.

The sound of his voice shakes Theo out of his reverie.

“Have you chosen what to get her?” Vincent asks, providing no context. He doesn’t need to. He knows his brother well, and he even turns away from Theo to lessen the blow, pretending to look for something in his bedside drawer.

 “I’m not getting her anything,” Theo scoffs weakly, his frown deepening as the tips of his ears turn bright red.

--

Sometime around noon of the 24th, the three of them meet at the plaza to join the potluck. The brothers bring cupcakes—“I didn’t know you baked, Vincent!” “It wasn’t me, it was Theo.” “Oh?”—and she brings some spaghetti, and the rest of the table is overflowing with food to eat. Everyone is dressed in shades of gold, red, green, and white. Music plays through the speakers attached to the streetlights.

Her face kind of hurts with how big she’s smiling.

She doesn’t hate life on the campus, no, but it’s become monotone, a little too uninteresting that leaves her on edge. It’s exactly why she was so eager to get on with Arthur’s dare and get to know Theo in the first place—she had that sense that maybe it would bring her somewhere new, somewhere fascinating. The only exception to the otherwise boring campus life is on big events like this holiday party, and the feeling is something she can’t get enough of.

The party goes just about as one would expect—her, pulling Vincent around by the elbow getting him to try all the different kinds of food laid out (“No, no, I couldn’t possibly eat anymore—” “Just one more bite! Just one!”); her, pulling Theo by the wrist to join her and Vincent in ice-skating (“I’m not interested.” “You have no say in the matter!”); and then, of course, Theo, pelting her right in the face with a snowball (the most annoyed pout she can muster, together with “Oh you want war, then you’re getting it!”)

It is already four in the afternoon when the three of them make it out of the hubbub. Theo is walking with his hands in his pockets, humming along to one of the Christmas songs now aggressively stuck in his head after having heard it at least 60 times in the past four hours. She teases him about it and he frowns about it, but he’s still humming.

“I ate too much!” she whines, clutching her stomach pitifully as they walked. “Absolutely no regrets though. I love Christmas potluck, but this year was just crazy.”

Vincent laughs. “You really shouldn’t have gotten that last pretzel,” he chides.

“But it was so good! I don’t know where they sourced that cinnamon, but it made me cry.”

Theo snorts. “You cried?”

“I did, I don’t understand how one wouldn’t,” she sighs. “Theo, you were just too into your chocolate-topped-with-caramel-topped-with-strawberries-topped-with—” she takes a breath, “—diabetes cake thing. Why was that even allowed to exist.”

“You just have no taste,” Theo says, but it has no venom in it.

She grins. “Neither do you.”

“That makes us even.”

She should be going home by now—the sun will be setting soon, and she’d rather not be walking home in the dark in the snow—but her little apartment building is rather empty for the holidays, and it can get quite lonely when the rest of the campus is still celebrating. It’s a good thing she doesn’t need to tell the brothers for them to understand, and they let her walk with them all the way back to their little house, the one she’s been in so often in the past few months, it kind of feels like a second home too.

“Hot chocolates?” Vincent asks once they’ve made it through the threshold with matched sighs, hanging his coat by the rack. She whoops and cheers.

“Yes please!” she says, “I’ll choose a movie!”

Christmas has never really been a special holiday to her in the past. Sure, it’s enjoyable, and involves a lot of food and gifts, the questionable-if-enjoyable company of a lot of family members, sometimes even distantly extended ones, and most of the sense of the holiday is about its commercialized form instead of the actual religious holiday, giving it an alienating feeling, but—

This year it’s a little different.

Feels a little different.

Not quite like the usual.

Not when she’s snuggled under a blanket, Theo in between her and Vincent, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands, Klaus on the TV. Not when it’s been a long semester of burning the midnight oil studying and working so hard, and then suddenly it feels like it’s okay to rest.

Rest in this place that lets her curl up warmly in its softness.

And sure, maybe some things feel the same, familiar, like Theo’s nose, scrunched up because he’s taking the movie a little too seriously, or Vincent’s sunny smile, or Arthur’s text message in her phone of [ no mistletoe? 🎄 ]—but it’s different.

The longing tearing at her heart, she begins to be sure that she’ll miss this.

It’s not home but she’s sure if one day she will ever find it, it will probably feel like this.

They sit around the living room talking to each other even after the movie ends, and by the time it truly feels like the day has settled down around them, the sun is long out of the sky. Slowly, the sinking feeling that she had overstayed her welcome begins to crawl over her, once Vincent brings their now-empty mugs onto the kitchen sink. She straightens up at her seat, nervously fidgeting next to the mountain of blankets separating her and Theo on the couch.

And then suddenly, she remembers.

“Oh, but before the night ends—”

She digs into her bag and pulls out a small gift, wrapped with a yellow ribbon. Vincent returns to the living area just at the right moment, so she hands the present to Vincent. “Merry Christmas, Vincent! It’s not much, but I hope it proves helpful for your current project.”

