#scholar!reader

[winterrrnight]

hi edith! i love your writing so much 🫶 especially the dynamic scholar!reader with rafe. can you make more please 🥺🩷 but with mean!rafe or fratboy!rafe

ahhh thank you for your request and your kind words anon 🫶I hope you like reading this :) I went with frat!rafe because to be honest mean!rafe isn’t much of my thing 😅 let me know your views on this if you feel like <3

late night sessions

PAIRING: frat!soft!rafe cameron x gn!scholar!reader

SUMMARY: rafe helps you back in bed after you accidentally fall asleep while studying.

WARNINGS: reader is a stem student (or basically anything except business because that is rafe’s major); established relationship; minimal usage of nicknames like babe; minimal swearing; rafe is soft for reader; fluff

EDITH SPEAKS: love love love scholar!reader with my whole heart 🥰 I’m so glad I’m getting to write them again. (manifesting major scholar!reader vibes for myself for my upcoming college year 😚) read my original scholar!reader blurb here <3

please reblog if you liked reading this! feedback is always appreciated 🪸

navigation || join my taglist || requests

It’s like you are completely cut off from the outside world; your books, notes, flashcards, and your laptop surround you on your desk as you find yourself knee deep in this semester’s syllabus, your mind already working on an overdrive for midterms – even when you still have a whole week before the dreaded exams approach.

But your boyfriend? He’s totally opposite. 

Exams don’t even begin mattering to him until one night before the actual exam day when he practically rawdogs some borrowed notes, not knowing what half of the content means but he’s cramming and gulping down information as if his life depends on it. And then guess what? He always gets a minimum of 50% of the total marks on each of his exams, making him the cockiest bastard to ever exist. 

 “See babe? This shit’s easy as fuck. Passed with all flying colors ’n shit,” He grins, practically shoving his grade sheet in your face. You always have to swallow down the urge to smack that irritatingly perfect face of his, blowing off that smirk right off his face. 

“Shut it, your business shit’s easy to pass alright?” You grumble under your breath. You very well know business isn’t easy, but the fact that Rafe is passing it with pretty decent scores by studying only one night before makes you think differently.

Your current focus on your notes is broken when you hear a knock at your dorm door. Begrudgingly, you yell out a ‘come in’, not moving your attention from your notes for even a split second. You hear the door open and close from the front of the room, and when you feel a figure approach you from the back and wrap their arms around you, you know who it is. 

“Hey babe,” Rafe mumbles in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at all your books and notes surrounding you. 

“Hey,” You mumble back, your focus not withering at all. 

“Missed you tons today,” He mumbles, gently caressing your neck with his fingertips before nuzzling against the soft skin, his lips beginning to press slow, languid kisses.

“Yeah same,” You mutter, dragging your laptop closer as you open the file you want to access, your entire body, mind and soul completely unphased by Rafe. 

Rafe sighs as he presses one last kiss to the side of your neck before lifting his head up. “Already studying for your midterms?” He says, reluctantly stepping back from you to flop down on your bed, his gaze never leaving you. He already knows the answer to his question: you wouldn’t be the person he’s so deeply infatuated with if you aren’t giving a head start to your head start for your exam preparations.

“Uh huh,” Comes out your quiet voice as he watches you, your brows furrowed as you scroll through something on your laptop. He trains his gaze over to the small digital clock sitting on the corner of your desk, flashing the numbers 11:17 in a bright white. 

“Babe it’s getting late, come sleep with me,” He says, beginning to scoot over to make space for you, but your next words make him stop. 

“It’s okay Rafe you sleep, I’ll be there in a few,” 

Few. It can mean anything in your dictionary. It can mean 40 seconds, or 28 minutes, or 3 hours, or the entire night.

Rafe lets out a quiet sigh as he thinks of coaxing you to get in bed with him again, but he knows it’s not going to work. 

“You better not ‘accidentally’ pull an all-nighter again you hear me?” He says, a tinge of sternness in his voice as he fluffs the pillows once before dropping his head on them. 

You don’t say anything, just make a quick move to turn off the main light of the room and turn on your desk lamp instead. The room plunges into darkness except for the soft glow of your desk light, illuminating your desk and you sitting in front of it.

Rafe turns over on his side to look at you, his hand under his head. He watches you study quietly, your facial features glowing under the desk light and the light from your laptop screen. He tried to keep his eyes open for as long as he can, but the occasional typing of the keyboard, pen scratching against the paper as you write, and your barely audible whispering begin to lull him into a sleep which he finds harder and harder to pull himself from. 

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe shifts in his position, letting out a soft grunt under his breath as he turns over on his side after being on his back. He squints his eyes as he feels a certain light hit his heavy, closed eyelids. He forces them to open, his vision blurry for the first few seconds. As his vision sets and his mind begins to gain consciousness, he realizes your desk light is still on. 

You are crouched over in the chair, your head resting on the table in your arms. Your notes are scattered around and your laptop is open but now under sleep mode. Rafe darts his attention over to the clock, and the numbers 2:32 flash back at him. 

“Jesus,” He mutters under his breath, helping his sleep-ridden body up from the bed. He walks over to your hunched position and gently shakes your shoulder. 

“Babe, babe come sleep in the bed,” His raspy voice comes out. For a moment, you don’t move, but after a few gentle shakes you do, slowly lifting your head up from your arms. 

“What…” You mumble sleepily, your eyes barely open. You are just as sleepy as Rafe, if not more. 

Rafe shuts your laptop close and switches off the desk light, the only light now coming through the small window of your dorm. His hand finds your arm and he gently pulls you up from the chair. 

“Come sleep in bed,” He repeats, his voice still groggy as he helps you up from the desk chair. Your extremely tired body doesn’t put up a fight even once and you let him lead you over to the bed. 

Rafe helps you lie down and he lays next to you, his arms wrapping around your frame in an instant. You succumb to his embrace the very next second and snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his chest. 

Both of you fall asleep after your shared moment of momentary awakeness, your sleepy body tucked snugly against his for the rest of the night. 

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @saccharinesammie, @maybankslover, @totalswag, @madelynie, @chenslucy /

@ietss, @elle-mp3, @viawritesstuff, @wallsdreams, @mistress-amidala /

@sadfury, @sage-burrow, @jamesbuckybarneswify, @xxxlaura, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @callsignwidow /

@starkowswife, @drewstarkeyswifehoe, @jjchaer, @f4ll-for-you, @wearemadeofstardust0 /

@drewsmusee, @rafegirly, @addriaenne, @leighbronk, @rafesdrew /

@bejeweledreverie, @raf3sgff, @aerangi, @drewstarkey1bae, @moneymaybank, @spideysimpossiblegirl /

@spideysimpossiblegirl, @noahkahansorangejuice, @rafesgiirl, @theoraekenslover, @fals3-g0d /

@personalfavsthatarerandom, @b1mb0slvt @babypoguelife, @ilyrafe, @oxpogues4lifexo /

@fionaswifeyy /

[sheep-from-rad]

Hi! Sorry if this is weird or anything, this is my first time sending an ask lol

But I just finished reading your writing about the singer/influencer reader and omfg I love your brain. Like imagine the reader did a cover of/wrote like spit in my face by ThxSoMch or Cigarette Ahegao by Penelope Scott (love her sm btw-) cause just imagine the GUILTTT

Imagine the Batfam listening to their music and just hearing the bitterness in their voice as they sing “Screwing everything up, doing everything wrong, In my defence I wasn’t supposed to be around this long, so” HGDECANZZKNFBVD

Anyway, I love your writing and I hope you have an absolutely amazing week! Take care of yourself too- drink water, eat some food and try to get some sleep ml <3

Nah anon you're cool. I love reading asks. ALSO credits to Luludelulusramblings, they made the originally made Influencer reader. Batfam belongs to DC as usual. Singer reader post: here

You know, in the Art History year 1901-1904, Picasso started the Blue Period where he only painted in the shades of Blue. It started due to the death of his friend, later his financial struggles, and of course the current state of the society. Blue Period art was so good but so doleful and depressing that no one wants to hang it in their house. Singer! Reader started their career covering mainstream songs, band songs, maybe even vocaloid. 

Their blue period started months before they planned to leave the manor. It was a simple cover of MARINA’s ‘Are you satisfied?’ A lot of burnt out overachievers ate that cover, even Tim himself. The song is basically the reader questioning the Wayne last name. Sure it was a goldmine to others but to them it’s a ticket to misery. One song cover turned into many song covers, enough to make a long playlist to play at 3 a.m. when you’re about to have a breakdown. 

The whole playlist? Batfam avoids it because it reminds them of the times they could have been giving you love but they didn’t BUT at the same time they can’t really avoid it. It became like those guilty pleasures playlist. Damian loves and hates reader’s ‘The Family Jewels’ cover because it reminds him of the fact that he and the reader are basically on the same boat. They were just children who needed attention and love. He got that attention and love immediately because of the whole league of assassins backstory. He won’t admit it but the weight of the role weighs like tonnes of iron on his shoulders. 

