#vampire otome fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintgoths · 11 days ago

Text

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ

CHILD OF RED CHAPTER TWO - NURSE'S ROOM.

WORDS - 2,910.

RATING - 18+

previous chapter

SUMMARY - On her first day at University, Scarlett finds another Witch.

“Welcome to Mystery Spell University, today I will be your guide,” Drogo smiled as the two routed towards the building; with her eyebrows furrowed, Scarlett crossed her arms as she replied to him.

“You’ll be my guide for now,” Scarlett responded. “While you’re guiding me, I’ll be multi-tasking and searching for a better one,” she smiled and as Drogo placed his hand against his chest, Scarlett lightly breathed through her nose ere she scammed the atmosphere.

“You’re mean Scarlett,” he said. “Either way you’re stuck with me for now, so what’s on your timetable?”

Open to his inquire, Scarlett quickly pulled out her timetable from her bag. “I read it before I left my room today, first class I have is called Myths and Legends.”

With a twisted look on his face, Drogo lightly scratched the back of his head. “I’m in that class too, almost everyone in this Goddamn university takes this class.”

Surprised as she pushed the paper back in her bag, Scarlett smirked at the blonde boy’s statement. “You? In a class for Myths and Legends?”

“I find them interesting, and I also find the teacher to be interesting,” Drogo shrugged. “Most students take the course, specifically the women take it, because they find the teacher hot.”

Intrigued, Scarlett pulled the arm of her bag higher up her shoulder. “Oh, now I’m more eager to start the class,” Scarlett smiled, competently aware of the stare Drogo had given her. Though before the girl could speak about it, a strong scent had alerted her, the energy had been strong and had over-powered the rest of Scarlett’s senses which had commenced the girl to hastily scan the area, her alert behaviour taken in by Drogo who immediately attempted to follow her gaze.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and confused; Scarlett gently scratched the back of her head.

“Nothing. Let us move on,” she smiled and without second thoughts, the Bartholy boy guided Scarlett down the corridor, both of the students aware of the curious looks they had received from their peers.

Some students had actually been interested to speak to her, Scarlett had currently been the new toy of a child and Drogo had been the menacing and daring dog that had stood in front of it. Scarlett had paid no mind to it, as she comprehended there’ll be a plethora of moments when she’d be able to speak to other students, though, as that was rarely an important matter to her, Scarlet turned to look at the blonde-haired boy as an inquire slipped into her mind. “Where is your brother, Peter?” She asked and as he slipped his hands down to his pockets, Drogo gently bounced his shoulders.

“Probably wallowing somewhere,” Drogo answered.

“I wish to meet him,” Scarlett muttered as they cut through a corner to their route to their first class. “I’ve already suffered enough with your presence.”

“You live under the same roof as him,” Drogo chuckled. “You will meet him soon.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Scarlett underestimated how many students would want to engage in Myths and Legends, the class barely had empty rows which had commenced Scarlett to thank herself for wanting to enter the class early, Professor Sebastian, the teacher of the class had not made his appearance yet, which had made Scarlett contemplate his presence much further.

Drogo had still been beside Scarlett, though his friends that he had left outside the café this morning had sat on the row behind them, as he chatted away with his closest peers, Scarlett had her eyes trained on her phone-screen, her thumb gliding through endless social media until the indubitable same energy she had sensed outside of the building had stung her again.

Confused, Scarlett had sat up on her seat, her eyes examining the class room until her orbs fell onto the root of the circumstance, the aura had come from a student of the class, a beautiful girl who Scarlett was able to quickly identify as a Witch. Intrigued, Scarlett knitted down her eyebrows as she could feel the cold stare of Drogo watch her shortly audit the female Witch who had sat on the other side of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Drogo asked and briefly, Scarlett had pondered if the Bartholy boy knew the girl that had caught Scarlett’s attention was a Witch, and hastily, Scarlett pushed her phone back into her bag with a knowing look on her face.

“Are you always going to be in my business?” Scarlett inquired.

“I consider your business to be very interesting,” Drogo smiled and as Scarlet crossed her arms, she gently slumped on her chair.

“I don’t need a babysitter---”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he smiled.

“I think I found someone else who can stick with me for the beginning of the term,” Scarlett said and before Drogo could ask her who she had meant, Scarlett turned her sight towards the female Witch who had been surrounded by her close peers.

With a frown, Drogo briefly twisted his face. “Well, find another one.”

“Why?” Scarlett investigated curious to hear his reason.

Yet, Drogo had said nothing which had pulled Scarlett to cross her arms, unimpressed the Venura woman turned her attention towards the front of the class, aware that Drogo had not wanted the Witch girl to be her guide due to what she had been.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Professor Sebastian had been five minutes late to his class, yet, as much as Scarlett had wanted to be annoyed by his lateness, his eye-catching appearance had made up for his delay, he was handsome, and had some coldness and edge to him with his shoulder-length, wavy black hair and amber eyes which had been somewhat similar to Drogo---but Scarlett had reminded herself that Drogo’s amber eyes appeared to have some fire to it while Professor Jones’ amber orbs contained a distant coldness to them.