He doesn’t know it yet, but it’s a box of fresh paints, the brand he uses. Not in as wide an array of colors of what he does have, but still a good number. She made sure to check which ones he used the most.

“You didn’t have to!” he says, summer sun in his smile. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, Vincent, of course,” she says. And then, she pulls out another thing—turning towards Theo as she hands him a box, neatly held together with starry wrapping paper and a sheer white ribbon. “Merry Christmas, Theo. Thanks for everything this year.”

Vincent chuckles at the look of surprise on Theo’s face. Theo looks back at his brother, betrayed.

But he doesn’t have much time for that, because the gift is hovering in between him and her awkwardly. He takes it and mumbles a soft, “Um, thanks.”

She blinks. “Do you not want it?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Surprises are good this time of year,” she says. Grins when she catches the tips of Theo’s ears already pink. Vincent spots it too and laughs, as he reaches out from underneath their little Christmas tree to hand them some gifts as well.

By the heft of it, she guesses what’s inside her wrapped present is a small painting; she beams at Vincent and throws him an embrace in thanks. Vincent gifts Theo a gray sweater with a reindeer on it, the kind of gift one would receive from their grandmother instead of their brother, but Theo quickly puts it over his shirt excitedly anyway.

She wonders why Theo hasn’t opened her gift to him yet.

Vincent manages to say up to half of “And what about you, Theo?” when Theo quickly gets up on his feet, saying, “I should walk you home,” pointing at the clock on the wall. Solidly eight at night. Not that late, really, but—there’s no good overstaying. Her heart drops a little but she nods anyway.

“Yeah, I should,” she agrees. “Thank you for today, Vincent.”

He beams. “Of course. Come join us anytime.”

Theo holds the gift box she had given him under his arm and turns to her. “Ready in 5?”

“Yup, I just need to go to the restroom,” she says. “I’ll be back.”

She clears her head quickly in the bathroom. She doesn’t know when she started to get so riled up whenever Theo walked her home—late evenings at the van Goghs on Fridays spent talking about the exhibit has made it a common affair—but tonight, her heart is hammering in her chest somehow. It’s been a normal day. Nothing’s different, she convinces herself, so there’s no need for all these theatrics and heart acrobatics.

When she gets out to the foyer, she catches Theo leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his coat, and—

The deep blue scarf around his neck.

The one she chose for him.

Arthur said the best gift to give Theo is one he will be able to use, but—

She hadn’t imagined seeing it in use would leave her dry of words, too.

“Let’s go?”

She pretends the flush in her face is due to the sudden cold. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The walk home isn’t entirely quiet. She checks her phone and shows him the photos of Christmas eve the rest of their friends have sent them, in the group chat Theo never checks because he’s just not that kind of guy. Then they talk about the party, her profusely accusing Theo of attempted murder for having hit her right on target at the face pretty hard with that snowball. And then, they turn toward talking about the exhibit, and Vincent, and the upcoming year and—

Talk like this, about the little things, like they usually do.

The comforting usuals of their friendship.

Nothing different. Nothing new.

Just the usual.

Finally, after 20 minutes she wanted to last forever, they make it to her apartment complex. They bid goodbye at the entrance. She’s just about turned around to leave when she feels the warmth of his fingers around her wrist, pulling her back.

“Theo?” “Hondje," they call to each other at the same time.

He hands a small, wrapped box he’s kept underneath his coat towards her.

“For you.”

She blinks. Oh, if Arthur could have seen their mirrored expressions from their exchange of gifts, he would have laughed so loudly. “What is this?”

He narrows her eyes at her, as if she said something stupid. “A gift.”

“I mean—” she begins, but then just chuckles. “I mean thanks. This means a lot.”

“Don’t think about it too hard. Rest well,” he says, the following syllables of her name just light on his lips. The sound of it makes her nerves flutter. She holds onto the gift box in her hand tightly instead, as if making sure it’s there. That this is real. Theo gives her a look like she’s transparent. “You’re always welcome at the house. No matter how long you stay. Merry Christmas.”

A smile creeps up on her face uncontrollably. “Merry Christmas too, Theo.”

She waves goodbye to him and watches him disappear off the corner before she runs upstairs to go to her room—to shut the door behind her and take a deep breath. She shrugs her coat off, tucks the mittens inside the pockets.

Puts the little box she’d been holding so carefully, still warm from Theo’s coat, along with her little wrapped painting from Vincent, underneath the small makeshift Christmas tree sitting on her kitchen counter.

Earlier that day, Theo had slipped a note in between the pages of a poetry book—on an old receipt he’d scribbled on at the back, which said: thanks for helping my brother out. thought our little miss ‘love is the answer to all of the world’s problems’ would enjoy a bit of e.e. cummings.

