#he definitely doesn't have blood on his hands lol

[queenofthedork]

I was too lazy to render this time, buuut another simmie for @j3lly-fish's create-a-circus. Strongman this time

Previously, he tangoed with a lion tamer at a different circus and played the role of the "lion" since he's a bit feral. But you know what they say, 'Don't poke the bear unless you want it to rip out your throat'...That is the saying, right?

Strongman | Green & White | Scars & Moles | There's something eerie about your sim, something's just not right about them

[evieelyzabethh]

"taste"

☆"you're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin', my body's where they're at"☆ Wearing Arcane characters clothes {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, a bit of fluff, Viktor calls reader a whore, a bit suggestive for all of them

an: this is the case for all my titles, but I feel I should clarify; the songs are not meant to accompany the headcanons, I just get lazy when naming things so I cherry pick song lyrics then use the title lol.

♞Vi♞

♞Vi never thought she would have to worry about her clothes going missing. They're all tattered and torn, holey from all the times she's been cut or stabbed, blood stained from all her injuries throughout the years, and absolutely falling apart at the seams. Hell, her own shirts are so ruined she usually just walks around in chest binding bandages. Granted, stealing Vi's clothes started from an accident of convenience.

You didn't think anything of it as you slipped on the old thing, the writing so faded you could no longer make out the outlines of the letters and the color so sun-bleached it just looked a dull beige. There were holes along the shoulder blade, rib cage, and chest, the hems had long since unraveled, and the neckline had been cut. It Vi wasn't so averse to throwing things out, it's home would've been the garbage can ages ago. But still, it was comfy and clean and something of hers, so you pulled it over your head and carried on into the laundry room where you sat on top of your washing unit, vibrating along with the clunky machine beneath you. You decided to read as you wait, eventually become so engrossed with your book, you miss the sounds of Vi trudging her heavy feet across the floor as she returns from her most recent bout of getting her ass kicked. She hums her way around the space, painfully shrugging her jacket over her aching shoulders, enroute to the laundry room where she finds you, ankles crossed with some old mystery book in your hands. She gawks at you for a moment, not quite knowing what to say at the sight of you in her clothing. It looked good on you. Well, everything looked good on you, but this looked right. "Did you get all dressed up for me, pretty? You jump a bit at the sudden intrusion of her slightly gravelly voice, but eventually relax into her warm, musky presence. She knows how you feel about her smearing her bloody lips across your freshly showered skin, so she bites her lip to swallow her urges. "Depends, did you get yourself all battered just so I could patch you up?" She snickers, wiping the remnants of dried blood from her top lip. "Will my honest earn me a pre-shower kiss?" Of course, you nod your head. You have a very hard time denying her, not even bothered by the feeling of her gauze bound hands grip on your thighs and your skin beneath her shirt. She whimpers, leaning heavily onto the washer, her fingers likely leaving marks from how desperately she grabs at you for stability and her own sanity. She doesn't realize until the adrenaline wears off how much tonight did a toll on her, pulling away from the kiss to rest her head on your shoulder. "You need help to the shower?" "Yeah", she murmurs, hardly louder than a whisper, holding onto your waist as you hop down and sling your arm over her shoulder. "No more pit fighting for a while?", you question lightly, to which she responds by pulling a hefty bag of coins from her pants pocket. "Not for a few months."

★Ekko★

★Ekko has a commune, he is absolutely no stranger to sharing, especially when it comes to clothes. As many times as you have snuck a few of his jackets over the years, he has taken his fair share of your tops, liking the way they constrict and show the definition of his biceps and show off his sculpted lower abdomen. You swap rings, hair ties, and all sorts of accessories, it's another way that you two are visually all over each other. I also wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to buy things knowing they would eventually end up in your closet.

★This being said, you would have better luck getting a reaction out of him showing up wearing nothing rather than in his clothes, at least clothes that aren't important to him. He's so desensitized to the idea of sharing; a regular hoodie wouldn't get him going. Wearing something of his though, his jacket, his mask, replicating how he does his face paint, that would certainly get him. It's the explicit connection to him that gets him, it's you proudly wearing an echo of Ekko.

It was cold and wet and dreary. The sky was grey, and murky puddles formed in the innumerable cracks and crevasses in the dirty floor of the Undercity that the ground began to look like a muddy sea of water. It was the perfect day to be inside, maybe make some warm soup, put on a vinyl and pretend the crackley sound bites are early lightning bolts, and bundle up beside Ekko and call it a day before the sun went down. This was not the case as Ekko was out covering the gardens so they wouldn't be flooded by impure water and preparing for any potential storm surge, leaving you home alone, wrapped in his favorite jacket. You doubted it would be a big deal, it's not like he's ever been upset about borrowing his clothes without asking before, but his reaction when he returns home scares you for a moment. His eyes are closed as he walks through the door, carelessly toeing off his shoes, lifting up his already soaked shirt to wipe the running face paint before it gets into his eyes. From your place on the couch, you look out the window for the first time in hours to see it pouring down, the droplets pelting on your windows and the wind sending the occasional pebble flying at the glass. "I'm telling Scar to do this shit next time, it's too damn w- oh." He freezes, midway through yanking off his raincoat, eye's slightly irritated as they stare at you. oh? "Is that my jacket?" You falter a bit. "Yeah...is that ok?" You had no plans of going out in it, wearing only some old cotton shorts whose elastic waistband snapped years ago and a thin tank top. You didn't even have a bra on. He collects himself though, smirking as he looks you up and down, how good the color compliments your complexion, drinking in the slivers of skin, the sight of your nipples through your top. Of course it's ok, in what fucking world would it not be? "Yea, baby, it's fine." His mumbles, his voice lower and his eyes a bit wide. "You look good in it, too. C'mere, do a spin for me."

❂Jayce❂

❂This man is 6'7 and built like a brick shithouse, his clothes absolutely swallow you and he thinks it's adorable. He gets a fit of cuteness aggression, he just wants to squeeze and hug and kiss you until you pop. It speaks to that part of him that is quite aware of his sheer size, his biceps are the size of your head, you have to look up just to make eye contact with him, his clothes practically fall right off you. He's just so...big.

He awakes slightly startled and feeling empty, immediately feeling your lack of warmth in his arms and slightly panicking. It's too early in the morning to be rational and his frequent nightmares are doing him no favors. He hates waking up alone and cold, he feels like he's waking up in that cave again. His senses calm his rapidly beating heart, the comforting smell of coffee and something syrupy sweet, the sound of something sizzling on the stove. He throws the comforter off him, cringing at the feel of the cold floor on his feet before he throws on some socks and sweatpants to wander around half-asleep in. His brain short circuits when he sees you, his large shirt practically hanging off your shoulders, flowing around your bruised and kiss-bitten thighs. You moved lithely around the kitchen, going back from chopping strawberries for the waffles, stirring the eggs, flipping the bacon, and he's man enough to admit he's blushing a bit. You made breakfast for him! That's so cute. He slides behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, bending down to plant kisses on your neck. "My shirt looks really good on you, gorgeous." You giggle, turning around to face the big man behind you who picks you up by your hips to set you on the countertop, settling in between your thighs. "You think?" He hums. "Maybe a few sizes too big, but it's endearing. You look like a little fairy, like I could carry you around in my pocket all day." And his eyes are big and out of focus, that charming gap-toothed smile on display as his hands rub over your smooth skin, pushing his shirt higher and higher. Too big is certainly a familiar sentiment, how desperately you were crying that out just last night is still looping in his brain as he says it. "Maybe I'm normal sized, and you're just a giant. Have you ever thought of it that way?" He chuckles. More times than you can imagine.

☽Viktor☾

☽Hard immediately, next question. His work outfits look completely normal on him, but the buttons pop at your chest and the vests accentuate them in a way that's pornographic. Even his ties only serve to enhance the fantasy, even though they are the exact garments he wears to his lab every day. There is nothing innately sexual about it at all, but that's the fun of it. The fact thar you chose to wear that black lacy bra that you knew would show through the top, the way you wear his reading glasses low on your nose, the red bottom heels that you wear, which in any other context could be seen as perfectly appropriate work attire. It's the performance of it that he appreciates.

He knows exactly what game you are trying to play with him, no matter how hard you try and play coy. There is no way that you accidently shrunk your blouse in the wash, hell, he knows that's not your blouse because the buttons are on the wrong side for it to be female attire. He knows that's his tie, he is one thousand percent sure that if he was to yank you by it and check the underside, he would see his initials embroidered. He knows you left it loose on purpose, you have requested for the entire relationship to pick out and tie his ties for him, he knows you can make it tighter. Everything is utterly loose, for lack of a better word. The top button is undone, the tie isn't completely tucked under the collar, the slit of your skirt is not where it should be. It's a play at looking professional that you and him both know is just a test to see how long it takes for him to crack and rush you both home. At first, he's willing to play ball because you always crack first, but today, however, you decided to be serious about your productivity. He tries to focus, he really does, but after a while the clicking of your heels becomes too hypnotic, the fake attempts at adjusting your tie begin to pile onto the sexual frustration, and you lean over one too many times, giving him a good whiff of your perfume and oh you went with a red bra to match his red tie. He waits for Jayce to leave the room, slamming the book he was 'reading' shut as he lets out a very aggravated breath. "I want my shirt back." Cut and dry, his hand flipping the tie you're wearing to confirm that is indeed his. You smirk, and he would feel the need to wipe it off your face had it not been for the fact that he swallowed his pride hours ago after his hard on became too much to ignore. "You want it back now? Right here." And you're already slipping off the other buttons and he contemplates whether it's worth it to barricade the door with the table to buy you more time or be rational and tell you to stop. "Had I known you planned on being a whore today, I wouldn't have invited you over." You pout as he pulls the knot of his tie, grabbing your hands to bind your hands. "But don't I look pretty, Vik?" He rolls his eyes. "You look magnificent, love."