He was pale and had a stubble that appeared to be shaved down, he wore an appropriate attire for a professor, though his aphotic and handsome look had many students fawning over him. As Scarlett turned to look at Drogo, Scarlett couldn’t help but smirk in delight. “Oh, I dearly understand why many people take this class,” she giggled and with a slight nudge to his rib, Scarlett’s eyes twinkled in mischief. “Is his sexiness the reason why you picked this class?”

“Do not try and humour me,” Drogo said as he threw eye darts towards the girl who had gently shuffled on her seat, uncaring about his kickback, Scarlett returned her sight towards Professor Sebastian, gently aware of the Supernatural essence he had carried, and impressed, Scarlett raised both of her eyebrows.

Fascinated on how the town of Mystery Spell had been over-run by inhuman creatures had pondered if there had been a specific commodity that had attracted people here specifically, though Scarlett deemed that as a quest to conquer another day.

“Found attraction to the poor man?” Drogo speculated and barely moved; Scarlett clasped her fingers ere she relaxed her elbows against the wooden desks.

“And if I have found attraction to him---what’s it to you?” Scarlett asked and before Drogo could answer her, an annoyed cough echoed through the class, one that had spoken of demand which had quickly taken the attention of both Drogo and Scarlett who had easily whipped their sight to the root of the cough, and there stood an irritated Professor Sebastian.

“New student?” Professor Sebastian questioned and with a slow nod from Scarlett, Sebastian moved himself to sit on his desk. “Introduce yourself since you’re comfortable with talking so much,” and with a brief laughter that had echoed through the classroom by the students, Scarlett slowly rose to her feet.

She briefly played with the hem of her skirt, the eyes of everyone shadowing her movements had slightly caused the Venura girl to hastily fall into a pit of anxiety, though, Scarlett was adamant to not allow herself to be over-whelmed by the stares and continued to look down at Sebastian Jones, his face expressed with tease as he had anticipated to hear what she had to say.

“My name is Scarlett Venura, and I just moved from Virginia,” she stated and with an impressed push of his eyebrows, Sebastian crossed her arms.

“Virginia? A special place,” he expressed. “You may sit down now,” and without a second thought, Scarlett had returned to sit on her seat.

A flush on both her cheeks as she had felt Drogo turn to look at her. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Yet, before Scarlett could say anything, a nasally laughter had emerged from rows behind them, and in response, both Scarlett and Drogo turned to see where it had come from and at first Loan was whose Scarlett’s eyes had landed upon, and she was sure the laughter had not come from him but the girl who had sat next to him. She was beautiful, but there had been an essence of superiority that the girl had carried. A blonde girl with blue slanted eyes and Scarlett had been sure that there must’ve been other people who had been envious of her, Scarlett had thought if she wasn’t as pretty as she was now, she would’ve been.

“Who is that?” Scarlett asked and with a careless and brief examination of who Scarlett asked about, Drogo turned to look back at Professor Jones.

“That’s Samantha Gautier,” Drogo said and as Scarlett shadowed Drogo’s actions and returned her gaze to the front. “Loan’s girlfriend.”

Surprised, Scarlett raised the both of her eyebrows, and quick to acknowledged the hastily phased expression on Scarlett’s face, Drogo smirked. “Were you interested in him?” Drogo asked and with a light raspberry blew from her mouth, Scarlett rolled her eyes.

“He’s not necessarily my type,” Scarlett answered and amused, Drogo sat up on his chair.

“You’re not interested in boys?” Drogo inquired.

“I’m interested in both boys and girls,” Scarlett said.

“You’re much versatile than I expected,” Drogo joked.

“Are you usually this annoying?” Scarlett asked and with a swift wink, Drogo beckoned his head.

“Every day.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Sirens.

Scarlett had always been infatuated by them, and the fact that she had the opportunity to learn more about them in Professor Jones’ class had made her feel content, there had been many times Scarlett had pondered if she hadn’t been a Vampire-Witch Hybrid, she would’ve loved to be a Siren.

Though, Drogo, who had appeared uninterested with the lesson and had been focused with the conversations amongst his friends which had annoyed Scarlett. As she had wanted to learn, the voices of the men intertwining with a stifling buzz in her mind she had tried to annoy, thus, as an attempt to focus on Professor Jones’ voice, Scarlett had blinked a number of times while the buzz had warped into a string of pain, a pain that had heeded like a thousand stings of torture and drowsy, Scarlett had whined. Her groan alerting the blond-haired boy beside her.

“Scarlett?” Drogo called, his eyes filled with curiosity, and with a soft nudge, Drogo had turned away from his friends who had been curious to what had been happening in front of them. Though, Scarlett had not answered, stubborn to show any weakness but it had appeared that the Universe had worked against her today, as bright blood had trickled down her nose, the liquid that had commenced Drogo to fall into a stiff posture while his amber eyes were in alert and attempt to not flicker into his beast-like orbs.