And tomorrow, first thing on Christmas morning, sipping on hot chocolate with sugar marshmallows on top, she will open the box and find the note and grin widely. And, in a reversal of her usual, she will make herself comfortable on the couch, overlooking the window, the falling snow, and read the book slowly, investing her heart in each syllable. Listening to every sound in her head. Carrying each word gently, taking her time.

Dipping her feet lightly into the book. Relishing in the curve of the words on her lips as she reads—words Theo chose and wrapped into a gift, then given to her.

[jjuzoir]

How about flirting/dating/marriage headcanons for Theo, Arthur and Napoleon from Ikevamp? *w* thamks a lot luv! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

took me some time due to me not knowing theo too well;;: hahaha, ne way thank you for waiting!

————🌷————

Flirting/Dating/Marriage: Theo + Arthur + Napoleon;

—(🌱

-Napoleon-

flirting;

- You two hit it off particularly well, especially after he attempted to guide you to safety the night you arrived.

- So flirting came naturally to you two, what once started out as a game of who could make the other more flustered rapidly became an attempt to let the other know of the others’ feelings.

- He was quite daring, you’d have to admit that after a few weeks of flirting he started becoming more adventurous with his displays.

- Napoleon would rarely go for the cheap pick up lines, he’d rather gift you thought out compliments he’d know you’d accept.

- His favorite part of flirting with you, however, were the quick and clever remarks and how when he’d hit a particularly well spot you’d blush and quickly leave the room.

- His flirting involves teasing, quick and witty remarks, sarcasm, and lots of sincerity.

- Although a bit of a jester, Napoleon always makes certain to make his intentions with you clear; possibly, if you ever do feel the same, to have a relationship with you.

dating;

- Dating Napoleon is as easy as it is to breathe.

- Once he asks you out it doesn't really feel like anything new, simply putting a label on what came naturally.

- Though you had to admit he’d finally let himself loose now, he’d be more open about his gratitude and admiration for you and the work you did.

- Believe it or not, Mr. Bonaparte sometimes does wake up early but stays inside the bed in hopes of being able to steal a quick morning kiss.

- Enjoys taking you out on strolls of the city and showing you places you’d never seen before.

- He takes a lot of pride in being a soldier so you’ll never have to fear being unsafe when it comes to him.

marriage;

- When he asked you to marry him you had no second thoughts before shouting yes with all your heart.

- The wedding was magical, out of a children’s fairytale.

- Once you did arrive home, you two decided to quickly move out and near the mansion.

- You two open up a small school for less-fortunate kids where Isaac and Arthur help teach too.

- Napoleon makes it a habit of waking up and getting ready together.

- Loves cooking with you on rainy days and he truly enjoys being able to sit down with you while you chatted about god know what.

- Your relationship doesn’t change much, except that nowadays he rarely finds himself doubting his own humanity anymore.

—(🌱

-Theo-

flirting;

- At first you were sure he disliked you or held an unknown grudge against you, but slowly with some work and time he began opening up.

- Mostly thanks to your love for Vincent’s art.

- For outsiders, your flirting may sound more like insulting but you two make sure to never cross that line.

- Tends to blush very deeply when you compliment him out of nowhere but covers it with some arrogant comment.

- Gets shocked when you flirt with him for the first time with no teasing in between though, you almost killed him.

- Calls you pet-names in dutch quite often.

- Enjoys tanking about art with you, so expect him to add stupid little nods to artistic culture and him calling you a “stupid hondje” for not getting it.

- Overall, very smooth but there are times where even you shock and fluster him.

dating;

- When you two started dating it felt extremely natural.

- Even if you two found yourselves disagreeing there was never once an argument that couldn’t be solved with some good old talking.

- Enjoys taking you out so you could see art exhibitions from artists he enjoys, he also likes being able to take you with him when he goes out for work.

- You make the long carriage rides more tolerable.

- Enjoys eating your pancakes for breakfast so much, the way to get him to comply with you is to promise him a thick and tall tower of pancakes with syrup.

- Still a major tease, though he tends to not call you hondje or any sort of dog-related name old habits die hard.

- Likes being around you a lot.

marriage;

- When he asked you to marry him you felt honored so there was no hesitation on your part.

- The wedding was actually small, originally he only wanted to invite Vincent but you convinced him to invite the other guests.

- Cried a lot the day after the wedding.

- Hates being alone so now that you two are together he doesn’t really need to fear that anymore.

- You two don’t move out until a few years married and so you bought a house big enough for you three; Theo, Vincent, and you.

- When Theo isn’t around you, not very often, he leaves you with Vincent.

- He melts when he receives a painting of you made by his older brother.

- He works late into the night, so you often surprise him with warm pancakes.

- Likes taking the weekends off and spending them with you and taking you out on dates.

- You three do go to the mansion quite often too.

- Is awfully sweet and caring in his own, sometimes silly and cold, way.

—(🌱

-Arthur-

flirting;

- Flirting is like second nature for a guy like Conan (yes, I will refer to him by both of names, no I won’t stop).