☼Mel☼

☼Like Ekko, she isn't a stranger to sharing clothes with you. Even if it's not hers, she has an exact replica tailored just for you. This being said, she loves playing dress up with you with her clothes. Anytime she needs to clear out her closet or has an article of clothing she doesn't know how to feel about or just gets bored, she'll call you to wherever she is and request you be her doll for a little bit.

Though you had been in Mel's closet for what had to have been hours at this point, you couldn't really complain. Never had you felt more pampered in your life, tens of gowns, trousers, and blouses gracing your skin as you twirled on the platform in Mel's closet as she analyzed the garment from every angle. Now you stood in something white and flowy, the sleeves long, the bodice double lined for winter weather, the hemline off the shoulders and trimmed with fur, the bottom thick and heavy. "What do you think lovey? Do you think it's too on the nose, you know I've never been the biggest fan of fur." Her hand feels across your chest, dusting off where some of the fluff had fallen and rubbing the soft material in her hands. "I don't see you in fur, it's too much of your mother's thing, but I do think it's nice. The lining is really nice on the skin, sorta has a fleece feel to it." She nods, moving her hands along your waist to connect with the silver zipper. She clucks her tongue. "Would I be silly to not wear it because the zipper isn't gold. I know it's a miniscule detail, but I really don't do silver." You chuckle as you look around her closet, a room larger than the bedroom you grew up in filled with racks of clothes that had some sort of golden sheen, be it from the color of the fabric, some sort of metallic accent, or a reflection from the general vibe of the room. "My love, you have so many clothes in here I doubt you would wear it regardless." She smiles. "Are you getting tired of this." You hesitate, which is plenty answer enough for her. You had been standing for hours at this point, and your back was starting to ache from how straight your back had been. "Do you have it in you for just one more. I promise, it'll be quick." She already has it out of the box, a very small party dress that you had never seen her wear before. "I bought it months ago but have been going back and forth between whether or not it would look better on me or you." Of course, you oblige, and she giggles as she zips you out of the dress, carefully sliding it off until the fabric pools around your nearly naked body. Her tunnel vision is briefly abandoned as her movements slow, lingering over the curves of her body, her fingernail tracing tiny hearts on the skin of your chest. "I know I say this every time, but you truly do look beautiful out of everything. Undressing you may be my favorite part of this." You playfully roll your eyes. "Stop being a flirt and just zip me into the dress, I want lunch."

[wafflefries13]

Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)

Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!

AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Part 2: First Dates

The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 

“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 

“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 

Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 

“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 

“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 

“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 

“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 

Ace:

“Ace!” 

Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 

“Do you want to go out with me?” 

Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 

“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 

“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 

Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 

“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 

“What made you think that?” 

“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 

From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 

Deuce:

“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 

(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 

“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 

“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 

(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 

“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 

Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 

“(Y/N),” He began. 

She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 

“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 

Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 

Trey: 

“Ow!” 

Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 

“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 

“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 

“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 

“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 

“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 

Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 

“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”

“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 

“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”

“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 

Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  

Cater: 

Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 

He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 

Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 

Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 

It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  

Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 

(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 

Riddle: 

Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 

“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 

Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 

(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 

Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 

Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 

“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 

‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 

“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 

“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 

“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 

The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 

“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 

“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 

“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 

“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 

(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 

“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 

Leona: 

“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 

(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 

“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 

“Hmm,” He replied. 

“I have something important to ask you.” 

“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 

“Alright, ask away.” 

“Will you go out with me?” 

Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 

“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 

“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 

Ruggie: 

Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 

“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 

“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 

“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 

Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 

Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 

Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 

“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 

“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 

Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 

Jack: 

Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 

“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 

Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 

Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 

(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 

“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 

Azul: 

Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 

“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 

Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 

“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 

Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 

“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 

He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 

Jade: 

(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 

“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 

Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 

“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 

“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 

Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 

“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 

“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 

(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 

Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 

Floyd: 

Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 

She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 

Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 

“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 

Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  

“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 

“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 

Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 

She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 

Kalim: 

Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 

He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 

“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 

There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 

“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 

“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 

“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 

Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 

“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 

“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 

(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 

They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 

“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 

(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 

Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 

Jamil: 

“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 

Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 

“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 

Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 

“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 

Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 

Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 

“But you told me you liked her!” 

“I said no such thing.” 

Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 

“There were no lines!” 

“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 

Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 

Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 

(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 

“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 

Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 

“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 

“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 

Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 

“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 

“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 

(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 

Vil: 

Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 

Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 

Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 

Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 

“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 

A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 

Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 

Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 

Rook: 

“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 

“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 

“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 

Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 

“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 

“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 

(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 

“Bonjour, Trickster.” 

“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 

Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 

“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 

(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 

“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 

“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 

Epel: 

Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 

He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 

Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 

Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 

That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 

Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 

Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 

“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 

“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 

She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 

Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 

Idia: 

Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 

The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 

One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 

“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 

Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 

“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 

“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 

Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 

He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 

He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 

He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 

Silver: 

(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 

(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 

Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 

(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 

A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 

“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 

Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 

(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 

Sebek: 

“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 

“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 

Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 

Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 

“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 

Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 

“Sure,” Epel said. 

(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 

Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!��� He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 

“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 

“Blessing?” 

“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 

For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 

Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 

Lilia: 

Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 

So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 

“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 

“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 

Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 

“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 

“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 

Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 

Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 

“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 

Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 

(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 

“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 

Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 

Malleus: 

Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 

“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 

In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 

“What’s all this?” 

She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 

Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 

She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 

“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 

Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”

[clawsdevour]

*ྀི ˖ ࣪ geto bf hcs

wc: 0.4k content warning: fluff, slight smut, boyfriend getooooo :3 , not proofread

⠀͙ࣳ #𓂃⠀:

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to be secretly into physical touch even if it's very little like being knee to knee. in public, he'd definitely limit how much physical contact your bodies come in, for instance, holding hands. alone, he would be such a hugger, specifically from the back where you're vulnerable. geto would swoop in out of nowhere and keep your back close to his warm embrace.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to love to listen to your pretty voice ramble on. his slender eyes love to linger on your lips and move with haste and happiness when you're talking about something you care about and love. his ears are always listening, picking up all the little things you mention too. btw if you're like sitting leaning against his chest or something, he'd let you play with his hair and he'd love it.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to be hella observant. just like before, he'd pick up on all your little habits even you wouldn't know. if you're standing in front of a cabinet he needs to get something out of, he'd put his palm on the edge every time just in case it'd accidentally hit you.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to have IMMACULATE hand placement i repeat. yes he may not seem touchy in public. but when he is, he knows where to place his hands to get you spiraling a bit to where you feel like you're under his spell. he knows your weak spots and definitely likes to watch you resist despite completely acting under his palms.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to share everything with you. he'd act like everything that's his is also yours, even if you don't act the same lol. for instance, sharing a perfume, he'd find it comforting knowing that you used or have his scent lingering on you. geto would for sure also for sure give you his drink if yours tastes like ass lmao.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to love lazy and slow days with you. it's not just the fact you're doing nothing, but the fact it means that he's spending quality time with you away from work, friends, and family. just a good twenty-four hours with the one he loves and wants to be with the most, especially since you're running through his mind all the time, it's good to just rest together.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to show up at your parents' doorstep with a bouquet of fresh flowers upon first impression. obviously first impression, he only has one chance to make a good one, espeically to win over your parents since he sees a future with you in it. he's proper and doesn't try anything foolish with you because he's meeting people of your own blood!

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to make you absolutely beg. his cock just rubs along your walls perfectly as you mold to his veins and girth. geto would always start off with the slowest, treacherous, but deep and striking strokes. his hair falls down and off his shoulders, caging you into his darkest while his husky voice whispers and praises you for taking his size.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to for sure love blowing you out from the back. something about holding your wrists down onto your back or onto the sheets while he watches and squints closely as your tight holes quench and squelch with the two essences that mix together to ease into the friction of his thrusts.

-Geto, the type of boyfriend to carry you over in the bath to rinse you off before getting a real bath ready and hopping in. he loves when you're just sitting in the warm tub, your back on his chest while he's giving you the whole spa experience like washing your hair or scrubbing your back. perchance... there's some light funny business since he can't get enough of your nude body as the water and soap suds just barely manage to censor anything.

masterlist here

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

[honorhearted]

Very handsome?

Wall-eyed, Ben glanced in between her face and the ground, mortified despite knowing (or rather, hoping) that Emma was joking. "I...I am not," he stammered almost childishly. "And I am not denying anything, I am only saying you are wrong. Though I suppose I could do worse than a princess." His cheeks burned and he refused her eye contact, wondering how he'd been so foolish as to fall into her verbal trap. Did he actually think she wasn't going to tease him back?

Despite the logic being sound, Ben was still leery. "I do see your point," he hesitantly agreed. "If we are to create a land of freedom, then anyone should be able to fight for it... However, I also hope you don't feel our women are inferior just because they cook and launder and farm, and tend to our every need in camp. Without them, I can promise you this: our army would not be able to function. We need these women, and we need them desperately."

"Don’t bother protesting, you know I’m not reasonable."

Unable to help it, Ben laughed, the sound soft and strained. "You said it, not me," he quipped. "But no, I actually don't find you unreasonable at all -- just mulish and headstrong. Being unreasonable implies that you never sway towards a compromise, and that just isn't true."

Expression softening, he shook his head and looked away again, still idly stroking Artillery's neck. "I'll be fine," he promised. "I have my friends in camp...they won't let me get too out of hand." If he chose to unburden, of course. "I just...I don't want to be anyone's responsibility. We're already taxed with so much out here as it is, so I'd prefer not to add to that weight."