Jason, Bruce and Cigarette Ahegao will roll together so much. That man has twice the amount of trauma Bruce had and his coping mechanism sucks. All the aggressiveness was just a coping mechanism, underneath he’s a man with conflicted feelings and those years of being dead and suddenly being resurrected didn’t help. Let’s face it Bruce is a tired man who lives a double life. He's a man who dresses up like as a bat making sure the city is safe but he can't cover all grounds. The neglect on reader was unintentional but neglect is neglect.

Dick with reader’s cover of ‘Stressed out’ by Twenty one pilots, no explanation needed. ‘This is me trying’ by Taylor Swift with Cassandra, Stephanie, and Tim. Cassandra and Stephanie being raised by villains and Tim being an overachiever to have his parent’s attention. His parents being always away and realizing he basically did the same thing to the reader by making them feel invisible. 

Double guilt if they left the playlist on autoplay and ‘Daddy issues’ plays. Any version but I think the original fits the bill. Reader ends their blue period with a cover of Mother Mother’s ‘Burning Pile’ basically saying ‘Yeah fuck it, it’s over. I’m burning it, I’m leaving it, I’m closing the chapter’. But to the Batfamily, it meant renewal and turning a new leaf, an invitation to make things better.

[warandpeas]

The Scholar

[cyath]

This is an animated bit inspired by @dilatorywriting Monsters Mayhem: A Lion's Pride

*read it for context*

https://at.tumblr.com/dilatorywriting/monster-mayhem-lions-pride/1jso58c2f66x

Anyway~ To the author, their writing is just a m a z i n g. Each time they post it makes my day and just KSBSNAKKA i can't put it into words. They are one of my favorite writers and following them was one of the best decisions I've made on my short time of Tumblr. I send them much love and hope they are doing well and continue to grow with much love and support(•̀ᴗ•́)و Go follow tHeMMM, they are amazing

[threepandas]

Bad End: Out In The Cold

"What's this? A cold little mouse in my castle?"

Thick hair that wasn't mine spilled over my shoulder. As a familiar hand, warm and calloused, wrapped itself around my throat. I hadn't realized how cold the room had gotten, until her hand was there, skin warm against my skin. It had taken a while to get used to this.

I was grateful, in a way. For the the day she had done more then just scoff at my scarf. Telling me I would freeze. The way she had gotten worried. Pulled off her gloves, grumbling all the while, too fuss over me like some great mother bear. Hands warm but gentle, as the tucked themselves around my throat. Too better warm my blood, she had said.

It had been like a dam breaking.

And honestly? She WAS right. It was warm.

Now, whenever she so much as SUSPECTED I was cold? Her hand would sneak out to press against my pulse. Though, half the time, I suspected it was an excuse. She'd not had many chances for closeness in her life, I suspect. Calysta was the... ah, it was hard to translate, but... the CLOSEST translation? Was something like "Child of The Mountain Gods".

Or was it "Child of the Mountains AND the Gods"?

I was supposed to be writing a treatise on the subject. Gods knows no one ELSE would. Cowards. Bigots too. "Nothing but savages" my silk clad ASS. And they dare call themselves academics!? Ha! HA, I say! Both my professors and I would SPIT! (If it weren't WILDLY rude. I never COULD master that skill. I did try.)

Unfortunately, my professors, were too old to make the journey this far North. It hadn't stopped them from TRYING, when we had finally gotten permission. But... well. They barely made it too Wuntersgreen before the strain and cold became too much. They cried.

As the youngest? I was loaded down with their notes, questions, hopes and dreams, and sent on ahead. No one was impressed by me. The scrawny academic with her soft, soft hands. Never a day's fight in her. Didn't know how to do "anything". But? That had given their word to host me. So they did.

It's been AMAZING.

And I like to think I'm getting better!

Adapting. Learning how to do things and help around the castle. I even helped start a fire for the fireplace the other day! Before THAT? I learned how to set hunting traps... rather badly. I have yet to catch anything. But still! Progress, is it not?

Where was I? Ah, yes.

Calysta. Her rank is something between a Warlord and a King, as far as I can tell? It holds the respected sovereignty of a ruling monarch yet? Can be seized. Should she grow "weak". Is not NECESSARILY passed too one's children. They, presumably, have an ADVANTAGE... but? It goes too "the Chosen child of..." that word I'm still having some difficulty getting a good translation off.

And if I remember correctly, Calysta's brother's did NOT appreciate that. As they had been favored by her father. Showered with praise most of their lives. One of them ASSUMED to be the next leader.

They challenged her.

Did not back down.

Now? Now she has neither Father nor brothers. Not that it seems she had much of either to begin with. Frankly? I am GLAD she won. She is good for the North. Strong, steady, highly tactical. A wry wit. And a FEIRCE love for her people and culture. NO ONE will take it from her. Destroy these beautiful peoples.

I'm tugged back lightly, away from my desk to sit up properly against the back of my chair. The hand on my neck shifting softly, ever so slightly up, to cup the underside of my jaw. Tilting my head up so I can not see my work but must instead meet the eyes of my dear friend.

"Enough, little mouse." There is a fondness to the edge of her mouth, she is not one for great grins and wild expressions. It has taken me months to learn how to read her so well. "Your papers will still be there AFTER you warm up. Should be easier to right, don't you think, when you can actually feel your fingers again?"

I huff a laugh.

Honestly... where would I be with out her? Frozen to death, probably. I get entirely to fixated on my work. Food, drink, keeping the fire running. I notice none of it. Probably shrivel up and die. The fact she even takes the time to check on me? Dispite being as important as she is? Let NO ONE say Calysta does not CARE. She is a good person.

My legs feel numb and prickly, stiff, in that distinctly asleep and too cold sort of way, as I try to stand. Calysta has to wrap her arm around my waste and let me lean against her. She feels almost too hot against me. Another sure sign I have, indeed, allowed myself to get too cold. Oh dear.

With an exasperated snort, once it becomes clear my legs will probably not be recovering fast enough for her liking, Calysta decides she will speed things along. My legs are swept out from under me effortlessly. I don't even squeek anymore, this has happened so often. But I USED too.

It is how I became "mouse".

Now I just allow Calysta her way. She'll put me down when she wants to put me down. And honestly? It's kinda fun to be carried like a child. I feel tall. Weightless and somewhat decadent, it makes my heart beat a faster. And on somedays? All I want to do is go boneless. Allow myself to be HELD. Not that I'll ever tell. So Shhhhh, a secret to our graves, okay? It would make things awkward for her.

She strolls down the hall with me, too her office. No one so much as blinking an eye. We've become so common in our shenanigans, I imagine, it's become mundane. And... ah~ Calysta was RIGHT. I WAS cold. The fireplace in her office is full with logs burning away merrily. The windows we passed in the hall showed snow. It seems the storm's finally hit..

Instead of putting me down, Calysta heads for the couch. Turning and with a huff, flopping down, making both of us bounce a bit. Leaning back with me less in her arms now, so much as in her lap. The room is quiet. Hushed almost. The crackle of fire, the distant howl of wind, far away chatter of life, elsewhere in the castle.

Calysta has leaned back against the back of her office's couch. Head rested against the fur blanket draped against the back of it. The fur mixes with her riotous man of hair to create almost a halo, lit in golds by the fire's light. Her eyes are closed as she takes her moment. The fire light makes her face softer.

But never soft.

No force in all the world could make Calysta anything but the Queen she is. Dangerous and powerful. First into battle and last to leave. She is breath taking in the way all deadly things are, I think. Like blades and poison held up to the light. Predators and fires that burn.

"You're staring, little mouse." She says, voice nearly a whisper in the softness of the room. It is a rumble like mountains and the sweet call of dangerous things. She's always had such a commanding voice. I envy it. "Is my face so entrancing?"

She's smirking. Teasing me. I laugh and rest my head against her shoulder. Let myself drift as the chill in my bones fades away. The arm loosely around my waist to keep me from falling off, has taken to lightly stroking my back. Almost absent-mindedly. Occasionally, fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

A servant has come-by. Removed our shoes for us. Brought Calysta missives and responses. General updates. She shifts us. Tucking me against her as she lays down, tucking me between her body and the couch. Fuzzy blanket over me, arm wrapped around me. I... I feel boneless.

Safe.

Everything warm and quiet and far away.

Trusting, I doze off. Cuddling close and utterly content.

Calysta presses a kiss to the crown of my sleeping head. Let's her hand roam, just a bit, simply to feel the perfect way her little mouse fits right up against her. She was MADE for her. Born to be here. Still... she has to be... be GENTLE. Soft.