- It’s not that he has to actively try and flirt with people, he’s just a natural charming guy.

- So when you two begin flirting after the incident (which should’ve taken you some time to come to terms with), you have a hard time trying to make out if he means it or not.

- So, just for the sake of it you reciprocated the feeling.

- He goes for the cheesy one liners he knows such but make you laugh, that plus the genuine compliment shoved in the sandwich and that’s his style baby.

- Doesn’t get flustered easily unless he can feel the genuineness from the compliment, then he short circuits like a robot dumped in water.

- Won’t touch you without your consent (surprising considering that stunt he pulled; I’m still mad).

- Knows your buttons as well as he knows he looks hot in glasses; very fucking well.

dating;

-. At first it was hard to understand if he wanted to date you or if you were going to be another one hit wonder with him.

- But soon he realized that you were more than just a one time thing, and when he does he fully throws himself deeply in the relationship.

- Very thoughtful once he realizes he’s fallen for you.

- Loves spoiling you with clothes and shoes, and if you’re not into that he’d love to do so too with other materials used for your hobbies.

- Romantic, very romantic.

- Likes calling you pet-names but especially darling for some reason.

- Hates serious situations so he will divert them with humor.

- Funny dude, overall.

- Takes you out of the town very often and likes taking you over europe.

- Would love to adopt another dog with you tbh.

- Asks you to tell him stories from the future to inspire him for his stories.

- Arthur’s also surprisingly open with his feelings after a while, he enjoys being able to unwind to you after a hard day.

- Spends less time in the pubs, he’d rather spend his nights with you.

marriage;

-. Overall a very chill and lowkey wedding believe it or not.

- You two moved out near the mansion and probably have a small detective spot you guys help around the city.

- You two became a well-known duo and grew close to the police force.

- The house you two would have would probably sport a very big backyard.

- Loves having coffee with you in the mornings.

- Matching outfits and shit it’s almost annoyingly sweet.

- Arthur enjoys taking walks with you and the dogs.

- Probably doesn’t want kids, he’d rather you two be known as the cool older friends to other people’s kids.

- You two are kind of friends before you’re a couple, you know?

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop's most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo's pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 3 OF 22

“You started a book club with her?”

Arthur is dumbstruck. But he’s also dumb for having admitted that he was, in fact, listening in on her and Theo’s conversation at the counter, so now he’s nursing a headache from where his head met the wall when Theo had pushed a stack of books on top of him after she had walked away. Of course he was fully aware of where his co-worker was hiding all this time.

Theo crosses his arms and sighs. “It’s not a book club.”

“What?” Arthur cackles. “Care to explain that, when you’re doing exactly what book clubs do? Read books and share them with each other?”

“‘Clubs’ imply more than two people,” Theo answers, trying to keep his voice even when he, too, knows the reasoning is faulty at best.

“With the number of heart eyes she’s got for you, it ought to count as another person.”

Theo sighs. “Arthur, I’m going to ask you a favor.”

“You know the cost of that.”

“Yes, so let me owe you one, and shut the fuck up.”

“Aww, buddy—”

Theo’s expression shifts into something menacing.

“Arthur.”

-

Theo wishes it were just a book club.

That way, all they will have to do is talk about books and maybe engage in some intellectual discussion about said books. Then they go home.

But it’s more than just a book club.

(This is the beginning of Theo learning that it’s always ‘more than’ when she’s involved.)

It’s Saturday now, and Theo has just gotten out of his 3-hour long lecture. It’s considered to be one of the more complicated, higher-level business classes in his course, but…Theo doesn’t really have any strong feelings about it. It’s okay. It’s the second to the last subject he’ll have to take before he can finally proceed to his thesis-writing class… and Theo is rather eager to get this finished already.

…Well, no, he’d rather focus on helping his brother out since he can, since Vincent comes above all things, but the one agreement for him to keep his scholarship despite not taking a full load of units is that he had to take at least three units—one subject—each semester. He wasn’t going to say no to the demands of a scholarship and free tuition, so he takes a subject once a week—on his day off from work—and takes the rest of the day recovering from the long week of working retail.

But that’s about to change.

He doesn’t know what he’d done to end up in this position—well, maybe he does, and what he did was agree to work with Arthur, of all people—but now he’s here. Instead of relaxing on a Saturday afternoon, he’s picked up under his “care”—or whatever one would like to call it—a rather eccentric literature department girl, and there’s no turning back from that. Once she texts Vincent (not him, because why would he be giving away his phone number like that?)—

[ 2:38 ] Hi Vinny! Can you tell Theo I’ll meet him at the Grove at 4?

he knows he’s got no choice but to follow through with his word.

Unfortunately for him.

(And fortunately for his curiosity.)