"We have already established that you’ll certainly wish to marry me by the time we reach destination anyway, I may as well make myself useful.”

Ben huffed, his brows drawing high on his head. "This isn't exactly how I pictured my first and hopefully last marriage proposal, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers." He allowed another smile, yet his cheeks were still burning. "Though from the sound of things, you are the one asking me. And I think 'we've already established' that I'm flattered, but am going to decline."

He accepted her apology and she was about to point out that yes, actually, she did want to get closer to him so using endearments still made sense by his logic, when he said that last part and Emma attempted to gasp in fake outrage, but the surprise had her laughing before the end of it. "How dare you!” she managed between giggles, and shook her head, “That’s so-Oh, you could do a lot worse than I, Major Benjamin Tallmadge. And what if I had been? You are very handsome, you have a good position, I could have been trying to court you, you would have broken my heart! Such a man, really,” she laughed again, so very pleased that he had joked with her. Got him. “Just watch out. Men who deny it so fast are usually the first to fall, and that is in fact a threat.”

It was interesting that he was allowing her to track the woman down, perhaps his army had no need to learn how to follow prints, they already used weapons that allowed distance in the first place. “No, no, we’ve got enough men, but the women, who are people as well, sometimes feel the same emotions and have similar wishes. Some may want to protect their loved ones, some may simply want the glory. Chasing bandits or defending the crown. Not that many, mind you, and most stop once they have children, but I believe I could find women here who feel the same way, they just don’t know they are allowed too. I’ve found that gender and size don’t count all that much when you have proper training and your enemy is just there to wreck havoc. Training also help when you do stay home to take care of the family and someone breaks in. Gives you a chance. People should consider that part more. That and we’ve been at peace nearly since I was born, but older people have known tyranny and the scars are left.” Maybe she was going to make his head explode that day. She had a feeling she was getting there.

Hearing his voice after her explanation, which he apparently had nothing to say against, made her heart somehow feel too big for her chest. He was so young and there was too much responsibility on his shoulder, too much blood and loss in his past even if no crown awaited him. Emma wondered if some day he wouldn’t have the same far away look her parents did when telling her some of their most horrifying stories, no idea she had already gotten her life nearly taken so many times by the very same people who had gone after them. Did she ever have that look? Likely not, not because of any battle at least, she’d have laughed it away by force. “I’m thinking of all of you, not just them. Don’t bother protesting, you know I’m not reasonable. You are watching over all of them, someone must do the same with you… We have already established that you’ll certainly wish to marry me by the time we reach destination anyway, I may as well make myself useful,” she finished, to give him an out from her decision to care for him just as much if he needed it. He seemed the type to need it.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SAY DON'T GO

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Sypnosis: Nothing hurts more than the fear of losing you. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: Angst. mentions of death, blood, gunshot A/N: I wrote this in a haste, literally ten minutes ago, while listening to Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) by mother Taylor Swift. It's definitely not perfect, but I was definitely in the zone when I wrote it, lol.

A gunshot.

Everything fades into a muffle. You blink once, twice, thrice... A wince connects your brows. As if you're figuring out if the oozing feeling on your abdomen should be causing you pain or ease.

Suddenly, Spencer's running to you. You think he's screaming. You hear nothing. There's only ringing in your ears. A thin, high-pitched ring that pierces through your brain.

You drop on the precinct's carpet floor, caressing your stomach like it's enough to stop yourself from bleeding out. You look at Spencer, "When'd you get here?" You ask, disoriented. You instantly pay attention to his watery eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You reach to cup his cheek. You are shocked when you see your hand covered in red, smearing the liquid on his skin. Your eyes widen, "Oh, my god?! You're hurt! Spence—" You try to sit up, but a wave of stinging pain makes you fall back in his arms.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?!" Spencer's voice echoes in the entire place. He turns to you, unsure if he is even allowed to have you in his arms. He doesn't dwell on it as he holds your hand on his cheek, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! Breathe for me, yeah? Stay with me." He swallows a sob, placing pressure on your abdomen. "Please, stay with me..."

"I'm hurt?" Stupor begins to steal you out of consciousness. You blink. A bright light blinds your vision.

Once you open your eyes, you're back in Spencer's apartment. He's standing across the room while your feet are rooted at the door. He doesn't look at you. No. He's afraid to look at you.

His hands are buried in his pockets. He's wearing a nice suit. Fitted just for him. His tie is a dark shade of purple. You gave him that tie for his birthday last year. It's loose. His hair is a mess. And his face... it's wet.

He's crying.

You're crying.

"I think you should go," Spencer takes a gulp as he stares at the floor. Like it'd kill him if he looked at you.

You inhale deeply, sniffing as you wipe a tear with the back of your hand, "We don't have to do this, Spence. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do!" For the first time in what feels like forever, he finally lifts his gaze at you. His hazel eyes are rimmed with red heat, overflowing with tears. He's hurt. He's hurt, too.

"Is it really that horrible to love me?" You sob. You can hear your heart slowly shatter. Pins and needles knock on your chest. You wonder if you're still breathing right. "Am I that ugly—"

"You know that's not true, sweetheart." You hate that the nickname gives you butterflies. How his words, awful and insensitive, still made you attentively listen. How his voice still makes you want to hear more. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Then why?!" You felt like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why are you putting a distance between us?" You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering. "Why is it such a crime to be together?"

Spencer shifts his gaze to somewhere else. He runs a hand through his hair. You notice the coffee stain at the cuff of his sleeve. Then, you see the smudge of red lipstick past the line of his lips. Your red lipstick. He bought that lipstick a few months ago. No reason. Just for the fun of it.

Is it bad that you think he still looks handsome under the sun's setting light? Even when his hair is arrayed in different directions? Even when his face is drenched with his own tears?

He breathes deeply, audibly, "We're in the same line of work. You know better than to think we're going to work. News flash, sweetheart. It won't. It's not worth it." He can't look at you. He's ashamed to look at you.

"Not... worth it?" You blink. You stare at him with disgust, "So— So what? We're nothing, but we fuck? We're nothing, but we flirt? We're nothing, but you love me? Please, explain it to me because I'm having a difficult time understanding the stupid shit of a point you're making."

Spencer gulps for the nth time, "You love me."

"What?" You regret wanting to meet his eyes because now that he's staring at yours with such unfamiliarity, it hurts.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything."

You're definitely not breathing right.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Inhale, exhale... Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. Just follow me." Spencer holds your hand tight as the paramedics do their best to stop you from bleeding out. His voice sounds heartbreaking.

His voice...

You blink. Your hearing's back. You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling as he does. You feel lightheaded, like you're floating on a cloud.

Spencer keeps his and your hands intertwined. He follows while the paramedics roll you into the ambulance. "Hang in there, sweetheart. Please, hang in there." His face is a mess. He doesn't stop crying, swallowing his sobs.

You smile into the oxygen mask, blinking. You're on the verge of dying, and yet you find humor in knowing Spencer's tells. "You swallow when you're scared... don't be scared, Spence." You say it in broken words and in an almost soundless voice.

"I'm not," He denies, wiping his tears aggressively. He is. He's scared to the bone.

"The bullet shattered to her chest," The paramedic who inspects your chest claims, looking at her partner with worry.

"W-what?" Spencer stutters, stealing a glimpse down your neck. "No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me." He sees the way you flutter your eyes, fighting to stay conscious, listening to his pleas. And how you suddenly stopped, never opening your eyes back up. "Don't— Don't close your eyes! Sweetheart, please don't go. Please, don't—" He looks up at the sound of your vitals plummeting. He quickly looks back at your face, saying your name like it's a prayer.

The machine flatlines, and the paramedic pushes Spencer aside to perform resuscitation. "Sir, let us do our job." One of them says, two inches deep as she manually restarts your heart.

Spencer shoves himself in the corner of the ambulance. He wraps his arms around him. "Please, don't go..." His voice cracks and transitions into writhing sobs as he watches your body go limp with each surge of electricity that shocks your skin.

Then he thinks of that night.

He thinks of the image of you standing by the door. You don't want to go. He doesn't want you to go.

But you have to... because if you don't, he'll run to you and never let you go. So, he tells you to leave. You protest.

So stubborn. He cries in his head, wishing that you hadn't made things difficult for being so beautiful even when you're crying.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything." His body shakes on the spot. His mouth goes dry. His chest compresses. He lies through his teeth.

Spencer saw the way your face turned into a ghost. He's done it.

He broke you.

He hurt you.

No turning back. No way of fixing it.

"Ah..." You say softly, nodding. "Checks out." You add without a sign of sarcasm. You stare into the air for a minute. You let the silence hover and hunt Spencer for a moment. You let him realize the pain, the stupidity of it all. "I think I should leave..." Your eyes say otherwise.

Please say, "Don't go." Tell me not to leave. Run to me... please.

You wonder if he knows it or chooses to ignore the way you held your tears. If he caught on all your tells. Because you knew he wasn't true. You knew he knew that you could read him like the back of your hand.

"Yeah," Spencer straightens his back, "I think you should."

You purse your lips into a thin line and nod, "Okay," You turn around. You take three seconds to grab the knob, but when the time has run out, you are out in a heartbeat.

"Spencer."

JJ appears in Spencer's vision. "Spencer, are you okay?" Her face was covered with worry as she placed two hands on his shoulders. She exchanges looks with Derek and Aaron.

They were there when it all went down. When the unsub came out of nowhere and started shooting. You were the first shot.