It's hard. She hasn't had much practice in that.

But good things are worth the struggle for them. True love is WORTH the time, the effort, to learn how the South romance. Figuring out how to woo her lil mouse as she deserves. Making sure she never leaves.

Speaking off...

She diges out the ridiculous fancy paper envelope at the bottom of the stack. Hidden, as per her instructions, so her little Mouse wouldn't see it. Another one, it seems, from that damn "House" of hers. Southern Clans were pretty damn presumptuous, weren't they? Had some fucking gall.

What did THIS one say?

Let's she... "come back at once" blah blah blah "how dare you ignore all our letters" blah blah "you WILL honor the engagement we've found for you, or ELSE" oh? Threats now, huh? Ah~? "Keep ignoring our letters and you'll be cast from House-" well, well~!

That's convenient.

One flick of the wrist, and the letter is in the fireplace. Burning away. Just like all before it. Oops. How difficult it is, to get news from the South. Her little mouse really SHOULD just forget about them. THIS is her home now. THEY are her people.

Her girl doesn't need anyone else.

"Don't worry, little love. I won't leave you out in the cold. You're gonna stay with me. Forever. I Promise."

[sanctuary1988]

Les Petals D'Amour | Gwi | Masterpost

Pairing: Gwi (the scholar who walks the night) x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

General Warnings: fluff, angst, blood, biting, general vampire stuff, secrets, obsession, twisted retail of beauty and the beast, death, character death, typical period misogyny, DARK ROMANCE, spiciness, love?, (specific warnings will be given in each chapter)

Total Word Count: in process

A/N: Welcome to my first fic on this new blog, darling! I finished watching TSWWTN like a month ago and I have officially fallen in love. I took one of the scenes to start this story that could serve as a prequel of the drama from Gwi's perspective. Like a backstory for him that we were denied on the show.

I really hope you will like it, loves. Please share your thoughts with me and feel free to ask me anything! From extra scenes for this story to what's the last thing I ate, I'd love to interact with you all!

*A/N: This story will be updated when I have the time to write, darlings. I'll do my best to keep it alive and ongoing but I have a lot on my plate right now. I'm doing this mostly for myself as I need some space to vent and create without pressure. This blog is a safe space for anyone and that obviously includes me. So please be patient when it comes to updates! I'm giving my all trying to balance my life with all the responsibilities I, myself, put over my already busy life. But be for sure that this story will be finished... someday.

**A/N: Darling, please mind the warnings on this post and on each chapter. I'm still pondering on whether I should include smut here or not as I personally think there should be a solid reason why there must be a spicy scene in a story but aside from that, this story will have some pretty dark contents and behaviours. Disturbing scenes may appear throughout the story and I am not responsible for your media consumption. Please, be careful, love.

~ Main Work

Chapter 1 | Handsome Stranger |2.3k words|

Chapter 2 | Owned Flower |2.4k words|

Chapter 3 | Caged Petal |2k words|

Chapter 4 | Silver Innocence |2.5k words|

Chapter 5 | Subtle Conscience |2.5k words|

Chapter 6 | A Flower For A Flower |4.2k words|

Chapter 7 | Reborn Petals Of Emotion |4k words|

Chapter 8 | Veil Of Temptation |4.5k words|

Chapter 9 | Fate's Cruel Hand |5.1 words|

Chapter 10 | The Heart Of The Poet |3.4 words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

𖹭 Interlude pt.1 |1.4k words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 11 | The Moon That Embraces The Sun |4.6k words|

Chapter 12 | Melodic Promises |5.5k words|

Chapter 13 | The Silence Of Solitude |3.2k words|

Chapter 14 | Stolen Rose Of A Promise |4k words|

Chapter 15 | Flames Of Passion |4.5k words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

𖹭 Interlude pt. 2 |2.2k words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 16 | Secret Of Darkness |3.4k words|

Chapter 17 | The Age Of Romance |3k words|

Chapter 18 | Echoes Of Eternity |4.2k words|

Chapter 19 | The Enemy's Lover

Chapter 20

────────────────────────────────────────────

Interlude pt. 3

────────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 21

???

~ Side Content...

Moodboard

The Playlist 🫶

Started: January/28/2024 Finished: ???

[cathedral-of-sinners]

alhaitham’s cock

[synthetickitsune]

Hello! I don't know if your requests are still open, but if they aren't just ignore this. May I request some romantic, fluffy & emotional content for Gwi (Scholar Who Walks The Night) with a human s/o who loves him deeply and is always gentle, caring and kind towards him? Like she genuinely respects him, and treats him with so much love? Cause look, I have theories about Gwi and affection. Namely that he was always treated like a beast and basically betrayed by his loves. But I think he is both touch starved and affection starved. Legit I feel like he'd melt for someone who gives him their heart sincerely, and sees him as a wise ancient being worthy of respect, rather than a monster to be destroyed.

PLEASE i could go on and on about my takes on gwi and affection and everything, he literally deserves so much more than he got </3 tbh i definitely will write more about this prompt because i want to give him at least some sort of happiness

Gwi (Scholar Who Walks the Night) | Affection fluff | 1k | (kind of implied) f!reader

Their voices join the water and blood dripping in the expanse of the cave, so do their faces, all of them just the background. If you were told they’re only another rock growth in the underground palace, you’d accept it without a second thought. So insignificant they were. Maybe not for the palace, for the grand scheme of things, but it’s always been easy to detach yourself from the world.

You’re not really looking at them, perhaps through them would be a better word. But when he speaks, your eyes surely find his profile and you pay attention. Most of what he says is mocking the humans standing before his throne. He’s sneering at them, taunting them. They can’t do anything about it. They can’t do anything to him. Everyone in the room knows it. So they come after the obvious easy prey.

“Gwi, isn’t it about time you got rid of the toy?” you know without looking at them that the official speaking is pointing at you. You’ve heard them mutter about him playing with his food before. And if you heard, he heard too.

“What toy?” the vampire asks, and you know that to them his voice is nothing but amused. But you don’t need his enhanced hearing to take precaution. When the backs of his fingers brush against your cheek, it must look to them like you’re motionless. You lean your body towards him just enough that he takes notice of your weight shifting on his lap. Just leaning into his touch isn’t enough. He’s a creature that deserves more respect than that. “Which one should I get rid of?”

If he only could look at both you and the subject before him, you know he would. Jealousy was never your strong suit. Even less so in the face of Gwi. Sometimes you’d get the feeling he doesn’t appreciate that. Other times you think he seems relieved. Either way, he was not for you, or any human, anyone, to own. You keep your eyes on him. The officials are predictable enough, all of them plotting, trying to figure out how to get their daughters involved, how to get closer to power. 

They sputter and back down as they always do. Trying their most to stay in Gwi’s good graces while crossing every boundary clearly set. It’s pathetic. And the vampire is as predictable as them, so you don’t flinch at all when the gentle caress turns into a death grip on your jaw while his fangs bury into the flesh of your neck.

They run away. Of course they do after the vampire’s mocking. They take it as a threat to their family, so you don’t blame them for closing their eyes and turning their back. It is a threat. Not a fully empty one either. But the officials and their petty palace drama and power struggle are irrelevant and definitely not the thing your mind wants to focus on as it grows fuzzy. Your body is getting weaker but you don’t panic. You hear your heart in your ears and it’s beating steadily.

“Your blood tastes so sweet,” his voice graces your ears, his bloodied lips gently pressing against your cheek not a second later, leaving a mark, “I never tasted anything like it. Is it because you’re not scared of me?”

It’s not the first time Gwi wonders aloud about your blood. Perhaps that truly is the reason, maybe panic ruins the blood, just like when hunters try to catch their prey unaware. It wasn’t always like this, and you entertain the thought of your will and desire overrunning even your instincts and biology. Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, so you can’t respond and he doesn’t force you to. Instead he guides your head to rest against his shoulder, allows your body to lean on his.

You feel a sense of guilt for being so weak. You wish he could feed from you all the time, drink your blood until he’s sated. He’s tried that in the past. He kept feeding from you day after day - as a desert, he’d claim - kept feeding from you right until you were on the verge of death. The doctors barely saved you. You never asked how did it happen that you were nursed back to health. Then again, did you need to? It was about that time that you started noticing that the officials despised you.

“Should I get rid of you?” he muses, and yet his arm is wrapped around you so tenderly it’d make you sleepy with comfort if it wasn’t for your desire to listen to him, “Should I set you free?”

You don’t think he’s playing with you, but then again Gwi is unpredictable at the best of times. Either way, it’s all the same to you. Your answer would always be the same.

“I’d worship you still,” you whisper, gathering your strength only to be shushed by the vampire holding you. There’s a smirk on his lips. Proud. But it softens. He knows. He knows. And maybe that’s why you get to be held by him.