It’s the first official day of the book club; the only agenda is to swap books. For the very first book, they’d agreed to read a wildcard from the other, any book they’d want the other to read. He’d considered two possible options—either giving her a book that’s entirely for the joke of it, one that he’s either neutral to or did not particularly enjoy; or giving her a book that’s genuinely interesting to some degree or another. He’d flipped a coin—and gotten tails—so he’s got slung under his arm his copy of Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens.

“Theo! I’m over here!”

She waves from underneath the shade of a tree. Her dark brown hair falls in gentle curls, tied half-up with a ribbon as it always is. She’s wearing a cream top and a long brown skirt, matching with the rest of the place. And she’s even laid a picnic mat down. That… was not part of his expectations. He shakes his head and sighs a little as he heads toward her.

She cocks her head to the side. “What’s with that expression? Don’t want to spend time with me?”

“No,” he answers bluntly, though it doesn’t sound that true.

She laughs the same way Arthur does when he figures Theo out. Theo begins to have a growing dread of what kind of “friendship” he’s building with this girl—and how maybe Arthur had planned all of this to begin with: a partner to bring Theo into misery. “C’mon now, take a seat. It’s a great fall afternoon.”

And true, it is.  It’s still rather early in the season so it’s not too cold, but the campus is already beginning to fill in with the classic fall colors. There’s a wind that’s gently passing by, shuffling the strands of her hair that’s tied half-up rather neatly.

The Grove is, despite its name, not in fact a grove, but rather an open park in the middle of campus, surrounded and dotted by large trees that serve as great shade in the summer and also rather beautiful in the fall. There are benches and tables here and there, allowing it to be a great spot to study for the students, but it truly is a different experience to hang out there with a picnic mat, looking up at the blue sky—whether in the day or at the night. The Grove is also one of the quieter portions of the campus, which, Theo begrudgingly agrees, makes it a good place to hold discussions about books.

“Aren’t we just going to exchange books?” Theo asks, but he’s already heading down toward the very classic red and white checkered picnic mat.

Her voice is undeniably disappointed. “Wait, you were serious about not wanting to spend time with me?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Besides make friends? No. It’s a Saturday.”

She’ll be at the bookshop tomorrow again anyway, as she is every Sunday… he could have just given her the book then, and vice versa. Did she invite him all the way here just to… hang out with him?

Oh boy, what did Theo get into? 

“You really should find a better hobby,” Theo says, as he takes a seat a foot away from her on the mat. She’s leaning on her wrists, her arms behind her, looking up at the clear fall sky, watching the clouds. She grins when she hears it but doesn’t turn toward him.

“Did you know,” she begins, “that’s also exactly what Arthur told me when I said it’s probably nice to make friends with you?”

“Arthur says useless stuff a lot of times, but that was the one time you ought to have listened to him.”

She shrugs it off with a laugh before pulling out of her bag a thinly bound volume. “Book exchange?”

They both place the books they’d brought in between both of them. She has offered him a collection of poetry, titled No Matter the Wreckage, by an author named Sarah Kay. He hasn’t read this one. And by the look on her face, as she picks up the Gaiman volume, it seems like she hasn’t read the one he’s brought, either.

“You didn’t seem like the kind of guy who read fantasy,” she comments, as she’s reading the summary on the back page. “Somehow I’m not that surprised though…”

“Gaiman is a good author,” Theo only remarks, hand on the poetry book. “His worldbuilding is rather thorough.” Theo doesn’t read a lot of poetry anymore, but he used to—perhaps this is the time to come back to metaphor and symbol. …Not that business isn’t filled with that stuff as well, all double meanings and reading between the lines. “I’m not surprised you brought me a poetry book.”

“I mean, I’d love if you were to read Les Miserables with me for class, but I figured I wanted something not too aggressive on the brain for this, you know?” she comments. “Why’d you choose Good Omens?”

Okay, he didn’t expect that. But he couldn’t exactly say It was the seventy-fourth one on the shelf, which was the number I got when I ran a random number generator. He answers, instead, “The questions it asks about morality and fate are interesting.”

“I see,” she hums. “I’ve read some Gaiman, but not this one. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

Theo thumbs through the poetry book idly, but not wanting his eyes to land on the poetry yet—he rather enjoys taking his time with books like these. “And why did you choose this one?”

“I like her poetry,” is the simple answer, but when he turns to give her a look, she continues. “The metaphors and symbols aren’t too expansive, too ‘deep’ to unearth, but they give the kind of dreaminess that I like about poetry.”

“That says a lot about you,” Theo snorts, and she pouts at him.

“And your book choice says a lot about you too,” she answers with a grin.

Theo thought he’d want to leave immediately. To hand the book, answer her questions, and then go. Maybe he can catch up and read that Alain de Botton book he didn’t have the heart to finish last week.

But interest had begun to grow in him. He hadn’t had someone so insistent in hanging out with him since he met Arthur. Not that Theo isn’t friendly—he’s part of a few business organizations on campus, although he’s not as active because of work—and he definitely has a handful of friends and acquaintances, but he can just tell it.