Spencer cranes his neck around. He's in the waiting room. He doesn't remember when or how he got there. All he remembers is the defibrillator jolting your unresponsive body more than once. His eyes widen. He says your name in haste as he stands up, "Where is she? Where— Where..."

Derek holds him back, "She's in surgery, Reid. Did you forget?" He asks, gently pushing Spencer back onto his seat.

"She was dead for three minutes... They couldn't find a pulse for three minutes." Spencer announces at a loss. He looks down at his hand, at the cheap friendship bracelet around his wrist. The one you made in your first year with the team as a last-minute birthday gift. He breaks into a sob, covering his eyes as if to push them back inside his tear ducts.

"So?" Derek catches Spencer's hands off his face, "She's been in surgery for thirty minutes. Her heart started beating again, and it had been for thirty minutes. She's fighting, man. At least fight with her before you wallow like a ninny."

"Morgan," Aaron warns but silently agrees.

You're fighting for your life, so they should, too.

You're not ready to go.

You don't want to go.

Spencer nods and wipes his face. He sniffs and takes a deep breath. He glances at the door to the operating room like he has x-ray vision, "Don't go."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[butchvamp]

i did Lucanis's inner demons quest last night and have some thoughts [everyone groans in unison]

i admit that i definitely have a bias for Lucanis, i really like the crows (or i should say the crows from previous games & the lore around them) and my Rook is a crow so i'm inclined towards him in general.

that being said i feel i'm just. missing huge bits of information about him. he exists entirely in a void. i don't really know anything about his relationships with Illario or Caterina, the game glosses over so much of his role and what exactly he does within the crows (beyond just talking about how he was the Demon and the Magekiller) i suppose it's just too icky for the game to truly acknowledge outside of a few jokes about Lucanis poisoning the gang's food...

i know from seeing people posting excerpts from his novel that Caterina did, in fact, physically abuse him; i figured this was the case considering she's a high ranking member of the crows and thus no doubt had a role in torturing recruits, even if the game pretends like this is a thing that doesn't happen. you get a bit of banter early on where Lucanis, talking about Illario's behavior, says something along the lines of "My relationship with Caterina was complicated, too, and I was her favorite." implying some level of friction between them as well as conflicting feelings about her death.

but then that's it. we get nothing else. this should be a major piece of his story, a part of why he feels the way he does, and exploring Caterina's role in his and Illario's abuse would better expand upon Illario's resentment and make his and Lucanis's relationship more compelling beyond "Illario is a big jealous meanie."

i really wanted to like the inner demons quest more than i did, because conceptually i enjoy going into the fade/Lucanis's memories with Spite, so far Lucanis's quests have felt the most Dragon Age to me (fighting a naked woman in a giant pool of blood + seeing Spite lose control, him and Illario butting heads and having a competitive relationship before this (as the crows all should...), etc. these are fun!) but just like the rest of the game it's still holding back.

when you confront the memory of Caterina all you get are these choices:

none of these are particularly satisfying if you actually know the things Caterina has done... "Your love for him" is actually vile lol

this entire questline is a linear walk through fragments of the Ossuary & Lucanis's memories, there is nothing interesting here, Rook just plays therapist for about twenty minutes and then you make a nothing choice at the end that has no affect on anything at all... and most egregiously, we have learned literally Nothing new about Lucanis that the game hasn't already made an effort to tell us repeatedly (a real problem the game has in general, constant hand-holding and repetition).

there's Quite a bold choice to compare this quest to the Fade section in origins right at the start, with Rook and Spite joking about getting past the guards: "What did you expect, to turn into a mouse or something?" like yes, actually, i did expect something a bit more! even if you want to say the warden does the exact same thing with their companions in that quest, their dialogue is FAR better-- again, Rook's is all clinical therapy-speak (where did she even learn this shit? did the crows pay for her to get a degree in psych and become a licensed counselor?) and in origins, we do actually learn something new about each companion as well as getting to see them interact with their fantasies and/or nightmares. we get nothing here...

we could have seen him and Illario training together, being competitive, the early seeds of resentment being planted between them by Caterina's goading and abuse. we could have seen the guilt Lucanis feels about this, about Caterina's favoritism and how it's affected his relationship with Illario. we could have actually seen what happened to him when he was captured and in the Ossuary, we could have seen some of the horrible things he's had done to him and that he himself has done to become the Demon of Vyrantium, we could have learned more about why the demon inside of him became spite specifically-- because if what Zara's echo said is true, it started as an Envy demon-- so it was influenced by Lucanis in some way. what makes him spiteful? why is it spite that keeps him alive in the Ossuary...? is it spite as in defiance-- defiance of the Venatori, of Caterina's expectations and abuse, in defiance of Illario's betrayal...? unfortunately, Lucanis never really feels spiteful at all. determined to survive the Ossuary, but afterwards, never has he come across as spiteful (Spite is mostly just petty and a bit bitchy).

in my opinion the Envy demon fails because Lucanis was never envious of Illario or the First Talon position, only crushed by the loss of their relationship and guilty over Caterina's favoritism. obviously Caterina's expectations weigh heavily on him, but he knows he's the favorite, and he doesn't envy Illario for not being so-- he seems very aware of the fact that it doesn't equate to Illario having it "easier." but the game barely addresses this, only in weak voice-overs, while the majority of the quest is spent convincing Lucanis that he's not actually a demon. Lucanis is wholly a good guy that only kills blood mages and loves his poor grandma and his inner demon is entirely Literal and just him feeling bad about being an abomination :(

nevermind all that yucky complicated stuff. Illario is Bad and Jealous and deserves to be punished for... doing exactly what crows have always done.

of course it's easy to make Illario look bad when all of the other crows are treated like a found family, when we know that's not the case at all. crows have been competing and scheming and killing each other since origins. this isn't meant to make light of Illario's betrayal (in fact i still think it's quite significant given their history and the two of them being the last of their family) but instead Illario is very obviously suspicious from the start, the reveal of his betrayal was not surprising, it's predictable because, again, he is presented very differently from all the other crows we've seen in this game-- he's the Bad one, and Lucanis is the Good one. no nuance!

in his short story, The Wake, Illario is actually depicted as being extremely remorseful, getting very drunk and reminiscing on old childhood memories of Lucanis while Viago has to carry him home... of course there's no way of knowing the exact intent behind this story or what changed since (published in 2020 and written by Mary Kirby, after all) but either way, we don't get anything like that here. somewhere along the way we lost the depth and complexity of both characters; we don't get to confront this big ugly thing between them because the game refuses to engage with anything ugly at all.

[sunderwight]

disciple luo binghe, running errands for his shizun one day, somehow manages to be in the exact wrong (right) place at the exact wrong (right) time and catches shang qinghua meeting with mobei jun

in order to keep luo binghe from tattling right away, shang qinghua dissembles in a panic and claims that his clandestine meetings with mobei jun are happening because they're lovers and definitely not because shang qinghua is betraying the sect and handing their secrets over to demons in order to save his own hide. when that almost doesn't work, he also tells luo binghe that he knows he's part demon, and that if luo binghe rats him out then shang qinghua will take him down with him. mutually assured destruction

it works, and even though luo binghe threatens him quite a bit (jeez kid calm down, you might be the almighty protagonist but also you're like sixteen) he agrees to keep shang qinghua's fraternizing a secret. but if ANYTHING BAD should happen to the sect or especially to luo binghe's shizun because of this, luo binghe will take shang qinghua down even if it does ruin his life too

shang qinghua, now sweating even more bullets about the impending immortal alliance conference: cool! cool cool cool sounds great cool yeah

so shang qinghua can add "being blackmailed by the punk ass brat I sort of created" to his list of stress-inducing woes. which gets even worse when luo binghe keeps somehow sensing if mobei jun is around for more than a couple hours and showing up, and picking fights with him?? kind of??

wtf has the protagonist been taking tips from liu qingge or something...?

shang qinghua feels like he's gonna have a heart attack when mobei jun just snorts and tosses luo binghe by the scruff like he's an annoying yappy dog

mobei jun actually knows what's up though. teenage half-demon who has never been around his own kind has become spoiled by the lack of competition on this front, and now his hackles are all up because he wants to claim the whole mountain range as his territory, and his instincts are screaming at him to challenge mobei jun about it so that they can decide who is actually top dog. since mobei jun could easily kill him, especially with his blood sealed, and has been clawing rocks and pissing on trees along the borders of an ding peak since before luo binghe was born, he's clearly got seniority here

and since qinghua doesn't want mobei jun to just kill the little shit (fair enough -- that sealed bloodline does look kind of interesting) that means it's up to mobei jun to teach him how to do things like interact with other demons without making a complete fool of himself. lesson one: what to do when you challenge someone out of your league and they win, assuming they don't just kill you

so luo binghe reluctantly gains another demon tutor

meng mo actually approves. he's been out of the loop on demon high society for a long time, and has lacked a body for long enough too that he's forgotten a lot of the particulars of socializing. it'll be good for luo binghe to pick up some manners that aren't just silly human tea ceremonies and things. maybe he'll start addressing meng mo more respectfully for a change!

(lol no)

luo binghe is partly like "I don't need to learn demon social skills since I'm spending the rest of my life as a disciple of qing jing peak" but partly like, well, if shizun knew about this and didn't freak out about it, he'd probably say that knowledge is power and learning how to handle politics and diplomacy of all kinds is important. and despite himself luo binghe is also interested, because this is a whole perspective on his own nature that he's never really gotten advice about

also, mobei jun is the lover of shang qinghua? mobei jun is a demon who successfully seduced a cang qiong peak lord? does he have any advice about that?