“Worship is not a word many would use,” he sounds amused, and you enjoy how freely he converses with you. Not too long ago he’d be much more guarded. He’d snarl at you, make you feel like he’ll attack any moment. It’s a little surprising he allowed you to stay alive. You meet his eyes with a questioning look that he answers with a curious smile before he shakes his head. So you stay quiet.

He picks you up and carries you to the space he made for you, where your bed is hidden away from sight. You know once you wake up there will be a meal waiting for you to get your energy back. He lays you down and covers you with a blanket. He strokes your hair, reassuring you that you’re allowed to rest now. 

And so you slowly, obediently, fall asleep.

[screamingcrows]

Pyrogenic sprouts

Notes: I banged this out in what can only be described as a fit of delirium. Let this be my first venture into writing Wuthering Waves, unedited and made without a single thought in my mind except Mortefi spinning like a rotisserie chicken. I already know what direction this continues. Keep this out of AI. ~1.5k Tags: Mortefi x reader, first meeting, fluff Minors, blank and ageless blogs DNI

When the ground is scorched, pyrogenic plants are swift to repopulate the charred area, sprouting as soon as one day after the flames die out. They spread their roots and turn the soil, nourishing those that will come after.

Soon enough, the entire area will once more be lush and green, given a second chance at life after an event that should by all means have created an inhospitable wasteland.

Over the years, Mortefi had been forced to accept the reality of what he was. A walking time bomb that could be set off at a moments notice if circumstance aligned. Since the last time he overclocked, he'd been adamant in doing all within his power to temper the flames that raged within. For although he understood that as much as fires consumed they also birthed new life, he refused to be a culling destruction for any.

Except the tacet discords that were currently disintegrating on the ground. Burnt to ashes in a less literal sense than the countless angelicas, lemongrass, noctemint, and if the fresh scent wafting along the smoke was anything to go by, there'd been perillas as well. A pity those had been burned, they made for a satisfying addition to his candies.

His eyes closed for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady the adrenaline racing through his body, feeling the familiar crackle of sparks along his pectoral, never having gotten quite used to the pulsing of his tacet mark. The almost ritualistic motion of wiping his hands against his coat, despite never touching the enemy, was crudely interrupted when small hands, curiously rough, shoved at his chest.

It wasn't enough to knock him off balance, simply taking a step backwards to separate himself from the unfamiliar touch and cracking open an eye to be met with your enraged expression. Well, if you had the energy to be enraged, then the injuries you'd sustained could only be superficial. Which was lucky considering the profound lack of medical supplies currently on his person.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" your voice was a shrill thing, he mused, briefly scanning the surrounding area for potential threats you could attract with your cry of death, "You've ruined everything!"

For a moment, he thanked the upbringing he'd had, uncertain if commanding the calm exterior he did now would've been possible had he not spent his youth performing every second out of the mansion. At least you were being direct.

"I would hardly call providing assistance 'ruining' anything, miss," your stare remained unyielding as the thorns in the distance, only prompting a sigh from Mortefi, "I believe it would be prudent to let me escort you back, this area was recently deemed unsafe for civilians if you were unaware."

He might have chuckled at your frustrated whine if it didn't immediately tick him off to your impending denial. Truthfully, he didn't have time for this. A barely finished child-sized glider, with joints to flap the wings for a little extra airtime of course, lay waiting atop one of his counters. Not to mention the actual work that needed completion. Just because Jinzhou had averted crisis didn't mean progress could afford to halt.

The dismissal hand you were waving had Mortefi needing another deep breath, fingers itching for his lighter, "Leave me alone will you, you've cause enough problems for me already and I still have stuff to do."

Oh if only it was so easy to leave you to your own devices he would. But there you were, alone and unarmed as well. No sign of being a resonator either. This was just perfect. He'd forgone breakfast, having stayed up most of the night and just needed to collect a few feathers for the glider, wanting to finish and deliver the gift today, and he really didn't have time to assist some thankless civilian with their death-wish.

"I suggest you let me take you back and hire a guard next time."

How the lighter had made it into his hands was beyond him, only noticing when you scoffed incredulously, looking more like a scorned child than the adult you supposedly were. Or perhaps you were simply as adept at mimicry as the plants you so cared for.

"And I suggest you learn to stay out of other people's business," your voice had lost the brittle edge, replaced instead by pure annoyance.

He felt a pang in his chest, the look in your eye merging with that hint of helpless fury in your voice. It resonated with his memories. The ashes had slowly settled at least, and he silently mourned having blackened the edges of another coat. More to take care of once he was home.

As nonchalant as possible, he shoved the lighter back into his pocket and gestured for you to move, "get on with it then, I don't have all day."

At least you didn't argue, resigning to showing your displeasure in the stomping of your boots. Your name had a foreign sound to it, but knowing firsthand how tumultuous moving could be, he deigned it unimportant to pry further. The harshness of your words stood in sharp contrast to the occupation you divulged; a florist of all things. Though he supposed that did explain the volatile reaction to seeing a scorched field.

The realization that he'd spent seconds destroying what might have been several days worth of business did make stir in the pit of stomach, and for just a moment, he wondered if it would one day fill him as rage had if left unchecked.

Likewise, you'd gone eerily silent when he'd begun explaining his field of research. Tacetite weaponry didn't sit well with everyone. Mortefi was acutely aware and it wasn't a discussion he wished to have in his current state.

"Keep that lighter pocketed, you hear me?"

Mortefi grit his teeth, releasing the familiar metal back into his pocket, observing as you squatted down and began cutting stems and peeling back leaves with surprising efficiency, quickly collecting a sizeable pile of various flowers and greenery. The latter to fill out bouquets he presumed. He ran a hand through his hair, grunting softly when it came back a little moist. Wonderful, he'd need to shower properly before returning to the academy.

"How long before you collect wares again?" The question lingered heavy as smoke for a minute, almost making him regret asking.

"Tomorrow, I collect daily," your voice was almost pleasant now that you were focused on something else. He felt the familiar twitch in his fingers, aching to busy himself instead of standing around like a helpless moron.

"I would advise you to find a different area, the frequencies have been chaotic here for a while, a tacet field is expected to show up within days."

The shrug of your shoulders was expected, and thus did nothing significant to sour his mood. You'd been warned, anything beyond was your own responsibility. Perhaps he should offer to make a shield, or a weapon of some sort, even if you weren't trained for combat, a simple explosive should be manageable, or a portable turret maybe? Maybe a sentinel drone, one that would detect shifts in the air and alert you before tacet discords could manifest?

But that wouldn't be any use against local wildlife. Not unless he programmed some feature that would let it discern potentially harmful creatures. It would be doable, and he should already have most of the parts for it.

"And I will once again ask you, Mortefi, to stay out of my business, what is it with you scholars?" Mortefi opened his eyes at the sound of his name just in time to see you shove a large bundle of cut flowers into his arms before continuing under your breath, "honestly, there must be something in the water you drink at the academy."

Mortefi couldn't help but feel a smile tug at his lips, what a ridiculous theory, "curiosity is the essence of progress," he paused for a moment, not bothering to argue with serving as a pack animal, he was already in this far, "Speaking of, I have several ideas that might-"

"I'm not turning a big enough profit to invest in some inventor, I'll continue as I have."

The scent of flowers continued to cling to him long after helping you arrange the flowers at your humble stand, rickety wooden frame desperately in need of a helping hand. It left a trail of pungent sweetness even after showering, and he found himself needing to pop another candy into his mouth to not mutter something at the countless researchers staring at him as he trekked to his laboratory.

Toys quickly finished, he began drafting up various designs for a little sentinel. Perhaps it could serve to carry your harvest as well if he was a little clever about the logistics and specifications of it's components.

Part 2

[the-readers-archive]

“Your room is a reflection of your mind”

Chaos, heartbreak, and literature haunt my restless mind…

[buzzybee3]

I was just given the most beautiful of ideas

Now let’s just hope I can follow through….

[cyath]

He is just so GAJJAHSJWKA<33 One of my faves

Edit: I almost forgot to add the scar LMAO 💀💀

[serenelia]

ᴘᴇʀᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Content includes: SFW, mentions of fire and explosion, pair of Kokomi and reader (who is named as "the scholar" in this fanfic), use of non binary pronouns.

Scroll away if you do not entertain fanfics of Kokomi, slow burn, and a multi-chapter series. next part

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

In the southern side of the ethereal island of Watatsumi, home to the faithful followers of the deceased god, Orobashi, where the hushed steps of the roaming scholar are lost amidst the ruffle of the trees, its colorful environment proving to be a raring view amongst the people who have yearned to visit, the lush pink grass taking sprouts in the ground along with the miniature flowers, nuzzling itself to its own kind in a comfortable embrace, tended carefully by the crashing waves of the endless surrounding sea, a constant looming threat to the vulnerability of the island, the residents offer tender smiles as if to appease its ever-changing emotional state. The delicate graze of the wind against their skin sends an unwarranted chill to their spine, a reminder of the lack of layers worn, free from the uniform provided by the Akademiya, only to be proven uncomfortable with its absence.