That she’s different.

So when she asks him, “Stay with me to read a bit?”, Theo doesn’t even think before he answers, “Okay.”

--

The weeks blur into one another like this. Sundays and Wednesdays, she comes to the bookstore to hang out. Her usual time, too. Arthur’s gotten into joking that maybe her wallet is thanking her now that she doesn’t have to pretend to want to buy something to come, but she does not deny nor confirm this. A lot of the time she does the same things anyway: come in, talk and chat with Arthur and Theo for a bit, and then hide away tucked in between the shelves scouring for books.

And it’s understandable, really, because the Dragon’s Hoard is the bookstore for this campus, after all. None of the other bookstores can compete with it.

If the campus’ most feared and adored physics professor (Isaac Newton) and the campus’ most voracious reader (Dazai Osamu) pledges to the bookstore’s greatness, she has no doubt about it.

(Them being her friends has nothing to do about that. For sure.)

The Dragon’s Hoard is popular on the campus for a few key reasons. One: the students have a discount if they can prove if the books are being bought for class, like in a syllabus or a professor’s official email. It’s not much and depends on what kind of book is being bought, but even a 5% discount on a book worth a month’s rent is already a lot for a struggling student.

Another reason it is popular is that it pretty much has a very actively rotating stock. That is, the books on the shelves constantly change every week, depending on the season or whatever is a hit as of late. (Of course, you can still ask for something in the back, if ever.) Most of the campus bookstores don’t take this much effort in keeping the shelves interesting—or have enough books at all to rotate them—so most of the bookstore connoisseurs (bookstore window-shoppers, really) enjoy coming into the Hoard to browse their books.

But perhaps the most important reason the Hoard is so popular is that the staff are known to be very well-read.

(This is exactly one of the reasons why she’s so interested in getting to drag Theo into a little book exchange.)

Interested in a specific genre but don’t know where to begin? Ask the staff—they’ll have a recommendation for you, tailored to your specific interest. Looking for a book whose plot you vaguely remember but not the title or the author? Ask the staff—they’ll either have it in stock or know it enough to be able to search for it and order it for you. Want to gift a friend a book but don’t quite know what will suit their tastes, and only have the vaguest of clues of what they might like? Don’t worry, ask the staff—they got this.

All of this happens thanks to the skillful eye of the bookstore’s main owner: a rich, middle-aged man who only lets himself be referred to as “Mr. Saint-Germain.” Said Saint-Germain guy is already an urban legend in the campus on his own because of his family’s supposed long history with the university and his silent influence on the school system but—that’s for another time. The thing with Saint-Germain is that he actually comes in to interview potential staff whenever they have a new hire, just to make sure they’re smart enough about books to actually qualify as a staff in the Hoard.

Sure, of course, she knows that Arthur qualified as well, and that’s why he’s in the store with that polo shirt with a dragon embroidered onto it, but—Arthur is different.

She knows Arthur from a class she was taking once; they’d both taken the same literary criticism class and were paired up for a project once. It’s how she got to know that he worked in the bookstore and—well, got to mooch out of his staff discount, sometimes. (“Please, you have to, it’s bigger than the student discount in this case?” “But just once!”) It’s not that Arthur doesn’t have a good literary taste, it’s just…

She feels like it’s a good, non-intrusive way to get to know Theo by reading the books he likes.

And asking him questions about it.

Is that so bad?

[nad-zeta]

Matchup ☀

Hey there darling! I’ve been reading through all your match ups and there are so amazing!! 😣💖😖 can please i request a match up for ikesen and ikevamp too?

I’m a female libra who’s 5'2, i’ve brown eyes and caramel brown hair, i’m singaporean and i really love food, especially sweets. I’m also a hopeless romantic and i really love shooting alot (I’m part of the air rifle club in school). I used to be pretty athletic, i still am, but to a lesser extend now, because i injured my left knee playing volleyball in the past. It’s on it’s road to recovery, hut it still hurts quite badly when i overexert myself. I can be really enthusiastic about stuff I’m really interested in, such as history (especially world war history), sciences and anime (I’m a closet nerd hehe) . I’m a Slytherin, and i can be really ambitious and competitive, especially for my grades as i’m in a pretty good school so everyone is smart too. This drive to be better than the rest of peers always leaves me really tired and stressed out, but i try to not be so competitive nowsadays. I’m quite an open book to all my close friends and i also tend to be really possessive and stubborn at times. I can be really awkward around people i don’t click with, but around people i click with, i can be pretty wild and will be able to hold conversations with. I tend to procrastinate a lot, and people say i look intimidating but i don’t feel like I’m intimidating . I can be really sensitive to other’s emotions and i tend to put others before me. My love languages are physical touch and quality time, and i can’t stand people who are attention seekers or just aim to be public nuisances as i feel that they’re just really irritating and it gets on my nerves as i have quite a few of these types of people in my class and it really does make learning less condusive. I listen to a lot of different genres of music, but i especially love j-pop, classics and pop. I can really insecure at times, because i always feel thatevery other girl out there is better than me and i’m just trash :(

Thank you darling! I really love your work so keep being amazing 🥰🤩

Hey there love! thank you so much for your kind words and the request! You are such a sweetie pie!<3 Sorry for making you wait soooooo long for your matchup lol I hope you enjoy and have a fantastic day today!