(he does -- all of it very bad)

anyway all of this sort of fucks up the immortal alliance conference developments really good, so the system kind of gives up and settles on some other big transformative achievements that luo binghe has to complete in order to be suitably heroic

but shen qingqiu has no idea and so the reprieve just seems to come out of nowhere until several years later, when he walks in on luo binghe with his claws out and huadian gleaming in the company the demon king of the northern desert, the two of them playing weiqi or something while they wait for shang qinghua to get back from some random logistics crisis he had to rush off to

shen qingqiu: ...?!?

luo binghe, panicking: wait shizun I can explain it's not what it looks like SHIZUN I SWEAR I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU PLEASE DON'T BE MAD--!

shen qingqiu: all this time I thought you were sneaking out to meet a girl, and this was what you were doing instead?!

luo binghe: WHAT?? shizun no I'd never do that I swear I don't even like girls!

shen qingqiu: that's not -- wait what do you mean you don't even like girls?!

mobei jun, unperturbed and still focused on the weiqi board: he's gay

[changbunnies]

Revelation (18+)

♡ Pairing: Vampire Priest!Jeongin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by midnight mass (tv), horror themes, vampire / human relationship, smut, possibly dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: The suspiciously young and extremely handsome priest of your small-town church has a very big secret– and it's not until he's sinking his fangs into your neck that you discover what exactly that secret is.

♡ General Warnings: usage of typical vampire abilities (increased senses, strength, etc), descriptions of blood, religious themes (specifically catholicism focused), references to religious guilt + shame, reader does not trust jeongin at all (for good reason lol), very blatant manipulation, cult vibes? jeongin basically has the whole town under his thumb so. do with that what you will lol

♡ Smut Warnings: dubcon, vampire venom that acts as an aphrodisiac, sexual acts inside a church (specifically in a confessional booth), some gendered language (dirty + good girl), dom/sub dynamics, dom!jeongin, biting + blood drinking, thigh riding, fingering (f rec), a lil bit of praise kink, corruption kink?

♡ Notes: this is possibly niche but well. the vampire priest concept lives rent free in my head thanks to midnight mass, and innie said he wanted to be a priest + he'd definitely be a sexy vampire so here we are lmao. and sorry i'm suddenly posting out of age order for my late kinktober fics but i ended up finishing this before the other members i still have left :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There's something that isn't right about your local church's head priest. Firstly, his age doesn't make sense; who on God's green earth becomes a priest in their 20s?

At least, you assume that's around how old Father Yang, who notably prefers to be called Jeongin, is– you've never been told, and you've never asked, but he certainly doesn't look any older than that.

Secondly, why are his sermons always at night? In all the towns you've ever lived in, in all the churches you've ever frequented, this is the first time you've ever experienced your standard, weekly Sunday service routinely happening at 9 p.m.

And thirdly, why is it that everyone who meets with him for confession comes back looking delirious and.. euphoric, almost? You don't get it– sure, confessing your sins is freeing; asking for and receiving God's forgiveness is among the best feelings that can be experienced if you're a devout believer, but still.

Something about all of it just doesn't sit right with you– and to make matters worse, you seem to be the only person in town suspicious of him. You're new to town, have only been here a handful of months, so you get it– you're the outsider, you don't know him like they do, et cetera, et cetera.

But how can not a single other person in town be bothered by how strange it all is? There has to be an explanation– you don't know what it is, and you don't know why you're the only one who seems to care, but there must be a reason.

It's Sunday again, and you spend the entire sermon watching Jeongin like a hawk, trying to catch any sign as to what it is about him that has all these people so enraptured. And while it's not necessarily wrong for him to be, another thing that strikes you is that he's easily the most casually dressed yet stylish priest you've ever met.

He wears the standard clergy vest and rabat, as he should, but over it is a leather jacket, and he wears denim blue jeans instead of dress pants. His shoes are sleek and polished, he has pretty, ornate rings decorating his fingers, has expertly styled slicked hair and silver earrings dangling from his pierced ears.

Again, it's not necessarily wrong, but it's definitely something you wouldn't think a priest's Sunday best would entail. And maybe that's only because the priests in your life have only ever been old, and didn't put much thought into style, but maybe that's what people like about him?

Maybe it makes him seem more down to earth and approachable; maybe it's easier to confess your sins when, outstanding devotion to God aside, he seems like as ordinary a person as any other. Of course, that's logically always the case, but some priests have an intimidating "holier-than-thou" attitude about them, and it certainly helps Jeongin's case that he seemingly makes an effort to not give off that vibe.

And admittedly, he's charming– there's something so uniquely handsome about the way he smiles while preaching God's word, how his eyes twinkle while he recites a scripture and relates it back to a point he made several minutes prior; you can't deny that it's enthralling.

But when he looks over the attendees lined in the pews, it always feels like he's looking straight through you, seeing to the depths of your soul and laying it bare. It gives you chills, honestly; makes you feel exposed in a way that's indescribable; like with a glance alone, he knows all your secrets, your every sin, down to their most minute details.

It's near midnight when his sermon ends; you stay seated in the backmost pew to the left, brows furrowed as everyone shakes his hand or hugs him, thanking him for another "terrific service." It's so bizarre– and it's not until the last of the congregation exits the small, wooden church that you begin to rise from your seat.

Though you're sure the church carries electricity and that the lights can be flicked on, the priest never does so– he always uses candles, casting a warm yellow glow on the dingy, white wood of the walls. It casts more shadows, gives the place an almost unsettling air– and when he turns to you, just as he's closing the Bible in his hand and setting it down, it sends a shiver through you.

"You're still here," Jeongin smiles at you from where he stands before the altar, centralized at the head of the church. It's a kind enough one, but you don't trust it; you can't shake the feeling that something lies beneath it– something abberant and dark that you can't place, but are certain is there.

"Do you wish to confess?" he asks, motions to the confessional booth with his hand as he tilts his head. "No," you answer, perhaps too quickly– and his smile grows ever so slightly, as if he's amused. At least, that's how you perceive his expression; and it makes you narrow your eyes at him, the distrust that radiates off you certainly palpable.

Your opinion of him is no secret, really; and he can tell you're scrutinizing him, trying to catch him in whatever act you think he's playing– it won't work, but it does humor him that you're trying. He doesn't know what sort of wild conclusions you've come to about him, but if you see anything, it'll be because he himself wanted you to see it– until then, you won't learn a single thing about who he truly is.

"Is there a reason you're still here then?" Jeongin questions next, and you swallow, hesitant to answer. Admittedly, you only stuck around in case someone did decide to go confess to him– you intended to eavesdrop, to try to listen in and find out what's really going on behind closed curtains.

It would've been massively immoral, but you would've confessed and asked for forgiveness later– privately, that is. You have no intention of seeking the Father's help in such matters, given how little trust you have towards him.

But still, despite the fact that you were willing to sneak around and listen to private conversations, you aren't entirely willing to lie in the house of God– so after some internal grappling with yourself on what you should and shouldn't do in this position, on what is right and wrong, you end up admitting the truth.

"I don't trust you," you tell Jeongin plainly, and you can swear you see him trying to suppress a smirk.

"I'm aware," he says, so matter of fact that it almost sends you reeling. And it's not that you were so disillusioned into thinking you weren't being obvious; you know very well that you weren't being the most covert in your suspicion of him– it's how unbothered and amused by it he seems to be that really gets you.

Shouldn't he be offended? Question your reasoning? Try immediately to dispel your doubts and clear up any misconceptions you may have? Instead, he seems more than ready to just accept it for what it is– even seems entertained by it.

"Does it not bother you that I don't trust you?" you ask, and he almost laughs as he shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for it to," he answers simply; and before you can ask why, or what he means, he's already answering– you suspect he could already tell you were going to press him on the matter.

"God teaches us to love one another. So even if you do not love me, or trust me, I love you, just as God instructs me to," Jeongin smiles as he speaks, and again, your brows furrow. It's a perfect answer, really– but it feels.. inorganic, almost rehearsed.

And the glimmer in his eye throws you off; it doesn't feel like the pure, honest delight you'd see on a priest putting God's word into practice. It feels mischievous, deceitful– like he doesn't believe an ounce of what he's saying, but he wants you to believe that he does.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, and you swallow, stiffening where you stand as he continues, "And if you really want to know what goes on during confession, want to see for yourself what it is I do to help the people who look to me, I can show you."

If you're being entirely honest, the offer is tempting; and strangely, it also makes you feel.. bad, almost– makes you second guess yourself. Because if he's freely offering like this, surely it can't be whatever you've been making it out to be in your head.

There's no way he'd out himself, and whatever it is he does, just to gain the trust of one person out of hundreds who doesn't believe his pure intentions. And maybe the other townsfolk really do trust him for good reason; maybe you've just been examining the situation and looking at Jeongin and the church in the wrong light.

Maybe you've been blowing everything out of proportion with obscene assumptions, and maybe he really is just a good priest. Maybe he makes you feel so seen, heard, and whole, that all your worldly problems melt away, feel trivial and light in comparison to God's plan for you.

Because after all, you are the outlier here. You're the only one in the whole town that doesn't trust him; and surely that means you're the one in the wrong. Jeongin does things differently than you're used to, but that doesn't mean he's inherently bad. And maybe you should confess– ask God to forgive you for not being receptive to the word of one of His servants.

Jeongin smiles when you concede and start to slowly step your way to the confessional. You pull back the curtain, step inside and prepare to sit in the small, wooden booth seat, but you quickly realize he's followed you inside. You gasp as you turn around, back pressing against the intricately carved hardwood window of the booth as he closes you in.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be on the other side?" you ask, much too meek for your liking. It's a cramped fit given that the booth is only meant to fit a single person on either side at a time; it makes you unconsciously hold your breath as you're effectively caged inside the booth with him– nowhere to go, and nothing you can do but stare at him, bewildered.