‘Nothing is wrong,” Scarlett muttered.

“That doesn’t seem like nothing,” Drogo argued.

“It’s none of your business,” she cried out.

“As you continue to live under my roof and take care of my sister, problems like this have to be taken to account,” Drogo quickly pronounced and as Scarlett quickly wiped the blood with the back of her hand, she had weakly sat up on her seat, her eyes blinking with uncertainty.

“Please allow me to focus,” she said and with a distraught breathy laughter, Drogo pulled himself to sit up straight.

“Sirens will be the main course for this semester,” Professor Jones said, his light eyes had quickly flashed towards Scarlett’s direction, his keen sight aware of the unstable condition Scarlett had been in, but the moment he saw the student sharply breathe through his nose he had looked back at the board behind him; though, Scarlett who had tightly gripped her fist around her pain had stuck her eyes on the lined paper beneath her, over-whelmed by the amount of eyes she had felt stamp on her skin, wearily, Scarlett sharply breathed one last time.

Her hold shaky as her heavy breathing increased, stubborn, the girl had returned her view at Professor Jones, and the path to him appearing further than usual, eyebrows furrowed, Scarlett had noticed her hearing had seemed muffled, but she could slowly make up what had been said, and it had been her name.

“Scarlett.”

“Scarlett?”

“Scarlett!”

Frustrated, she hadn’t taken the name-calling to account, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d hear un-rooted voices call out for her, but the second Scarlett had looked down, she had noticed the growing pool of blood on her paper, the strong liquid falling from her nose and the icy touch of Drogo placed on her right shoulder, everything had seemed like it had been in slow-motion, but before Scarlett could turn to look at him, her sight had turned black and she had fell.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Embarrassed, Scarlett had slowly peeled her eyes open, mortified of the first impression she had made in class once all memories had begun to pull in, the second she could take the area she had currently been in, into detail, she had recognised that this had been a place she had never been in before, the light that had lit the room was bright, and the walls around her just the same. So, Scarlett had then considered that this must’ve been the nurse’s room.

As she had pulled herself up to sit up, she had become aware that Drogo had been in the room, on a seat that he had been sleeping on, crossed arms and head low with soft snores that had emitted from his mouth, but when Scarlett had begun to move more, Drogo had opened his eyes, careful and vigilant he had stretched his body, aware of the apologetic look Scarlett had carried.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered and with a smirk, Drogo briefly clicked his neck.

“You’ll be talk of the University longer than expected,” he said.

“This wasn’t what I planned,” Scarlett frowned and upset, she had pulled herself to her feet. Sharp, Drogo had done the same, quick as he picked up her bag and his, the boy had helped her get ready to leave the building.

“The University called Nicolae about the situation,” he informed and confused, Scarlett had furrowed her eyebrows.

She didn’t remember giving the place Nicolae as an emergency contact, perhaps it was something he did himself. “I’m taking you home,” Drogo said and with a low groan, Scarlett gripped the arms of her backpack with a dramatic curve of her eyes.

“Great, another reason why to get a headache,” she muttered.

“Do you normally get nosebleeds, especially tense episodes like that?” Drogo asked and with a hesitant look, Scarlett quickly tucked the bottom of her lip behind her teeth, as much as Scarlett had wanted to keep most of her cards close to her chest, she had pondered that it wouldn’t hurt telling Drogo a minor detail.

“Sometimes,” she shrugged and as the two had left the nurse’s room they were quickly encountered with one of the staff from the building before they could leave. The circumstance had been quick, and within less than five minutes the two had made it out of the area.

Briefly, it had been quiet between the two of them and with a quick glance, Scarlett had noticed Drogo appeared as if he wanted to say something. “I don’t remember reading anything bad about your health when your details were sent to the Manor.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Scarlett replied.

“And what if it happens in front of Lorie?” Drogo questioned, his eyes serious, all the pure mischief Scarlett had quickly known Drogo to have had left his expression, fast; and with a challenging look Scarlett folded her arms.

“Lorie can handle blood, can’t she?” Scarlett asked, her inquire stoned with a perceptive insight, and with a mirrored expression on his face, Drogo had then knitted down his brows, eyes remarked with eager, as if he had wanted to say something, but he couldn’t.

With a small smirk on her face, Scarlett had watched how the blonde boy had quickly turned his back towards her. “I’ll be driving,” he claimed as he returned to route his way to her car.

“I can still drive,” Scarlett argued.