So I match you with……………….. Mitsuhide

The first time Mitsuhide sees you, he is Hella intrigued by this little mouse with the most intimidating face. He can’t help but wonder what kind of other expressions that beautiful face of yours can make. He also can’t help but instantly be attracted to you. He could absolutely get lost in those beautiful brown eyes. Not just that, but he has never seen a woman so well built before, you definitely look like you can hold your own. The others might be a little suspicious of your athletic build, but not Mitsuhide; he is absolutely living for it. The first conversation between you two is basically him teasing you while twirling your silky soft hair between his fingers. He enjoys the witty, intellectual conversation between the two of you. He is also slightly shook by your vast knowledge of war and history—such a smart little mouse. Actually, the two of you seemed to click instantly, and you showed him your more wild, loud side. And much to your surprise, he invited you over for tea and chats every now and then which you really enjoyed. The two of you would just sip on tea and chat for hours.

You work like crazy. You are a VERY competitive person and this doesn’t just count for academics but everything that you are involved in. You want to give and do your best no matter what. This can-do attitude has earned you the trust and respect of the Oda forces. You like to make a competition out of everything you do. If one maid is known to clean the floor super fast and thoroughly, Challenge accepted. If there were a prize for best Chatelaine, you would most definitely win it! Although this doesn’t come without consequence as you were starting to overexert yourself. Mitsuhide was looking around for his little mouse. He wanted to chat with you and tease you as per usual before the war council. Finally, he had spotted you, he stood by the doorway for a few seconds and watched you work. You looked like you were in quite a bit of pain, not to mention the extremely stressed expression on your face. He sneaked up behind you unnoticed and gave you a little fight. You swear, this man will be the death of you. The two of you chated for a few minutes, and then you told him you had to get back to work.

After the evening war council, Mitsuhide visited you in your room. He was greeted by your forced smile and pained expression. He narrowed his eyes at you, saying, “You are in pain, little mouse.” Of course, you tried to deny it and offered tea as a distraction. He simply shook his head, picked you up on plonked you down on your futon. “Don’t try and lie to me, little one.” He bent down and caressed your face while tucking some stray hair behind your ear. His golden eyes peered into your as if coaxing out the answer. Finally, you signed and told him about your old injury and competitive nature. And how sometimes it puts a massive strain on your body’s physical and emotional state 

He simply gave you his trademark smirk and pulled some salve out of his sleeve. He had noticed your knee had been giving you some trouble as of late and decided to pester Ieyasu into making him some medicine for you. He then took your leg and started rubbing it in lol. This man has no boundaries, plus he was enjoying the blush spread across your face at his sudden contact. You were amazed it seemed to have taken away all the pain and discomfort. Mitsuhide then made the two of you some tea and gave you some herbs that would help with the pain if it ever got too much. You were genuinely touched by his kind gesture. Although it didn’t come without masses of teasing. 

The next day Nobunaga announced that you were to help Mitsuhide on a secret mission and that you were to depart immediately. You were shook at this sudden trip being sprung on you. You had no time to protest as before you knew it, your bags were packed by mother dearest, and you were sitting on a horse with Mitsuhide ready to go. Mitsuhide gently held you him his arms, and once the two of you had said your goodbyes to the Oda forces, Mitushide kicked the horse into a gentle gallop. He stopped every so often to let you stretch your legs and water the horse. This man was impossible; he legit refused to give you any details of the trip. All he would tell you that you were almost there. Even though you had no clue as to where you were going or what you were supposed to do, you enjoyed the trip. Mitsuhide made sure the horse was going at a comfortable pace, and he would ask you ever so often if you were doing okay. The trip itself with Mitsuhide was pleasant as the two of you joked and chatted the whole way there. You enjoyed this side of Mitsuhide. He didn’t have to wear his usual devious villain mask around you, which he appreciated.

“We have arrived, little one.” You were super confused about what kind of mission would take place at a hot spring. Mitsuhide just grinned at you and dragged you into the changing area. Once you were changed, you walked into the washroom to see Mitshide sitting on a stool waiting for you. In front of him was another stool, and beside him was an array of oils and hair care products. He urged you to sit in front of him, you eyed him with suspicion but did as he asked. He then proceeded to wet and wash your hair. And hells the way he massaged your scalp made you feel like you had died and gone to heaven. He then proceeded to rinse your hair and massage some oils into it. He then left you to finish washing up. Once you were done, you made your way to the hot springs and got in. As you eased yourself in the water, all the stress and exhaustion left your body. Nothing soothes the body quite like the soothing waters of the healing waters of the spring. Once you were done relaxing, you made your way back to your room. Once again, you were greeted by the sight of Mitsuhide sitting outside your shared balcony. He turned, smiled at you, and offered you a cup of sake. The two of you sat there and watched the moon until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. Today had been the most relaxing day of your life. 