The moon reflects a soft glow on the horizon, and only the dim light provided by the numbered street lamps allows the scholar to navigate their way towards the designated area for departure. It’s undeniable that their stay here has been a memorable one, if one excludes their main reason for travel is the gathering of participants. Yet they could only wish to prolong their stay; any effort made to fulfill it will only brand them as a fool for believing the pathetic excuse of “stress” will cause any form of sympathy to take root in the professor’s heart. The deadline of their research is nearing, being the perfectionist of a scholar they are, their attention is wholly focused on completing the assigned tasked. Any desire they possess will always be placed at the bottom.

Despite being limited, it has proven to be a sensible use of time to break free from the clutches of the scorching weather of Sumeru. No matter how temporary, being void of the irritable faces from their class does well for their health. The scholar hums at the thought, their humor crowned to be of taste by their own self.

As the miscellaneous voices of the resident’s echo throughout their mind, so does the inexhaustible confession of love conserved by said people towards their home. Any question they had voiced brought forth such feelings into their answer; it rings continuously in their mind, a memorable point to be made in the final results of their survey.

They gaze out into the waves below; the crunch of grass beneath their feet, followed by a pitter-patter of water, causes a shift in their gaze and lands on their shoe, now containing a sparse stain. The soil, although beautiful in color, was almost the opposite in terms of conditions. It’s waterlogged. In hindsight, it appears to be a momentary issue born from the recent cries of the sky; the questions were unnecessary, and the rationalization was obvious by itself.

How wrong everyone was to declare such.

Perhaps the old behavior in their previous Darshan is simply influencing them once again; they weren’t alien to other subjects of research, thus why they somehow were able to cover a topic about the elements affecting domains to the governance in Inazuma. That, however, does not validate their undying curiosity for the plant life in Watatsumi.

And before they knew it, the scholar’s heart thrummed with excitement as they humored themselves with a glimpse of its possible chemical composition, overriding the previous rush concerning their destination, now tucked away at a corner in their mind.

The rapid pace in their walking turns into slow strides. With a hand to their chin, they spot a peculiar-looking state of land; holes are evenly distributed along the ground; a scarcely made cross wearing a blue piece of clothing and a straw hat stands at the far side; they blink. Was this supposed to be a farm land of some sort? Realization, together with mild surprise, fades into a wry frown, it brings them to stop moving completely in order to evaluate the poor use of the land. A simple touch of their hand brought it to its doom; not a single shred of activity to be found.

The rotting corpses of the vegetables were all drained of color; an awful stench fills the air if they as much as make an attempt to venture further inside, preventing them from satisfying their wish to evaluate the work done. Afar, not much was fit for judgement, apart from the obvious signs of pre-existing edits of the human hand, which were the reason for its pitiful state. The economic impact of the island was never something that troubled the residents; any consideration in advancing such is unconsidered, partly because of the ill-conditioned land they possess and finding the prices and value of the special sango pearls produced by the island enough to supply.

So why engage in the half-baked farm? An attempt to broaden their resources and fit themselves the title of independence that served no purpose at the end? Further houses make a stable town if, that is, they have seen the foundations of the houses built, suitable for the area right above the village. A deafening crash of the water made them reconsider; perhaps it is unfit for the uncertainty the sea holds.

One of the things the island considers itself high in is quality presentation, supported by the boastful voices of the people. It’s a wonder why this common choice of a location for leisure walks remains to contradict the magnificence Watatsumi constantly emits.

The similar case in Tatarasuna flashes in their mind upon further speculation. The scholar couldn’t resist the sigh that escapes their mouth; a scowl firmly forms on their face at the obvious answer.

Another scholar had chosen Watatsumi Island as their research point—research or thesis? They hardly care. It wasn’t particularly an odd choice, in fact, they’ve recalled a group of their kind discussing it before. The decision to leave this mess brings a sour taste to their mouth.

That is to say, it is merely a speculation; nothing can be dictated holding a tone of sincerity if other factors aren’t considered. The probability of it being true wouldn’t be surprising at the least, much like the other events when the scholar’s intuition and logic prove them to be a trustworthy source of reference.

They shake their head; it’s important to be reminded of their departure as the desire to investigation resurfaces. The precautionary decision of advancing their items ahead and their leave at the temporary residence they resided in do wonders for the distractible scholar; the formerly mentioned rush is a byproduct from their previous experiences.

It dawns on them the calculation of the remaining ground they have to cover in order to arrive, the destination becoming more further than they initiated, if one considers their limited attention span. A simple, unkempt flower entertains them greatly, especially now that the very place they stand on is undeniable in its beauty.

The scholar’s attention swiftly maneuvers itself onto the neglected scene presented beyond the occasional jellyfish-shaped bubbles rising from the grass and the luscious bushes that hide the magnificent view of the famous shrine, which stood in the middle of the island to gloat its dominion over all. The eerie quietness of it all effectively produces dopamine within the harassed mind of the scholar.

A sense of longing tugs at their heart at the sight, a rare feeling to be felt if one were residing in the cramped rooms of the Akademiya, yet nothing can be done except tear their eyes away and resume the journey.

The exceptional sensation of relaxation causes Kokomi to heave a euphoric sigh of relief at the sound of her bones cracking upon stretching her fatigued arms. The lack of warmth on the wooden chair prevents the experience from gaining her an extra energy point even at the hidden cove of her own, shouldering the peace and solitude of the esteemed Divine Priestess away from prying eyes that demand attention.

The day had drained her of energy—a remarkable amount at that. Her previous strategy of retreat inside the imagination the books on military prowess provide displayed ineffectiveness, much to her dismay. A carefully taken nap would recharge her significantly; only the continued onslaught of scheduled meetings and scripted directives plaguing her delayed her rest. Even so, being the master tactician she naturally is, her previous self had anticipated problems like this and readily prepared another way to ease her nerves.

Hence why she finds herself in front of the ocean after making multiple detours in order to escape the residents, the darkness of the night, and the bustle of soldiers aiding the tired girl. With her head held high as the refreshing air tickles her skin, the tension previously in her shoulder’s melts away along with the exhale let out to resonate with the wind.

As if sensing the Priestess’ distress, the waves offer comfort through its gentle caress to her ankles at her approach, inviting her in subtly. In a hidden rush, Kokomi takes careful steps into the cold water until she has fully submerged herself, accustomed to the temperature. The recognizable drop in gravity as her lungs grow accustomed to entering another world, just after trespassing the fine line above forged by the gentle waves, does she gaze upon the flamboyant environment hidden under the blue blanket it grows in.

            A wealth of rocks and corals sprout in different widths and lengths from the sandy ocean floor; the grass is no different from the appearance in her home; on the contrary, most of it is pigmented in the pastel pink and streaks of purple that paint her island. It’s bustling with activity; a hurricane of fish filled with its own breed leave no holes as to escape the lingering predators; an unsuspecting alga begun to cover the cracks of the broken home of a colony even at the expense of it swallowed by; sharks circling one another to assert dominance over a freshly caught prey; a squid stretching out its tentacles to capture an escaping crab, hidden in its shell; the shaky lines formed on the floor made home by the rays hiding beneath; as the current pulls a couple of them along with her; a few oysters retreat in their perspective shells at her passing, threatened by a larger body floating by.

Every aspect of the lively ocean does good to bring a smile to the Priestess’ face. The conflict over the failed attempt at negotiation for further opportunities for her homeland pales in comparison upon seeing and realizing how little it all appears to be in the face of the broad ocean. A sense of infatuation warms her chest. It’s always a wonder to be reminded of how much clarity the ocean holds, how insignificant everything seems to be if she were to take a moment to step back from her title and appreciate a brief yet enamoring moment of serenity.

            Kokomi swims further out until she reaches nearly the edge of her island. A couple of fish who were familiar with her have followed her into the murky depths, where the numbing cold of the water transforms into a chill in her marrow. A few had left, not without a reason to.

A group of them had begun to swarm around her after she pressed her knees against her chest, closing her eyes and focusing on the cold embrace the ocean comforted her with. She sneaks a peek at them, noting how similar yet different they all are.

Every one of these small beings all have their own intimate lives, just as any living being does; a direction walked by their own, each with a will to follow. A will that must be respected, no matter how insignificant it seems, as no matter how much people fixate about their own dilemmas, nothing in this world is truly eternal.

She holds a hand out, met by a certain number of fish whirling away in a panic; the ones who stayed only humored her hand briefly before swimming by her again.

Only the will and aspirations of humanity can withstand the erosion of time.