“Not with your condition,” he clicked. “Who knows when you might have another cycle on your wheels,” he bit and with a roll of her eyes, Scarlett threw her keys towards him before walking over to the passenger seat. “Besides, we should stop arguing and pretend like we’ve been getting along, Nicolae is waiting for us,” Drogo stated. “And per usual, he wants us on our best behaviour.”

story masterlistmasterlist

#is it love drogo #drogo bartholy #mystery spell #otome #is it love otome #is it love drogo otome #vampire fic #vampire fanfiction #witch fanfiction

4 notes · View notes

yarnnerdally · 1 year ago

Text

Original here

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x Iris (OC)

Rating: T

Tags: Fluff, smidge of hurt/comfort, they both hurt emotionally okay lol, soulmate au, soulmate-identifying marks

Words: 1.3k

“I heard that if your soulmate dies, it goes black.”

“What? I’ve never heard that!”

Iris sighed as she tried to block out the noise of her tour group. They were at the Louvre and this was her third tour of the day. Thankfully the last, as well. When she was just 15, she’d learned to wear gloves on her hands. Granted, many people did. They felt their soulmate’s emotions were something private, just for them, and she didn’t blame them. And then there were people like her. People who’s soulmates had already died and they were left living. It had been a tragedy when her mark first appeared on the back of her hand at 15. To be a teenager and discover your soulmate was already lost to you? After a month she couldn’t stand the looks of pity she got from strangers. Yes, it was sad that she would never meet her soulmate. She understood that it was a tragedy, but that didn’t mean she’d never find love. Plenty of people still fell in love every day with people that weren’t their soulmates.

“I can’t imagine it, going through life with just a black blob on the back of my hand. At least I can see that my soulmate is calm right now. It goes light blue for me when they’re calm.”

Different people had different experiences. So maybe… just maybe the black spot on the back of her hand didn’t mean death. It was entire improbable but not impossible. The tour finally ended and it left Iris with some time to wander the museum herself. She paused in front of Café Terrace at Night by van Gogh and smiled up at it. It was one of her favorites, next to her name sake anyways. It was on loan along with many other paintings done by van Gogh and his story pulled at her heart. It was rumored that both he and his brother didn’t even have soulmate marks on their hands. Iris made a small noise of surprise as someone bumped into her and she turned around to see who it was.

“Pardon me, mademoiselle. Forgive me. I was quite caught up in Vincent’s new exhibition here,” the man smiled serenely. His looks were nothing like Iris had ever seen. Handsome, distinguished, an air of tranquility and intensity simultaneously surrounded him. He seemed from a different time, of gentlemen and high society. He spoke fluent French but there was a definite Germanic undertone to his words. His cravat was expertly tied with a gorgeous gold pin in it.

“No, no. It’s more than alright, sir. The same could be said for me. I’m named after a van Gogh,” she said with a smile to convey she truly meant it. She looked down the hall and pointed. “Just a few down, actually.” The man smiled and tilted his head to the side, taking in her features. “My parents were obsessed with irises.” The gentleman hummed softly, looking back to the painting in front of them.

“Iris is a good name. Faith. Hope. Wisdom. Courage. A good flower to be named for,” the man added. He pulled a pocket watch from his coat and frowned. “Alas, cherie, I must depart. It was lovely to have met you,” he smiled, inclining his head slightly in a bow before turning to leave. Iris watched him leave curiously, watching him leave through a door she didn’t realize had been at the end of the hall. Blinking, she looked down as she saw something glint in the fluorescent light and noticed that the gentleman’s cravat pin had fallen.

“Oh! Monseuir!” Iris shouted after him but he was beyond the door. She picked up the pin and jogged over to the door, opening it and stepping inside. She tilted her head curiously as she spied all the artifacts in the dimly lit hall. “Monseuir?” she called again before stepping further in. Suddenly the room began to swirl around her and she shouted, closing her eyes tightly. “What the hell?!” Iris groaned a little as she fell forward, strong arms catching her instead of a hard surface.

“Godverdomme,” A gruff voice greeted her and Iris looked up in surprise. Piercing blue eyes met her hazel ones and it took a moment before those arms let go of her. “Watch where you’re going, hondje.” Iris sputtered and looked indignant for a moment before realizing she had no idea where she was. This definitely was not the Louvre. She looked around him for a moment, and then behind her, and then at the door. “Wait, you-? You came through the door?” The man asked, seemingly distracted by his hand glowing a bright white.

“What happened? Why won’t this open?” Iris did her best to not shout as she attempted to open the door she came through. She stopped and felt her breathing rate increase as anxiety built up in her chest. Theo looked between his hand and the woman that had just come through the door twice before shaking his head.

“It’s not going to open for a while. Here,” he guided Iris away from the door and tried to get her to look at him. “I understand this is frightening. However, nothing will come from panicking, ja?” Iris nodded, her gloved hands holding onto the man’s forearms. She felt herself calming in his presence and finally took a deep, if slightly shaky breath. “I’m Theo,” he introduced himself, giving her a small, sympathetic smile. The space on the back of his hand was slowly transitioning into a light blue. His heart began to beat harder in his chest at that and tried not to focus too much on it. It was probably coincidence. Right? It wasn’t like his mark had been black until she literally came crashing down on him. Definitely a coincidence.