"No," he answers as quick and simple as before, his smile once again growing ever so slightly. And maybe you could push him, try to dart past him if you manage to successfully make him topple back, but you feel frozen– because even in the dark, barely lit confessional you're in, you're certain that you see his dull canines become long, pearly white fangs.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a second," he assures you as he brings his hands to your arms, gripping them just below your shoulder as he leans towards you. You shudder, his breath fanning your ear as he inches towards your neck, "but after that– it's bliss."

You feel the sharp points of his teeth poke at your skin, and it makes you gasp as your head tilts to the side, making room for him to sink his fangs into your flesh. Instinctively, your hands search for something to grab; you end up reaching for his shoulders, twisting your hands in his leather jacket to ground yourself as his sharp teeth pierce into your neck.

Your legs wobble, and he forces one of his own between your thighs, uses it to keep you upright as he drinks from you. And there is pain, but it really is only for a second, just like he said it’d be– within seconds it melts away, and oh, you instantly understand.

It’s much, much more than bliss– it’s ecstasy, it’s rhapsody, it’s the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Spreading from your neck to every last nerve ending in your body, every atom of your body becomes alight with euphoria as his bite sends tingles throughout you, raising goosebumps along your skin.

You cry out, an embarrassingly loud sound that you barely recognize as your own voice as one of your hands finds its way to his head. Your fingers thread into his hair, hold him to your neck as if you don't want him to ever separate from you– and to be fair, maybe you don't.

It feels so good, so exhilarating, intoxicating, that you almost don't want the sensation to ever end. Jeongin meanwhile lets out delighted hums, eventually slowly retracting his fangs to latch his lips around the sensitive, bruising skin, his tongue lapping away at the blood that pours from the two little marks left behind.

The beating of your heart quickens, breaths quickly growing labored as the inexplicable want continues to seep into your veins. Your thighs tremble as tension builds deep in your gut, and they try to press together to seek relief, but Jeongin's leg stays firmly nestled between yours, preventing it.

And were you not so utterly blissed out, maybe the incessant, desperate throbbing of your pussy would make you feel ashamed– but all you can think about is the deep seated desire overtaking every receptor, every tiny cell, every molecule within you, as if the very chemistry that makes up your being has been altered for Jeongin alone.

Unable to resist, you rut against his thigh, entirely shameless and feverish– because it's all you have access to, all you can do to relieve the growing ache between your legs. It’s sinful, your growing lust is– and the last place you should ever be doing this is inside of a church; but you’re too far gone to care, too gripped by the need for stimulation.

Jeongin lets go of your arms, reaches between your bodies to hike up your church gown, giving you easier access to his lean, muscular thigh. He’s gracious, tugs your soaked panties to the side so your clit can catch on the denim of his jeans– and the delicious friction makes you moan for him, loud and sweet. 

He pulls away from your neck to watch your desperate humping, eyes gleaming with mischievous satisfaction as he watches you pleasure yourself on his thigh. His eyes are perfectly adapted to seeing in the low light, and so he can easily see every little detail of you– from the mess your pussy leaves behind on his jeans, to the sweat beginning to drip down your temple, to the trembling of your bottom lip before you tuck it between your teeth. 

And when he smiles at you now, it’s like the fox that got the rabbit; even in the extremely dim candle light you can see the way your blood coats his lips, messily dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His dark eyes are gleaming– because he has you ensnared, and you both know there’s no going back. 

You untangle your fingers from his hair, and you watch as he reaches for your falling hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He holds your gaze as he kisses over the pulsing vein, and it makes your breath hitch, the blood on his mouth smearing over the surface of your skin, staining it crimson. 

“Should I bite you here too?” he asks, placing another kiss over your vein before he shoots you a grin full of fang, “you’re so delicious– I want to taste you even more.” You gasp and squirm as Jeongin presses the tips of his bared fangs against your skin– not quite biting just yet, but it’s enough to spread another wave of tingles over your body. 

“Yes, bite me, please!” you cry, voice almost frantic in its urgency– and you can see the corners of Jeongin’s lips twisting into a devious smile before he’s obliging, burying his fangs deep into your wrist within an instant. You wince, your fingers clenching as he squeezes your wrist in his hand, keeping it tightly pressed to his mouth. 

And just as before, within seconds the sharp sting dulls and ebbs into incomparable pleasure, goosebumps spreading over every inch of your heated skin. Faintly, you can see your blood dribble past his lips, slowly flowing down the length of your forearm before it drips to the floor of the booth. 

You can just barely see his tongue licking over his bite, doing his best to collect all the blood that spills from you, and it's mesmerizing– especially when he brings his fingers to your arm to swipe up what his tongue misses. Your stomach flutters as you watch him separate from your wrist and bring his bloodied fingers to his mouth; they're so long, so pretty and enticing– you want them.

Jeongin can see it in your eyes– how brazenly you stare at his fingers, how your eyes follow every move he makes with them. You're still panting, sweating, chest heaving from the exertion, but the rutting of your hips has faltered; and he grins as he gazes at you. You're once again left with the feeling that he sees through you– that all it takes is a glance for him to know everything you're thinking.

"You want them? Want me to stuff your cunt full with my fingers? Make you cum all over them?" he asks, entirely rhetorical; he already knows the answer. And he likes the way you writhe over the question, how you gasp over the sinful words he so freely spills in such a sacred place, your ears positively burning.

Even if your face didn't obviously show your desires, you don't think you'd be able to deny them; you've never wanted anything as badly as you want this, want him. It should make your gut twist with shame, because deep down you know this is wrong, know that you shouldn't want him to touch you as badly as you do– but the craving for Jeongin to bring you pleasure is almost primal, so deep and innate that your rational mind can't even hope to fight against it.

Slowly, almost playfully, he trails his fingertips over your thigh, and the anticipation is enough to make you unconsciously hold your breath. "You're so fucking messy," Jeongin says as he brushes his fingers over your soaking, sensitive clit, "so wet– you're a dirty girl, huh?"

You want to whine, want to shake your head and vehemently deny that you're dirty, attest to being a good, honest, and God fearing– but you're so overcome with your desire for him to touch you, that you don't. Instead you agree, concede that you are dirty, and messy, and that you want him more explicitly than you feel your own words could ever attest.

How easily you agree to being dirty seems to please him– and with a light chuckle, he slips his hand further down while carefully removing his leg from between your thighs. You wobble a bit when the support of his leg is gone, but he's quick to wrap an arm around you to hold you, effortlessly keeping you upright with the strength innate to who, or rather what, he is.

The cool, silver band that he wears on his pinky makes you jolt when it touches your feverishly hot thigh, and he chuckles again as he spreads your folds with his fingers. You're dripping for him, so slick with arousal that it hardly takes any effort at all for Jeongin's fingers to become coated with your juices.

You rock your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging him to give you what it is you crave most. "Oh look at you, so impatient, so desperate," he laughs as he presses the pads of his fingers to your hole, delighting in the way you look at him with glassy eyes and pinched brows.

It's obscene how badly you want him; you've never felt this needy, never been rendered so desperate for stimulation– and you're in a confessional of all places. This is the very last place on earth you should feel this way, or be doing something like this, and yet the shame you should feel is far from your mind– because all you can think about is your need for his beautiful fingers to fill you up and dull the throbbing ache between your legs.

Jeongin coos when you start to beg for his fingers, a rambling string of "please," and "want it, want you," and "need it so bad." You can tell how much satisfaction it gives him, and if your mind weren't so hazy from desire you'd certainly feel embarrassment build and twist from deep in your gut– but any such feelings are silenced by your body's need for his touch, by your craving for the sensations that only he can grant you.

It takes your breath away when he easily sinks two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out slowly until he curls and bends them to find the spot that makes you see stars. "That's it, there you go," he grins when he finds it. He watches your eyes roll back, your hands clutching at his jacket as he continues to press the tips of his fingers into your most sensitive spot.

He returns to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and nipping it with sharp teeth before he kisses and licks over the bruises he leaves behind. He applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb while relentlessly targeting your spot, an easy task for him thanks to the length of his fingers, and his hold on you tightens when the shaking in your legs grows more intense.

You're so, so close, and Jeongin can tell too– not just from how your pussy pulses and squeezes around his fingers, but because he can hear the loud, erratic thumping of your heart, as well as the rush of blood pulsing in your veins. "C'mon, let go– cum, you can do it, cum for me," he urges, speaking softly against the shell of your ear while swirling his thumb over your clit.

"There you go, good girl, just like that," he praises as you string out a loud succession of whimpers, your thighs closing tight around his hand as your high finally takes you. Your world feels like it’s spinning, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you ride out your high, your release gushing messily around his fingers.

His hand stays in place until your thighs untense, and he’s careful as he slips his fingers out of you, though you can’t help but shiver and whine from the sensitivity regardless. You're unsteady on your feet following your orgasm, but Jeongin makes sure you don't fall over; he keeps his grip on your firm, carefully helps you turn away from where you were pressed against the carved window to sit in the booth's only seat.

He wipes the sweat from your forehead after you sit, leans down to fix and smooth over the skirt of your church gown as you try your best to collect your breath and calm your racing heart. He's reverted back to his kindly priest persona it seems– you can tell by the warm smile he offers when you look at him, his sharp fangs fully retracted.

Still, bits of your blood remain smeared over his lips– clear evidence that he isn't the saintly man he portrays himself to be. You watch breathlessly as Jeongin licks the last of it from his lips before he pulls back the curtain of the confessional booth.