Something massive looms over her head in that moment, blocking the little light shined by the moon and causing a sudden shift in the water, raising the alarm of every fish near her and including her as well, only for her to dismiss it just as quickly at the realization it was merely a whale. It lets out a bellowing moan, and Kokomi smiles. It’s fascinating to her to think that so much is hidden, a language limited to the creatures, one that humans could only wish to understand, is completely available at all times, yet it remains to be a mystery. It holds information crucial to giving meaning to endless questions, even to irrelevant ones.

But then again, is any knowledge irrelevant?

In the thick of the cold and deeps depths of the ocean, a distant, muffled sound piques Kokomi. She was careful in turning her head to the origin of the sound; it’s peculiar, it most definitely doesn’t belong to any sea creature, and it’s unlikely for any monster to venture this far out into the ocean.

            She kicks her feet and floats upwards, her company following shortly until most of them take an interest in the larger mammal; no other fish was willing to accompany her once she was near the surface. The indistinguishable sound grew louder and clearer, taking the familiar form of human voices, making a ruckus. It was only then that she had noticed the ship entering the territory of Watatsumi; the larger body of the whale had blocked her vision from ever noticing it.

She wasn’t daring enough to make an appearance outside of the water, so she settles just far enough to make no clear reflection yet provide herself a view of the crewmen aboard along with the ship itself. It’s shape and the banner it holds are the ones built in Inazuma, though smaller than most boats she normally sees ashore, lit by small lanterns. Only the crew onboard seem to wear colorful outfits, with nothing to cover their stomach area, a particular uniform she has no knowledge about, and a closer inspection would be unwise.

            The possibility of the Fatui making an attempt to regain influence over Watatsumi Island seems plausible enough, taking into consideration the limited knowledge they had over the supplies they had given for free and a desperate time it was. This was quickly refuted, however, as it was unlikely. The defense deployed by her General was effective against their agents posted previously.

Targeting their island repeatedly would present itself as a desperate move for the island’s natural resources, that being mostly their renowned sango pearls, she finds it hard to believe it would validate the stain in their image after.

            But before she is able to ponder more, the volume of the men has increased, panic-stricken by the sounds of it. By what? She couldn’t pinpoint. And so, she focuses intensely on the possible words being conveyed with the best of her ability, only able to make out a string of shrieks and a few mentions of sharks and shoot.

It dawns on her a moment too late, and a loud groan rings loudly in her ears before she can register anything else. Her hands went to cover her ears, eyeing the ship with furrowed brows. She will not tolerate any disrespect to the sea creatures she so adores!

            She was quick to resurface herself, not paying any attention to the cold breeze that greets her. The hydro vision gifted to her by the Greater Beings glows on her chest upon activation. Kokomi steadies herself on the surface of the water, taking a glance at the whale from before as a flash of light whooshes by to her horror.

Another much louder groan was elected by the whale, spots of blood colored the natural blue of the sea, an arrow’s burnt tip stuck out from it, fueling the rage felt by the Priestess.

            She strides towards the ship, raising her hand, “Halt-!”

Suddenly, a fire-tipped arrow lodges itself on the delicate wood of the ship, and it erupts in flames, causing screams of terror that are not excluded to the people on board. Kokomi made a dash towards the fire, growing worse and absorbing the entire ship in the few seconds it took for her to robe herself in her ceremonial garment. Cold sweat drips down her back as her steps grow more desperate to reach it.

            From a distance, she can see most of the people jumping down on the other side of the ship, while others try to extinguish the fire swallowing the ship or find some items to salvage.

Dread fills her like never before. “Get off! Get off the ship and jump in the water!”

Kokomi yells, to her best effort, short instructions to get them to safety, but it fell on deaf ears from an explosion on the side of the ship, breaking it in half. Silhouettes of men are flung out high in the air before ending up crashing into the ocean. She was only able to save a few with help from her jellyfish summons, softening their land.

            She takes them further away from the ticking ship and nearer to shore; it will be a lengthy journey, though the act of healing them now would drain her of much energy to maintain her robe, so she held back on the idea, choosing a selected few of the critically injured to give ample treatment for now.

Her eyes are easily directed to the queer clothing of the amateur sailors; a variety of white, red, black, and grey are distributed among their clothing. It is a light yet durable fabric, seemingly suited for an arid climate. A shared trait among them, no matter the gender, is a red band covering their eyes.

            They seem to originate from a distant region, a far cry from the isolated region of Inazuma. Yet for what purpose is their arrival at such a late time?

The ship fully explodes in the background, snapping her out of her thoughts for the moment. She’s sure this will alert the soldiers already, especially her capable General; it’s only a matter of time before her questions will be answered.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

3k words and made in a matter of 3 weeks... The title was on purpose btw. Working on the next chapter as we speak, I hope I can finish it before school pulls me back in. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Any form of support keeps me motivated, so don't be shy in spamming if you wish.

[wanderingxiao]

Thirst post~ What If you’re in class with Wanderer and he gets super needy? Mmm~ yes baby! Wanderer is addressed as “Scara” ;)

Suggestive Themes, 18+ only plz~ 💜

✨Wanderer’s Teasing Touches✨

“I swear if you get any closer, Scara. I’m really going to punch you.”

“Heh, you don’t have the courage to do such a thing in class. It’s rather pathetic seeing you so worked up over a few innocent touches. You’re just that needy for me aren’t you?”

God sometimes you really hated this prick. The shit-eating grin on his face was enough to make your blood boil and your fists shake with anger. How did you even begin dating the Wanderer in the first place? It was probably his undeniable attractive features. He was Ill-mannered the first day you met him and he still was, how did you find his personality bearable enough to continue seeing him? You knew that answer. You loved him. Even his stupid condescending words, annoyed and often times judgmental looks, all of it you had grown to love. That doesn’t mean he still didn’t annoy the hell out of you. Just like he is now. His cold hand is rested on your thigh, rubbing light circles. Seems romantic right? Wrong. Not when you’re in class at the Akademiya trying to focus on class when his hand keeps inching closer and closer to your heat.

“Let’s undo these, they’re in my way.” His slender fingers began to stealthily work your pants undone, pushing the silver button through the sewed hole and grasping the golden zipper. Your hand reaches under the table, swatting his hand away as best you can in order to be discreet, but his stealthy fingers get your pants unzipped and down before you can stop him. “Ah, ah, focus on the lecture. Or else you’ll make a failing grade on this next exam. Wouldn’t that be a shame for the straight A goody too shoes to get a bad grade?” His condescending words did nothing to sway your focus on the professor and the exam material. He was really testing the restraint you had not to strangle him at that moment. “I promise we can do it later, just please not here.”

“Tsk, but I want you now. And I take what I want, when I want it. Especially things that are mine.” His slender fingers padded a damp area building in your panties, rubbing slow and antagonizing circles against your core. His touch was cool yet burning all in the same instance. Your body stiffened, legs trying to close on his hand to stop his movements, but you should’ve known that wasn’t going to work. He was unrelenting. “Would you look at that? Already so wet from some simple touches. You might hold yourself on a pedal stool, but face it. We both know you’re just a dirty, perverted, slut.” God you loved it when he called you such degrading and dirty things. You knew he didn’t actual mean his words In the full context, but the fact was that you were a slut for him and him alone. “Your body is more honest than you are. It’s pathetic how weak you are to a man’s touch… you let other men touch you like this?”

“N-No… only you-“ a hand went to your mouth quickly, trying to stifle your own shuddering moan when he started to press harder against your core, moving tantalizingly slow towards a puffy bundle of nerves that rocked your world. A low and teasing chuckle bubbles from his chest, low enough not to draw attention to you both. Your eyes honed in on the professor, shaky to continue focusing on the lecture. “That’s right. You only submit to me like this. You submit only to me, your world, your god.” Your body betrayed you, slowly bucking your hips into his hand, desperate for more of his sensationally electric touch. His voice dropped with sedative seduction, pushing you closer and closer to succumbing to his demands for your body. “Scara… please…”

“You’re getting weak on me now? Before you wanted me not to touch you at all and now you’re sitting here, hot and flustered from this? I should punish you for being such a fucking whore.” His tongue was deathly sharp, pointed edges sticking to every little syllable that fell from his oh so soft lips. You could feel your legs shaking, utterly humiliated by how his lewd and degrading words turned you on. Your hand rested on his thigh under the table, making him stop his movements and come closer to your ear. His large hat covered your head, slightly covering your flushed face. “When did I give you permission to touch me with your filthy dirty hands?” His voice was dark yet so sexy. Suddenly, he plunged two finger deep inside you, letting out a husky and blissful breath against your ear. You quickly closed your mouth and clenched your jaw tightly not to make a sound, your hands leaving him to clench his wrists shakily as a means of support for yourself. “Don’t fucking touch me without my permission first. Is that understood?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth pretty much sewn shut in order not to let out a loud moan in front of the entire class. His fingertips wiggled slightly before pulling out slightly to ram his fingers back inside, making a small lewdly wet sound. “I said… is that understood?” You nodded your head quickly, removing your death grip on him slowly, letting him have his way with you. He chuckled and gave a small hum into your ear, his tongue coming out to lick the shell of your ear, his large hat covering the sexual scenes from anyone that dared to look. “Good girl. Now spread your legs more for me.” You did as he said, now completely abandoned your earlier protests. He was just too good, it’s impossible to deny him anymore. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to hug him, touch him, you wanted him to be inside of you. Your eyelashes fluttered as your kids covered your needy eyes, finally nearing your limit. “Scara-“