“I’m Iris. It’s nice to meet you Theo,” she replied with a small smile, noticing she’d still been holding onto him and let go as she was suddenly embarrassed. Theo’s hand turned a lovely shade of pinkish red and he swallowed hard. “I-I’m sorry,” she said, realizing she had been staring. “I’ve just never seen a mark change so quickly before,” she laughed a little, subconsciously looking down to her gloved hand. She froze for a moment and blinked as she swore she saw… no. There was no way. Theo noticed the look in Iris’ eyes and how she watched her own hand. Feeling emboldened, he took his hand in hers and slowly removed her glove, both their hearts pounding. Iris took in a sharp breath as she saw color for the first time on her hand and it shifted from a pale yellow to an intense, crimson red. She looked up and hazel eyes met blue again. Theo swallowed hard before licking his lips. “This has to be a dream. Y-you’re-“ Acting on instinct, he brought Iris close and hugged her tightly.

“I thought you had died by the time my mark came,” he admitted quietly, doing his best to hold back his instincts to feed immediately as endorphins rushed through his system. Iris felt herself melting as Theo held her in his arms and she couldn’t keep from burying her head into his chest. “Was yours black, too?” Iris nodded, clinging onto Theo’s back. Both of their marks now shone a bright orange, contentment filling their hearts.

“God, look at us. I fell through a door and I don’t even know how to get back to my hotel,” Iris laughed, pulling away with a slight flush to her cheeks. “And when did it get this dark? My last tour was only done at four,” she said, checking her cell phone. 4:34. Theo straightened up and blinked, trying his best not to grimace.

“That. Um. Well, I think we’ll need to sit for that conversation.”

Taglist: @jozhenji

#ikemen vampire theodorus #theo van gogh #fluff #soulmate au #OC #ally posts fics #otome fanfic

39 notes · View notes

syneilesis · 2 years ago

Note

For your writer asks - perspective flip? It can be the Comte fic or any other you'd like 🥰

I AM NOW HERE! 🐱 March was, uh, eventful, but I am making good use of my break teehee.

This got longer than I expected. 1,350 words of nothing but a hungry and thirsty Comte 😂 Hope you enjoy!

The first time it happens it’s as if he’s unearthed a centuries-buried treasure, kept protected by a sturdy wooden chest, its novelty preserved for his discovering eyes. The thrill of unlocking something of great worth electrifies all the nerves of his body, heats his blood.

Le Comte smiles. It feels a little different this time.

“Well done, ma chérie.”

He notices the small hitch of your breath, the tremor that jolts your spine. He imagines dragging his finger from the back of your neck down to the small of your back. Imagines you shudder from the ghost-light touch, your head tilting upward slightly, eyes shut, lips parted.

Le Comte knows that you’ve caught on to the chemical shift between you and him. It delights him, the way you suppress your reactions (lovely, adorable), stubbornly clinging to the boundaries delineated by his status and your respect. He doesn’t mind the resistance – welcomes it, in fact. The more you resist, the more tempting you become.

Desire and restraint, after all, intertwine in the most interesting ways.

Mid-spring, a viscount invites le Comte to a concert that Mozart has mentioned in passing: a violin soloist playing a selection of Saint-Saëns pieces. He accepts and extends the invitation to you – an invitation that brightens your face with excitement.

It’s a beautiful performance. By the end of the show the hall reverberates with a thunderous applause, the standing ovation lengthening into minutes, the musicians on the stage aglow with praise. Le Comte glances to his side, where you stand enraptured by the concert, eyes sparkling, neck flushed from the riveting music, your rose lips open in a smile.

Then his attention falls on your dress. It had taken five hours for le Comte to settle on what you’d wear for the concert, guiding you with his arm (not with his hands, not yet) to different boutiques, trying on various dresses of various designs. He had decided on a gold halter that matches the color of his hair and eyes, a style that provocatively displays your back.

(A quick look at your expression revealed uncertainty – or was it discomfort? Or something else?

Is it too much? he asked, taking one step closer to you. From that distance le Comte could feel the heat emanating from your body.

Perhaps it was discomfort, because you’re fidgeting under his thoughtful assessment, adamantly avoiding his appraising eyes. It’s not that …

Another step. There was a sharp intake of breath, and le Comte understood.

He gave you a reassuring smile. Made it a point not to mention how it was clear in your flustered face that you’d been picturing him with his hand on your exposed skin.

Made it a point not to mention how he’d been picturing himself tracing your spine with his fingers, followed by his mouth.)

You must’ve felt his stare; your eyes dart to him and you falter from your place, red blooming on your cheeks like cascading ink. It spreads to your chest and your back. You hasten your gaze away, biting your lip, and le Comte finds himself focusing on that little nip.

Later, the viscount corners him for an enthusiastic talk. Le Comte goes along, amicable smile fixed on his face. His concentration derails after the third minute, after which he spots you on the other side of the room, an unrecognizable man at your tail, chatting you up despite your uninterested countenance.