He offers you his hand after it seems like you've recovered enough to stand again; your own hand trembles as you accept it, and with his assistance, you rise carefully from your seat.

You're a bit dizzy when you stand, equal parts consequence of blood loss and the euphoria still lingering and tingling in your veins, but you're otherwise steady; and he smiles as he squeezes your hand in his, the other coming to rest on the small of your back as you take your first step out of the booth.

"Come back to confession again sometime," Jeongin says with his characteristically deceitful, charming smile, knowing full well that you will. Humans always find the sensation of his venom irresistible, always become addicted to it once they've felt it– and you'll be no different. "I'll be waiting for you."

[harunayuuka2060]

*It's been days since Malleus and the others returned. They had already planned to pretend to mourn for Kalim and remain on high alert, as that seemed like the most sensible course of action. If it was true that the MC(?) was helping them, they needed to ensure they reciprocated by making sure the doppelgangers wouldn’t catch wind of their plan.*

Malleus: We’ve already lost one. Now there are only six of us left. We need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

Vil: I'm sure our enemies are feeling confident that they've successfully struck one of us.

Azul: ...

Azul: I still can't believe Kalim is gone... Maybe if we had been more cautious, we could have protected him.

Riddle: ...

Idia: I don't think we could have done anything about it. Malleus and Leona are the only ones here capable of real combat. Vil...

Vil: *looks sternly at him*

Idia: No offense, but you're all about beauty, and even if you know martial arts, it's only for movie stunts.

Idia: Riddle, Azul, and especially me... we're nothing but burdens.

Riddle: Don't say that, Idia-senpai! We can definitely—

Idia: I'm saying this because I might be next—I have no chance of surviving.

Malleus, Leona, and Vil: ...

Riddle and Azul: ...

Azul: *makes an annoyed expression*

MC(?): ...

Riddle(?): ...

Riddle(?): Are you not going to speak up?

MC(?): It's true that Kalim(?) hasn't been around for a while. Do you want me to look for him?

Riddle(?): No. *smiles eerily* Actually, I want him gone for good.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Is there anything else?

Riddle(?): The hunt is in a few days, but it wouldn’t hurt to start early, would it?

MC(?): ...

Riddle(?): What's your answer?

MC(?): Is there someone you have in mind?

Riddle(?): I heard that one of them has given up on surviving in this place. Bring that person to me.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): *bows their head* I understand.

MC(?): Idia Shroud.

Idia: Eek! Wh-What?

MC(?): Please come with me.

Leona: Oi. Where are you taking him?

MC(?): ...

Idia: ...

Idia: *smiles awkwardly* Is it my time?

Azul: Idia!

Idia: It's okay, Azul... I... If you survive here, tell Ortho that I'm sorry...

Riddle: *looks like in despair* Idia-senpai!

MC(?): Let's go.

Idia: ...

Idia: *quietly goes with MC(?)*

Leona, Vil, Malleus, Riddle, and Azul: ...

Idia: Ugh... This place...

*MC(?) has brought him to a room that reeks of blood.*

MC(?): ...

Riddle(?): Took you long enough.

MC(?): My apologies...

Riddle(?): *looks at Idia and gives him a small smile*

Riddle(?): You'll be part of my collection. Don't worry, I'll make sure your head doesn't rot.

Idia: !!!

MC(?): ...

Riddle(?): *to MC(?)* You may go now.

MC(?): Won’t the others find out?

Riddle(?): Hmm? Of course not. This is my personal space—

MC(?): *swiftly struck his head with a knife, decapitating him instantly*

Idia: *couldn't help but scream*

MC(?): ...

MC(?): *turns to Idia* *extends their hand to him* Let's leave before anyone enters this room.

Idia: ...

Idia: The Fake Riddle... He looks like he's still breathing...

MC(?): He's not dead, but we must leave before he regains memory of this event. By then, the diversion will have already been set.

Idia: Diversion...?

MC(?): Yes. The other Idia Shroud will arrive.

Idia: Lol, but... how does that work?

MC(?): Unfortunately, that's something you’ll never know.

Idia(?): Oi, Riddle. What are you doing down there?

Riddle(?): ...

Riddle(?): Have I fallen asleep?

Idia(?): *chuckles* You really are a psycho. Killing me lulled you to sleep?

Riddle(?): *glances at the corpse to what seems to belong to Idia*

Riddle(?): ...

Riddle(?): This is ridiculous. And here I was hoping to preserve his head.

Idia(?): Scary~ Mwehee.

Malleus: ...

MC(?): *has returned with Idia's bloodied hoodie*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *takes it*

Riddle, Azul, and Vil: ...

Leona: Tch. You're not here to apologize again, are you?

MC(?): ...

Vil: What happened to his body?

MC(?): His face is unrecognizable, and his body has been disposed of.

Vil: *starts to tear up*

Azul: *comes over to comfort him*

Vil: *sobs*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Please leave.

MC(?): *bows their head apologetically then exits the room*

Riddle, Leona, and Malleus: *exchanged glances*

Leona: Haa... Tch. This is not good.

Riddle: Idia-senpai...

Azul and Vil: *hiding their smirk*

[dinogoofymutated]

Hey! I wanted to make a request but I wanna state right away that if you're simply not comfy with it or don't vibe with it - I completely understand!

I'm on my period rn and wanna request some SFW or NSFW head-canons with Kurt comforting F!Reader while on their period. (Totally understand if NSFW wouldn't be your thing for this. Just any comfort HCs at all would thrill me. <3)

I just can't stop thinking about him applying gentle pressure with his hand to my lower abdomen like a heating pad. I feel like he'd be so sweet. Furball cuddles for the win.

Extra note: Your writing is lovely and thank you so much for your posts. They bring me joy and I even reread some of them a few times. I hope you're having a good day/night and I'm sorry for the long ramble. Remember to take care of yourself and drink plenty of water 💜🫂

SFW! Nightcrawler/ AFAB! reader - Period HCs It's finally here!! I'm sorry it too me so long to get to this ask lol. Hope you enjoy! TWS!: depictions/descriptions of Menstrual Cycle, Blood, staining the sheets on accident. Cramps. Please do not read if you're not comfortable.

Kurt 1000000% is one of the best marvel characters when it comes to making sure his S/O is taken care of.

He's thoughtful and cuddly, and he definitely runs hot, so he's quite literally a heating pad/blanket. He hates the fact that you are in pain, even though it's a regular biological thing that happens to so many. He provides for you in any way that he can when you're on your period, making you food, running to the store, making sure you're hydrated and taking your meds.

You tell him to jump, he'll always ask how high.

And he's comfortable buying pads/tampons for you too! He memorised the brand and size you get after the first time you had your period while dating him, and he does his best to remember when you change that too!

He will also buy you the snacks you crave while on your period and will never let you pay him back.

Don't be embarrassed about your period around him. He's seen blood before, and just because it's coming from a vagina instead of a wound doesn't make it disgusting. He respects your boundaries during your period, and has a lot of patience with you if you're the type to get mood swings. He just loves you a lot, and if that includes uncomfortable menstrual cycles from time to time, he's more than willing to accommodate you however you need.

    You felt extra groggy waking up this morning. You can’t go back to sleep, but opening your eyes felt like an absolute chore. You didn’t feel well- and you can’t place why at first. You groggily sigh, uncomfortable even in bed, and are immediately comforted by a three-fingered hand soothingly petting your hair.

    “Good morning, Schatz.” His voice is soft and sweet. Even in your pain, you smile at him, trying to keep your eyes open just so that you can see him.

    “Mornin’ “ You sigh, leaning into his touch. 

    “Are you feeling well?” Kurt asks, ever the attentive sweetheart. You shake your head at him, moving closer to him so that you can snuggle into his chest. He’s warm and comforting. His tail wraps around you snugly, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. After cuddling for a while, your stomach growls, and Kurt chuckles. He mentions something about breakfast you’re a little too sleepy to remember and gives you a chaste peck before he pulls back the covers and gets out of bed.

    You only feel his weight on the bed shift a little before he seems to freeze abruptly. 

    “Is everything okay?” You ask, slowly blinking your eyes open to see what was the matter. Kurt has this soft, concerned look on his face as he looks at the bed, and then at you, turning to sit sideways where he can face you.

    “Love, you're bleeding.” He tells you. You look at him in confusion for a second, before you suddenly recognise that awful sticky wetness between your legs, and bolt straight up. You rip the blankets off, horrified at the sight of blood staining the sheets.

     “I'm so, so sorry, Kurt!” You say, frantically trying to sit up and get moving.   “- I promise I'll clean up and-”

    “Why would I make you do that?” Kurt immediately cuts you off, setting his hands on your shoulders to settle you. “You didn't do it on purpose.” He states. You don’t actually know how to respond, both embarrassed at the circumstances and thankful he’s not mad at you. 

    “I’ll start the shower for you. Just wash up and let me take care of everything else, okay?” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own before he stands. He kisses you again before he’s gone in a cloud of smoke.

    The water is the perfect temperature when you step inside, warm and cozy. You debate on turning the water scalding hot, still trying to shake off the embarrassment, but you don’t. Your cramps become more and more noticeable while you’re in the shower, causing you to ache once you finally shut off the stream. There's a fresh, fluffy towel and a new set of pajamas waiting for you when you step out- ones that Kurt must have teleported in without you noticing. The thought makes you smile.

   Kurt had replaced the bedsheets and re-made the bed while you were in the shower, also laying your weighted blanket across the bed. He’s not in the room right now, but that doesn't stop you from curling up under the fluffy cover immediately. You’re so thankful you swear to yourself that you were gonna repay Kurt ten times over with whatever he could possibly want, already knowing that he’d tell you to not worry about it.