“I’ll stop there today, see you next class.” Your eyes opened quickly. Everyone was getting up and packing their things to leave the classroom. “Awe, too bad for you.” Wanderer pulled his fingers out and wiped them rudely on your clothes before he gathered his own things and stood. Your hands fumbled with the zipper and button of your pants before you stood with him, eyes narrowing with disappointment. “You better finish what you started… asshole.” A chuckle sounded from the indigo haired man, his dark lavender eyes turning back to stare at you with amusement. “Hah? Since when are you the one to order me around?” You pouted and grabbed your books, holding them tightly against your chest trying to rid yourself of the feeling of your ruined orgasm. He rolled his eyes at your pouting face before breathing out a sexy laugh. “Awe, don’t worry your pretty little head. Just wait till we get home…”

“…I’ll ravage you until you break.”

Got a thirst? Lemme know! I love imagining Scara/Wanderer in sexy situations~ hehe, fluff is always welcome too. Dis man is gonna be the death of me one day I swear 😍💜

-WX

[sanctuary1988]

~ Secret Of Darkness |16| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: fluff, angst, romance!, mentions of sex, love, confession, kissing, battling of emotions, TENSION!, flower is described to be shorter than Gwi, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: Hello everyone! I know it has taken me some time to update (sorry about that) but I'll let you know why in another post later but like GUYS, I was so excited to publish this chapter I barely edited O.O Please excuse any grammar mistake, I'll fix it all tomorrow. Promise! ALSO, we are already +60k words 😲 so thank you all so much for all the support, love and enthusiasm this story has received, really thank you. I hope you like this chapter and again, thank you so much!

Enjoy, darlings❤️❤️❤️

Tagging: @my-day6 | @yumisventingmachine | @yukihatesreoyo | @anonymous2828 | @solivagant444 | @emneedshelp |🙈❤️*let me know if you liked to be tagged or if you want me to get you off my taglist!

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

The room was filled with the flickering, dying candles from the day before. The soft petals from the cherry blossom continued to fall on their endless crusade as you slept soundly next to Gwi. Nestled under the covers as your head rested on top of his bare chest. The warmth of his skin against yours kept you under a spell of dreamless rest. One of his hands rested behind his head while the other caressed your back in soothing motions, marvelling at the softness of your skin under his fingertips. Those large hands that had brought death to so many people over decades now held you with tenderness under the covers of your bed. 

The long hours of the night stretched on and even as he didn’t sleep, he kept every second of every minute completely mesmerised by your existence next to him. 

With a deep softness in his eyes he watched you sleep, taking in the details that marred your beauty. The way your lashes brushed over your skin, how your hair framed your face, the soft parting of your lips that he wished to kiss again. And the way your hand curled against his chest as if you were reaching for him even in your sleep. 

It was an image, a dream he could have lived in forever. A painting of perfection that softened the edges of his dark existence. 

Gwi shifted slightly, careful not to wake you as his hand moved to brush a stray cherry blossom petal that had landed on your shoulder. His fingers lingered there for a moment, tracing the line of your collarbone, savouring the intimacy of holding you so close it nearly hurt his frozen heart. You stirred but did not wake. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you snuggled closer to him in your sleep, seeking the warmth of his body as he held you closely. 

The sight stirred something deep inside him, something that had long been dormant. The way you trusted him so completely, so utterly, unaware of the danger you lay beside. You didn’t know what he was—what he truly was—and he intended to keep it that way.

His hand moved to your hair, his fingers tangling the silky (h/c) stands as he whispered words that were not meant for you to hear. Said only for the shadows to witness among his aching heart. 

“If only you knew… just how precious you are to me, petal.” 

The weight of his words hung heavy in the stillness of the room. There was a possessiveness in his voice, but also a tenderness that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like a lifetime. You had changed something in him, stirred feelings he thought he had long since buried.

But with those feelings came a fierce protectiveness—a desire to shield you from everything, including the truth. You saw him as your protector, your lover, and that was all he wanted to be for you. You didn’t need to know about the darkness that coursed through his veins, the centuries of bloodshed and loneliness that had shaped him into what he was now.

You didn’t need to know that the man sleeping beside you, the man who held you oh so tenderly, the man who whispered sweet promises of eternal love; was not a man at all. 

Gwi’s hand stilled in your head as he leaned down and pressed a delicate kiss on the top of your head. The scent of you, the sweet blood that coursed through your veins, the rose scent that clung to your body like a shadow, the delectable aroma of the cherry blossom and the perfume of your skin was intoxicating to him in a way that made his fangs hurt in a way he had to fight to suppress. His eyes threatened to taint crimson with his desires and his pulse accelerated. 

But then, you stirred again, taking in a deep breath as your eyes fluttered open. You woke up slowly, feeling loved and warmth as a content hum escaped the back of your throat the moment you realised—you remembered—where you were. Who you were with. 

“Morning…”

It came out as a whisper, your voice still thick with the remnants of sleep as you shifted and looked up at Gwi. 

“Morning, my flower.”

His voice was low and smooth, the way it always was when he spoke to you. There was a moment of silence as you simply stared at each other in a soft waltz of spring love. Your fingers traced soft patterns over his chest as you basked in the warmth that surrounded you and the soft light of the flickering candles. 

“How long have you been awake?”

You asked, yawning cutely as you pressed yourself closer to him; if that was even possible. Gwi chuckled, a rare yet delicious deep sound that rumbled through his chest as his eyes never left yours. 

“A while.”

“You should have woken me up.”

One of his large hands came up, gently cradling your cheek in his large palm while his thumb ran over the smooth skin of your face. 

“I didn’t want to”

His fingers brushed a strand of hair, tucking it behind your ear. 

“I wanted to let you rest, my sweet flower. You looked peaceful. It looks like I tired you too much last night.”

A deep blush tainted your cheeks at the mention of last night. You broke eye contact and he smirked lovingly down at your sudden shyness. You remembered his soft promises of love, his passionate touches and his kisses of fire. The way he had made you reach such euphoric sensations over and over again until you fell asleep in his arms. Gwi had awakened something primal within you, but it was something that had always been his to claim. Your pleasure was his to own and possess, and there was no-one else in the world you’d have given yourself to as you did to him last night. 

You smiled, feeling the love in his teasing words, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind his gaze. Something hidden in the depths of his eyes that he wasn’t telling you. But you dismissed the thought, choosing instead to sink back into the moment, the comfort of his touch and the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“I could stay like this forever.”

He hummed softly at your murmured words after a beat of silence passed between you both. And yet his peace was shattered by your words. Forever was a powerful word. His eyes darkened as he looked down at your peaceful features relaxed next to him. And it became pretty obvious that that was the exact thing he couldn't give you. Forever. But the truth was like a shadow over a beautiful spring afternoon, obscuring the sun and shattering what little hope of happiness he had. 

For him, forever was real. But for you, the idea was far more fragile than what he could elaborate. 

Still, his arms tightened around you, wishing too that this single moment could stretch on to eternity. Gwi had to anchor his racing and anxious mind with the feel of your body against his as if he could keep you with him by sheer will alone despite the cruel inevitability of time. 

“You will always be mine, flower.”

His voice was soft, words whispered to the wind that was more of a promise to him than to you. And as the cherry blossoms continued their gentle descent, Gwi vowed once again to protect you from everything—even the truth—if it meant keeping you by his side.

You stood in your room, putting on a beautiful hanbok where the top was a delicate shade of coral pink, hugged your figure just enough to showcase its simplicity and grace. A ribbon tied neatly at the waist held the fabric in place, its pristine white accents framing the cuffs and collar, providing a gentle contrast to the vibrant top.

While the skirt flowed like a whisper around your legs, its soft beige fabric textured and light, catching the air with every movement you made. The skirt, full and graceful, seemed to glide along the ground, its layers revealing just the faintest hint of lace beneath, intricate and refined. The combination of textures, from the smooth silk of the jeogori to the gentle folds of the chima, gave you an ethereal quality, as though you were a vision from a forgotten era.