“Pardon me, Viscount,” le Comte suddenly says, cutting off the middle-aged man whose teeth clack upon shutting up, “but I must attend to something important right now.”

“Oh, of course, le Comte. Shall we continue our conversation next time?”

“Indeed. Excuse me.”

By the time he reaches you, you’ve already driven the man away. “It seems that you have no need of my assistance, ma chérie,” he says, noting the man’s features for future deliberation. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you for the concern, Comte.”

“Do you need to rest? Let’s head over to the balcony.”

Outside, Paris glimmers under the star-freckled sky, lamplights like little embers that flicker in the distance. Le Comte opens the door for you and a cool breeze welcomes you at once, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Cold?” he asks, and shrugs off his coat.

“Oh, I’m –”

You don’t finish, because le Comte turns to drape the coat over your shoulders. The movement requires him to loom over you, bodies almost touching. The tips of his shoes make contact with your pumps. He leans over, your hair just below his nose, and le Comte smells the fragrant scent of your perfume. Underneath: the ambrosial sweetness of your blood (careful, careful).

His coat is too big for your frame, like it’s swallowing you whole. He adjusts how it hangs on your body, then pats at the lapels once he’s satisfied.

His hands stay there.

Le Comte whispers your name. His voice carries a husky quality to it, brought upon by proximity and bloodsong. But you refuse to respond, your expression tucked away and instead he’s looking at the crown of your head.

Further down: your rubescent neck.

Ah.

He injects a pleading tone to his next words: “Look at me. Please?”

It’s the please that pulls your face up, eyes slightly wide like you can’t believe what you’re hearing. But then you become aware that le Comte’s own face is mere centimeters from yours. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth parting to utter something –

But then you jerk away. Or attempt to – le Comte’s hands are still on the coat and he’s gripping it this time to foil your escape.

He tilts his chin down, and your staccato breaths puff against his face. He waits until your eyes meet his, then murmurs, “I’m not letting you run away this time.”

Silence. Moonlight pools on the marble balustrade, gleaming ghostly silver. Below the balcony the rasp of leaves; inside the building, the chatter of noblemen, filtered by the double doors. Your breathing staggers, until it shutters into nothing.

A few seconds teeter, and le Comte begins to worry. “Ma chérie?”

A loud exhale, gravel against gravel. You shake your head minutely. “Sorry, it’s just –”

“I know. Do you hate it?”

A tilt of the head, a bite of the lip. An anticipatory moment lurks and then passes.

“No …”

Le Comte draws closer. “Then…?”

A swallow. A shuddering breath.

“... I like it.”

Le Comte smiles. Got you.

“That’s a good girl.”

He tucks a stray lock behind your ear. Your skin burns. He inches closer and closer, until his lips and yours are a hair’s breadth from each other. He steals a glance and finds your eyes half-mast, trained on him.

“Shall I reward you tonight?”

You open your mouth but then you hesitate, and le Comte realizes that any further movement will bring both your lips together. Isn’t this what you and he want? All the hungry gazes, the fleeting ones, the thirst that thrums in his veins, the pulsing desire threatening to burst free from its shackles – all of these converging into this precise, charged moment. There’s electric crackle in his nerves, it heats his blood.

But le Comte remains frozen in his position, watching – waiting – what you’ll do next.

By now your scent has sunken its dulcet claws in his flesh, an unbreakable chain, and le Comte feels his eyelids lower, the press of his canines teasing the inside of his lower lip, a warning, a sign.

And then: “Yes.”

Finally. Le Comte shuts his eyes tight, leaning back. He drops his hands, releases you. Steps backward; his throat carved with unrelenting thirst.

Then he opens his eyes to trap you under his heavy gaze that robs you of your breath. He smirks, raising his right hand in offering. “Shall we go back, then, darling?”

You stare at the proffered hand, then at his face. Your blush has never left. He can hear your pounding heart, a galloping pace that augments your pinched eyebrows, your quivering lips.

Something shifts in your expression. And then: slowly, slowly –

You take his hand.

#dear-mrs-otome #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp comte #ikevamp fic #my fic #fic #syn chats

49 notes · View notes

cardsofthemoon · 1 year ago

Text

I love writing vampires so much like you can literally put them in any time of history, hell you can even rewrite history and make shit up, under the sole guise that it’s an immortal vampire. you can literally make your vampire be the actual mona lisa or be the first female president of the united states, and it will be acceptable because they’re immortal!

#like I’m at the point where the otome romance stage of dl has died out for me and now I’m just focusing on the demon vampire lore #I’m kinda outlining a fic but not really it’s more of an outline of timeline and events but I love it so much #diabolik lovers #diahell #vampires #diabolik lovers oc

17 notes · View notes

aide-falls · 1 year ago

Text

So is anyone taking any Fic requests that writes for any of these? I know a lot of the main people that write for them either aren’t taking requests at the moment or don’t write for these characters; thanks!