Mitsuhide was midway through a tease when he felt a sudden weight resting on his shoulder. He looked down to see the sweet little mouse sound asleep on his shoulder. “Such a naïve little mouse letting her guard down around such a dangerous kitsune. You truly are a silly creature.” He looked at your sleeping face wearing the softest expression, just when did he grow so attached to you. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your room. He then tucked you into your futon and gave your forehead a whisper of a kiss.

The next day you woke up at noon, you were feeling so relaxed. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in so late; you also couldn’t remember the last time you felt your leg feel so pain and discomfort free. Mitsuhide knocked on your door and came in bearing breakfast/lunch. He told you that once you were done eating and dressed that the two of you would make your way back to the palace. You gave Mitsuhide the biggest brightest smile when you realized that this supposed mission was just his way of getting you to relax and take a break. You made a mental note to thank Hideyoshi and Nobunaga as well. Despite what people say about this silver kitsune, he truly is a sweetie pie. After breakfast, you deadpan looked at him, walked over to him and gave him the biggest hug as a thank you for all that he has done. 

Cue error.mitsu.stopped.working.

The two of you made your way back chatting merrily when all of a sudden, some random assassin jumped out of nowhere and started attacking the two of you. You had found out that they were keen on killing Mitsuhide and kidnapping you to use later against Nobunaga. Mitsuhide drew his sword and took a stance ready to protect you. You spotted his rifle in the saddlebag. It took you a few minutes to figure out the exact mechanics of such an old rifle, but luckily your vast experience with guns helped you in that department. You took aim and fired a warning shot at one of the assassin’s feet. Mitsuhide looed back at you with the biggest shocked expression. You then stepped forward to stand beside him, spitting out your own threat to the assassins.

Of course, one of then just had to be a dumb ass and try something stupid. Before Mitsuhide could even move, you shot him in the leg, warning that the next shot would be between his eyes if he didn’t stay put. Mitsu managed to capture the assassins as you held them under gunpoint. The two of you made quite the team. On your way home, Mitsuhide couldn’t help but smile and tease the feisty mouse that saved his life, so to speak. He also couldn’t hold back his feeling for you any longers, so as you entered the town, he leaned down and whispered a confession of love in your ear. Your eyes went wide. Then you simply turned back to look at him wearing the most dazzling smile and kissed his nose. Once at the gates, your friends wondered why the two of you were wearing such big smiles.

Mitsuhide loved to take you with him on some of his missions. He was happy that he didn’t have to worry too much about you because of your excellent knowledge of guns. He would take you on those missions, which required him to dress up and perform. Once his performance was over, he would lead you to a fluffy blanket and picnic that he set up just for the two of you. Both of you would spend the rest of the day listening to various music performances. You loved this, of course, cause not only could you hear different music genres. But also the fact that it was the most peaceful, relaxed concert you had ever been to, no big crowds, no annoyingly loud people, no people trampling over your belongings and no screaming girls screeching in your ears. Just some good music and gentle cuddles.

Since being in a relationship with the sneaky snek, you have become very possessive over him. You will legit give all the women around you death glares, especially those who think they can steal your man during banquets. It gets especially annoying while you are chatting with your oda friends; they will try and swoop in and get his attention by pouring a drink for him. Luckily the only one who will ever capture his heart is you. He will see you feeling a bit jealous and will call you over, pull you into his lap, and give you the deepest, most passionate kiss in front of all them high court ladies. When he pulls away, he will tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear while proclaiming his undying love for you.

Luckily for you, Mitsu’s love language is also physical touch and quality time. He loves giving you little kisses all over your face. He loves to caress your face and hair. And boy does he love to have you snuggled up in his arms nuzzling into his neck. He will spend as much time as humanly possible with you showering you with his love. Loves giving you little touches and sweet caresses. When you are insecure, the kitsune will be especially soft and kind. He will pull you to sit in his lap, pull his fingers through your beautifully soft silky hair and whispers sweet nothing in your ears. There might be a few neck kisses and ear nibbles as well. Mitsuhide’s ultimate favorite is to just sit with you in his arms while he spends hours and hours playing with your hair and chatting about anything and everything.

Other potential matches……………Masamune 

Ikevamp matchup............................Napoleon  

I hope you enjoyed it, dear! And I hope you are staying safe and well @nxh-special-here-just-lia ! ^0^ Also sorry i didn't add an ikevamp description but i dont know the characters as well lol but i can do an ikevamp selfie matchup for you ^_^