Gwi watched you with tender eyes as he lay on your bedding, his outer robe opened and displaying his honey skin beneath the fabric as he leaned on his elbow and watched you with a mixture of admiration and desire.

His keen eyes watched as you applied some rose powder on your cheeks, highlighting your cheeks. A cherry red paper was caught between your lips as you bit it softly to add colour to your kissable lips. 

“How are you so beautiful?”

His dark murmur made you freeze in your spot, your eyes flickered to him through the mirror as you smiled softly, adding more beauty to your already ethereal features the vampire was so enamoured with. 

“How are you so handsome?”

The vampire lord chuckled, the sound a deep and smooth, like a rumble from a fading thunder storm during summer. His dark eyes gleamed with a deep intensity, making you feel as if he could see right through the layers of soft fabric and straight into your very soul. 

“You flatter me,”

You gulped at the sound of his voice as it sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyes locked with his through the mirror.

“But no matter how handsome you think I am, it pales in comparison to the way you captivate me, petal. I could watch you for a thousand years and never tire of the sight.”

You turned from the mirror, your cheeks warming at his words, though you tried to play it off with a teasing smile.

“A thousand years? You do say the most impossible thing, Lord of my heart.”

His gaze darkened for a moment. A split second as he took in your shy words. He pushed himself up fully, standing in a slow, graceful movement that had you mesmerised. His robe slipped further open, exposing more of his toned chest, but it was his eyes that held you, deep and unwavering.

“And yet, here you are. Defying the impossible everytime I look at you.”

Gwi murmured as he stood behind you in just a few quick steps. One of his hands rested on your shoulder, his skin touching the fabric that covered your body from his eyes, his touch light but filled with reverence. 

Your eyes met his through the mirror once more, feeling the intensity in his gaze, the many things that were left unspoken between you both. For they existed in a language neither of you spoke but could only feel. His words, the way he looked at you—had a powerful weight to it. Something more than just the affection between lovers and tangled souls. Something deeper. Something darker. 

It was as if he spoke of things far beyond your understanding, of promises you hadn’t yet made but that he already felt.

His long, pale fingers found the delicate strands of your hair as it fell over your back, reaching near your hip as you looked at how mesmerised he was at simply touching you in such an innocent way. 

The candles flickered ominously as you observed the subtle line of concentration as he began playing with your hair. Running his fingers through the strands before he began twisting it and braiding it with a tenderness that belied the anger he had felt when he had taken you out of the burning mansion that once belonged to your father but was now left in crumbled ruins. 

His long fingers, usually so strong and decisive, now worked with surprising gentleness as he gathered strands of your hair and wove them together with a focus that made your heart flutter.

“I’m not doing it right, am I?”

He muttered, his tone uncharacteristically unsure. He paused in his braiding to look at his handiwork, a few strands slipping loose despite his careful efforts. You turned your head slightly, peeking at the mess he had made in the mirror, a soft laugh escaping your lips. 

“It’s perfect.”

You smiled up at him as you said it but Gwi huffed, not at all convinced yet your smile and the way you had laughed at the silly moment softened his frustration. He leaned forward, resting his chin on the top of your head as he looked at you through the mirror. 

“You are a terrible liar.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips and he adored the sound, loving the way your eyes squeezed at the action of laughing or how your nose scrunched ever so softly. 

“Perhaps, but it’s still sweet that you tried.”

Your hand held the slightly uneven braid before you stepped forward and reached over the small table next to the mirror for your red rose hairpin, the one he had given you what seemed like moons ago. 

Gwi watched as you rolled up the braid before you secured it with the hairpin, a few strands framed your face as you looked at your reflection and he was sure you were a portrait from an ancient dream of his. There was no way you were so beautiful, so enchanting before his eyes. You had a light within yourself. A light that reached even his dark world he had been drowning in for centuries. 

A sudden melancholy flashed through his eyes as he remembered the secret he held from you. The nature of his existence and how he could never tell you but knowing that, eventually, you are going to be aware of the monster that he is. And even if he could stop the sun from showing up everyday, there was no way he’d be able to hide it forever. 

His gaze lingered on your reflection a little too long, that unspoken weight you often saw hidden behind his affection glinting in his dark eyes. You turned around, your smile faltering a bit as you looked up at Gwi. 

“What is it?”

Gwi’s eyes shifted, the darkness in them deepening for a moment before he forced a smile that didn’t quite reach them. He straightened, pulling away slightly, his hands slipping from your shoulders to rest at his sides. His lips parted as if he wanted to answer, but no sound came. His silence filled the room, stretching between you like an invisible barrier.

You stepped closer, your fingers brushing the fabric of his robe, and the touch seemed to pull him back from whatever shadowed thoughts held him. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin with the same tenderness he had shown while braiding your hair. But now, there was something else in his gaze—something heavy, something unrelenting. A weight he carried alone, and you could feel it, even if you didn’t understand it. Or he didn’t let you understand. 

“Nothing.”

He had said. His voice was soft but tinged with shadows you weren’t able to chase away with your worrying gaze and deep love. It sounded strained, rehearsed even. 

“It’s nothing, my flower.”

But you knew he spoke lies with that deep voice of his you loved so much. There was a sadness within him, a grief he wore like an armour. A melancholy he had never let you touch, never let you truly see. But in moments like this, it slipped. His control, his composure, his walls of ice cracked beneath the pressure of your love and you began seeing, if only a glimpse of the dark secrets he carried within the heart you now treasured as your own life. 

“Don’t lie to me, love. I can see it in your eyes. There's something you are not telling me.”

His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you thought he might tell you the truth—whatever it was that lingered in the dark corners of his soul. But instead, he sighed, his hand falling from your face as he stepped back, putting distance between you that felt far more significant than just the space in the room.

“I’m not lying. There are simply things that I cannot explain.”

You stared up at him, his words sounded harsher than before. Cold. Detached. And you hated it how he pulled you so close you were suffocating within his existence or he pushed you away as if you were nothing but a burden in his complicated life. 

And yet, you couldn’t deny the pain his words carried. A pain that cuts through you like a knife. You wanted to reach out, to hold him and listen to whatever burdened his soul but you knew Gwi. you had known him for years now. He was a complicated man. A man of secrets. A man who carried knowledge and conscience that seemed from forgotten times. And you felt that no matter how close you were, how tenderly he held you nor how fiercely he protected you; there would always be parts of him that he’d keep in the shadows of his mind. 

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He asked. He nearly pleaded. But his sentence only caused you to blink. 

“Like what?”

“Like I’m breaking your heart.”

His voice dropped, barely above a whisper and your heart clenched at the sight of him. Gwi's eyes, which once held you captive with their intensity, now seemed lost, distant, as though he stood on the edge of something he couldn’t face. His vulnerability, something he guarded so fiercely, cracked open for just a moment. A single second before his gaze hardened again. He took a deep breath and straightened up, running a hand through his dark locks. 

“I will not ask you to tell me something you don’t want. I have always respected you and I will always love you. Just know that I am here for you. If you ever feel you want to tell me something, love, I promise I’ll listen.”

Gwi smirked down at you. A smirk that was meant to tease you, to make you laugh as well. But you saw the devastation in his eyes at the simple action that tried to mask his burdening grief. 

“I know you will, petal.”

He leaned down toward you, his lips pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and you closed your eyes. Your hands itching to pull him closer, to allow him to feel the warmth of your love but he retreated too soon. As Gwi pulled away, the cold air of his absence wrapped around you like a shroud, and the gentle warmth of his kiss on your forehead faded too quickly. You opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of him retreating, the distance he created growing heavier with each step. You could feel it—the space between you becoming a chasm too vast to bridge, filled with the weight of the secrets he kept buried in his heart.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at his broad back as he turned to face the imposing cherry blossom tree, the soft candlelight illuminating the sharp angles of his face. He was lost in his own world again, the one he wouldn’t let you touch. And even though you understood that Gwi was a man of mystery, a man tied to a past he seemed to run away from, it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful.

You stepped forward, standing next to him as your hand slipped into his bigger one. The touch warm against his cool skin as you stared at the tree of the pink petals as well. 

“I don’t need to know everything. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care what you have done or what you think you deserve. What matters is who you are now. Who you are with me.”

He turned to look down at you, the strength in his eyes staring at you that it nearly took your breath away. His hands squeezed yours. Knowing you spoke from a heart that was no longer yours. But despite all the love that now poured over him like a waterfall, he knew nothing would ever be the same if you were to know he was a vampire. 

“I will always be your protector. Your lover. The Lord of your heart. Forevermore.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder as you took in his presence, his strength, his secrets and his treasures. His shadows and his stars. 

“That’s all I need.”

September/13/2024

A/N: Want to be tagged? Let me know in the comments!

Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

[theburialofstrawberries]

Just read a daniel meta so bad that I want to tear my eyeballs out