Jude Jazza (Ikevil)

Guy Avari (COD)

Johann Faust (ikevamp)

Chev (ikepri)

Gilbert (ikepri)

Rio (ikepri)

Clavis (ikepri)

Sariel (Ikepri)

#guy avari #court of darkness guy #ikemen villains #ikemen vampire #ikemen prince #ikepri sariel #ikepri gilbert #ikepri rio #ikepri clavis #ikepri chevalier #ikevil jude #ikevam faust #fanfiction #english otome #fic request #cybird games #voltage inc #ikemen series

25 notes · View notes

yarnnerdally · 2 years ago

Note

AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHH this was so cute i just wanna

I just wanna

I want to consume this media and ingest it and be one with it.

Sorry for making so many requests but if I can just have one more so I have one from each section that would be great. Can I please have Arthur and the prompt of tucking a strand of hair behind their ear please. No pressure if you don't want to do 3 prompts asked from me.

Morning Coffee - Arthur Conan Doyle x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: Part of my 500 Follower Celebration (yes, I found I still had a few of these left so I'll be finishing them up soon)

Pairing: Arthur Conan Doyle x Reader

Prompt: tucking a strand of hair behind your ear

Tags: fluff

"Hey luv, that smells delicious." Arthur dangled a coffee mug from his pinky finger before you. "Think you have enough for one more cup?"

"For you? Of course." Sebastian had taught you well about Arthur's addiction to the caffeinated beverage and to always have coffee prepared for him. You had noticed Arthur had been spending more time in his room and less time in the dining room during meals, which meant only one thing - he was on a writing spree, and thus required extra coffee. Hence the large pot of coffee you brewed for breakfast.

With a bright and genuine smile, you took the mug from his hands, and poured him a generous cup, the rich, warm aroma filling your lungs.

“Tell me about the story you’re working on,” you asked as you handed him the mug.

Arthur leaned against the counter lazily as he told you about his most recent tale involving a mystery surrounding some missing children from the local orphanage.

“And what happens next?” you asked animatedly, hanging on to his each and every word.

Arthur pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Well, that’s for you to read when I finish this story.” He laughed when you immediately frowned. “I’ll let you be the first to read it?”

“Deal,” you said with a smile, warmth filling your chest at the thought of having such an honor.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “It isn’t often that someone around here is so interested to hear about what I’m writing.” You felt a momentary pang of sadness, realizing how rare it must be for Arthur to share about his ongoing works. But that feeling was quickly wiped away when he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was gentle and unexpected. But not unwanted. You felt your cheeks flush as you savored his soft touch.

“Well, I better get back to work,” Arthur said, spinning on his heel. Was that a hint of reluctance you heard in his voice?

Hiding your disappointment as he left, you couldn't help but notice Arthur walked away with a spring in his step.

And he hadn't even taken a sip of his coffee yet.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @atelieredux @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @crypticbibliophile @yarnnerdally @tele86 @nightfoxqueen

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #arthur conan doyle #ikevamp arthur #ikemen arthur #ikemen fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #otome #500 follower celebration #otome games #otome fanfic #ally reblogs fics #arthot

103 notes · View notes

kissoulie · 2 months ago

Text

〔 sanguine 〕

a world in which haku shota has known you longer than you have known yourself.

read the teaser here.

pairing: vampire!shota x human!reader

wc: around 6k

genre: soulmates, forbidden romance, angst, SMUT, MDNI

warnings: murder, dubcon, blindfolding, there is a lot of angst, very slight breeding/crying, perpetuation of suicidal thoughts. if you are not in the headspace to read this, please don't. also pls forgive any small spelling/grammar mistakes!! the spelling might be regional the grammar is not LOL

a/n: day 4 of piwontober is here!!!!! this fic is honestly my baby 😭 i birthed this thing over the course of almost 20 days. the specific soulmate rules this steals from are from the otome game bewitching sinners. there is some other influence in this work, some you will most definitely recognize. special thank you to @strawberry-seob for beta reading this for me extremely last minute, you're a champ, my midnight brain thanks you for dealing with all my little mistakes. 🤍

in loving memory of juyogf/348kg.

(they didn't die they just got sussed </3)

Above all to protect you.

Although you don't know it, you are being watched. The night air is crisp, a subtle breeze ruffling your hair, while smoke billows from your mouth and nose. “One of life's finest coping mechanisms,” you sigh, your blond companion nodding in agreement.

And my favorite modern amenity, Shota chuckles, arm moving to wrap around your shoulders, “Right behind Tiktok doomscrolling.”

Warmth fills you, despite the air suddenly chilling, “Thank you for walking me home, Sho.”

Shota courted you—as he called it—his infatuation steady, exhilarating, even comforting at times. You couldn't deny he seemed… almost obsessed with you. He knew everything about you without much effort on his part.