   You’re lightly dozing, curled up in the fetal position under the covers to fight your cramps when Kurt teleports to your bedside. He’s got a tray of food in one hand with a glass of water in the other. You sit up when he sets it down on the bedside table, and he sits next to you had he hands you the glass, holding out pain meds in his other hand.

    “You know how much medicine I take?” You ask, smiling sweetly at him. He’s grinning, his tail swaying back and forth on the bed.

    “Why wouldn't I? It's the same amount every time.” Kurt says, tilting his head at you. You quickly take the medicine before you get too sidetracked, and the moment the glass of water is set to the side you pull him in for a kiss that he eagerly returns.

    “You’re the best, You know that?” You tell him, and all Kurt does is chuckle. He crawls under the covers with you, sitting by your side as the two of you eat breakfast together. When you’re done, He lays back down with you, setting his warm hand on your lower stomach as he spoons you from behind, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck. You’re already feeling better when you drift back to sleep again in his secure, comforting embrace.

[fadelbison]

one of the things that I loved about the fadelstyle stalker date was that despite all of the conflict, style seemed to be the first person that showed an interest in fadel's life - like a genuine hey are you having a good time with your activities level of interest.

He showed up to the restaurant to watch him prep and make commentary. Fadel went all brooding and knife-ey on him sure but we dont see him pull out those biceps that we already know can drag style out.

He calls him chef and helps him out, doing exactly the job that we see Bison abandon earlier in the episode - when was the last time someone made fadel feel like he was something other than a cold blooded killer?

And then you remember that style and fadel have already had this heartbreaking interaction in episode 1

[Screenshots from Ep1 of Style asking Fadel "You do everything yourself?" and Fadel responding "I do."]

I was never convinced that that interaction was just about the heartburgers management for fadel lol

style is going to figure out they're assassins, style tries to backtrack from the car deal when kant agrees. i think asking for the car was style's way of refusing that favor but when kant agrees he gets curious or really starts believing that kant is in love.

style is probably the most intelligent of the four but he's definitely the most emotionally intelligent of the four though it's masked by his carefree personality - and he has figured out for better or for worse that fadel is lonely, desperately so.

style asks for a list of things that fadel likes doing and the best bison comes up with is his schedule which is exactly the same everyday but bison doesn't even know. and style makes it work. he tries to create intimacy at the burger shop in ep1 with fadel and it fails and when he's handed a schedule that is 70% fadel either prepping for or being at the burger shop, style comes back with companionship on offer.

when bison said fadel's insides need a beating, style correctly interprets it as put that man through the mortifying ordeal of being known and he really does it in a way that's not random. The random method failed so now he's trying to understand fadel, something that fadel hasn't experienced in a long time if he ever has.

And the cookie crumbles in less than a day. fadel should feel some embarassment for how easy it was?

look at fadel - he's confused. error 404 not found expression on a man if i've ever seen one. there are no internal protocols of handling this situation, so for the first time he has to rely on his instincts, instincts that were forced into ignoring and mistrusting this sort of stimulus.

fadel simply wants. the comeback of what he thought his long, dead desire (bison is the only person he's convinced himself he needs!!) and those hardened, survival instincts are at odds, and the struggle to push that impulse away, to jerk off angrily in the hopes its flushed out of his system - oh fadel i love that you're so un-normal about this.

style sets the challenge in the pursuit of fadel for himself in a way. despite having almost no information and this probably being a slightly hyperbolic statement style has surmised the stakes of this mission much better than even kant has.

style has him and im fairly certain style knows he has him...if he wants him. you've thrown your own gauntlet style so just how far are you going to go to meet that challenge?

[tetragonia]

A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

[nebulawebb]

MY MOUTHWASHING HEADCANONS

—

Hello everyone, so I'm writing a little kind of story of a "Reader/Yn" in the world of mouthwashing, so I have headcanons for my story that yall might like! I'm not going to separate them by character so they'll all be mixed up lol

𔓕 Daisuke loves drawing and is really good at it, but he never paid much attention to it because he doesn't think he has enough talent.

𔓕 Anya had a stuffed animal on her nightstand facing the door, when Jimmy's SA thing happened she turned it around and now her stuffed animal faces the wall.

𔓕 There used to be drawings that Daisuke made of Anya, But Jimmy looked at them "weird" and Anya removed them.

𔓕 Swansea definitely only has daughters, so Daisuke was like the son he always wanted.

𔓕 Jimmy definitely knows how to make those knockout cocktails and has used them before.

𔓕 Curly assigned the room to each one, but Jimmy argued that he wanted Curly's room and Curly ended up changing rooms with him so as not have problems.

𔓕 Daisuke was definitely a basketball player.

𔓕 One time Jimmy tried to copy Curly's curls with a curling iron, and he burned his whole hand.

𔓕 Swansea doesn't see Curly (after the accident) because he can't stand the smell (Burned skin or just old blood...)

𔓕 Anya tries not to sleep for fear of what might happen while she sleeps.

𔓕 Daisuke was in his room when the crash happened, despite everything being in tatters he took a risk and took out his gameboy and more stuff without hurting himself due to his good luck. — "You took out your stupid little game and not clothes or something useful, kid?"—

𔓕 Swansea is a dog person.

𔓕 Curly actually used treatments to maintain his hair pretty...

𔓕 Jimmy is a narcissist.

𔓕 Daisuke tried to draw Curly (after the crash) since no one wanted to be drawn. It didn't turn out well.

𔓕 Jimmy is a bad drinker. Every time he drinks he gets aggressive.

𔓕 Even after the accident, Curly continued to suffer from insomnia, so not being able to rest in that condition was even worse.

𔓕 Jimmy has thought about giving Curly some mouthwash to see what happens.

𔓕 Swansea was the one who amputated Curly.

𔓕 Daisuke tried to play the board game with Anya again, but with the stress of the crash and Jimmy, she started crying when she lost. Daisuke never asked to play again.

𔓕 Jimmy has a Polle stuffed animal............

𔓕 Anya wanted to take mouthwash to see if that could help her get an 4bortion, but she was afraid that she would faint and that Jimmy could find her.

𔓕 Daisuke had a hamster that died because he didn't know they hibernated. He didn't know until Swansea told him...

THAT'S IT. It's almost two in the morning, I took off my glasses and I only see dots...Tell me if you liked it so I can make more or post that little Reader x mouthwashing story! Sorry if you don't like my hc or are cringe, I really try!

[deadsnakey]

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 —> 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎˚ᡴꪫ

ᯓ★ ᡣ𐭩 fluff ⦂ little angsty ೀ Headcanons. . .ᐟ 0.8k words ┈─★

ㅤ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱

જ⁀➴ he's very sweet, but only to you mostly and tbh he's a conniving bitch but he gets his character development!

જ⁀➴ as soon as he gets the hots for you and not just wanting to get into your pants, he's definitely nicer and more tolerable to you.

જ⁀➴ like, he's very charming but if you make him chase you and play a little hard to get, he's gone.

જ⁀➴ loves trying to win you over even if it does take awhile; but he's willing to do whatever it takes!

જ⁀➴ when y'all start dating, he's truly the sweetest and most considerate.

જ⁀➴ you probably had to teach him cause I think this is a more enemies to lovers trope.

જ⁀➴ before lovers you had to teach him that you have to open doors for your lover, get them flowers, be gentle and kind to them, never raise his voice or hit a lady

જ⁀➴ especially his girlfriend.

જ⁀➴ but after he really does start being nicer in general, you start falling for him and eventually start dating.

જ⁀➴ he talks about you a lot; his friends are tired of it.

જ⁀➴ they definitely tease him about how he's gone soft because of you and he can't deny it, but he's not mad about it.

જ⁀➴ he'll shamelessly show you off and give you affection in public, around your friends, his friends, etc because he's not ashamed of you.

જ⁀➴ the first time he said I love you to you was probably not even 3 whole weeks of dating, it just kind of slipped in the moment.

જ⁀➴ tries his best to be good enough for you; he's changed for the better for you, so he can finally have you and call you his lover.

જ⁀➴ sometimes though, he has doubts and needs some reassurance verbally that you still love him despite his flaws and imperfections.

જ⁀➴ definitely has physical affection as his top love language, but acts of service is a close second.

જ⁀➴ I can see him constantly gifting you things he knows you like or are really interested in.

જ⁀➴ loves seeing you happy but quickly gets jealous or upset if it's anyone but him making you happy. (Especially if it's a guy).

જ⁀➴ if you're very talkative, then he's more then glad to listen to you go on a rant about an interest of yours or sum, he loves listening to your voice.

જ⁀➴ but have someone insult you about talking too much or in general and even though he's not as big of a fighter as Mattheo (Theo being second) is, he's not afraid to fuck a MF up for you.

જ⁀➴ then he'll come and find you after with blood on his face, not all his, and with a cute little smile fondly looking at you as if he didn't almost kill someone lol.

જ⁀➴ I think he'd love matching with you even as simple as rings or bracelets, shoes or phone case. He finds it cute.

જ⁀➴ let's you play and style his hair, he finds it relaxing and doesn't care if you put to small pigtails in, as long as you're happy!!

જ⁀➴ also falls asleep sometimes, he tries so hard to stay awake but you're just so comforting to him he can't help himself sometimes.

જ⁀➴ always wanting to touch you in anyway he can but will try and control it if you're not too big on it.

જ⁀➴ but in public he WILL be putting a hand on your waist or holding your hand, he will get pouty and whiny and that's annoying to deal with.

જ⁀➴ sends you pictures of things he knows you like or find cute.