“Any time, darling. I like knowing you're home safe.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, swiping your vape from you, “Plus, it means I get an extra half hour with the love of my life.”

If only, Shota blinks quickly, eyes narrowing at the figure just out of your view. “It's still really sweet of you, Sho. I love you.”

The weight of those words in his mind have him smiling without realizing it. Despite his touch being just slightly too rough, you're as relaxed as ever, his hands feeling familiar in ways your mind can't put its finger on. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches your follower staring him down. Right. He's been on this mission for far too long. Shota inhales deeply, “I love you too.”

Falling in love with Shota is like second nature to both of you. Over all spans of time, you fall for him harder and harder. He holds your hands in his with a tenderness familiar to you, yet new every time. His eyes are so earnest. They hold your gaze like a blanket, always observant, always full of a sadness you can't quite place. Shota resents that he's the only one who has to carry this knowledge.

“You haven't eaten in a while.” You stroke his hair. Your hands spread warmth like fire everywhere they touch. He tries his best to remain present, in the moment, but his mind strays.

“It's okay.” His eyes are so far away.

You reach out to him, your fingers entwining with his. And though you don't know why, a feeling of complete hopelessness washes over you when his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. You pick your brain for the right words to say, worried that blunt language will cause him to pull away.

“At least- have a little, it’ll clear your mind?”

He shakes his head, “I love you. I’ll be fine.”

“I love you too, Sho.”

Sometimes it isn't about the words, but about hearing them back.

Shota nuzzles his face into your neck. He inhales deeply. Your blood always smells so sweet to him. The way you relax into his touch breaks his heart. Hands find their way up your spine, across your waist, squeezing your flesh in short bursts.

“Take whatever you need from me.” You don't understand his hesitation. He's always precise with his feeding, never letting himself get past the point of a little hungry. You trust him, he trusts you. Or at the very least, you think he does.

“Are you sure?” Shota’s fangs hover above your jugular, your eyes shining in the dim lights of his apartment. This isn't the first time you have been here, and despite what he knows is about to happen, he's sure it won't be the last.

“I’m sure, I promise, please take what you need from me.” Your voice is almost needy. His nails dig into your sides, eyes squeezing shut. If only he could forget everything else but this moment. If only he could turn back the clock, and be your lifelong lover, instead of being the reason your life isn't long to begin with.

“I will, precious. I love you.”

There's an unfamiliar sting when his fangs dig into you. His eyes flutter closed, holding you to him like you might disappear. He swallows, thick with your life in his mouth.

Shota is thankful that the vampiric part of his brain turns off any part of him that views you as more than just prey. He is your hunter. Your executor. Your lifelong nemesis. He feels you begin to weakly thrash in his arms, a mere whisper of his name snapping him out of his stupor. I’m sorry, he swallows you whole.

I’m sorry.

Your body goes limp. Slowly, you become just like him: A corpse.

Love became greed and erased itself.

Shota’s eyes are closed, fist wrapped tightly around his length. In his mind's eye is your face. He hasn't had the privilege of seeing you when you cum, and that's what he imagines every time he gets off. He thinks of your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, his name nothing more than a quiet cry, your body milking him for all he's worth.

He thinks of you in his apartment, begging him to take what he needs from you. Your eyes that shone so brightly whenever you saw him. But alas, he is home, and not in that dingy little apartment he keeps for you.

His high approaches quickly, wrist cramping with exertion, if only he knew how you would feel. If only he had you once, so he could keep the memory for all time.

“Shota, his majesty needs you!” Three sharp raps on his door signal Jongseob’s arrival.

“I’ll be there in a second!” he nearly growls, tossing the covers off and putting on some slacks. His hands flatten his hair, eyes flicking to his mirror to make sure he looks presentable. He adjusts his belt, hoping he doesn’t look freshly blue-balled, “Did he say what he wants?”

Jongseob’s face as the door swings open is all Shota needs to see. His face falls into a grimace.

“You know, you'd think after all this time whatever being does this would have mercy on her.” Jongseob has always had more empathy than his Majesty, despite being his younger brother. “I mean, being lured to slaughter in every life must take i-”

“Quiet,” Shota grumbles, pushing past his brother and swinging open the doors to the throne room. His capelet hugs his shoulders when he bows, “Your Majesty.”

“My most beloved brother, it's good to see you.” Theo sits with perfect posture, crown perched atop his auburn hair. He peers down at Shota with an air of entitlement; As if he's just a vessel, and not a faithful family member.

“Likewise, your majesty. The prince-” Theo cuts him off with a wave of his hand. His eyes are piercing in ways Shota will never understand, his power undeniable while in his presence.

“I’m sure you know what I need, Shota. Take care of it.”

“Can't we just-”, Shota clears his throat, stepping forward tentatively, “Turn her? I mean, it's been so many years, I just-”

Theo stares intently at his younger brother. His eyes are full of authority, of a disturbing finality.

“Don't be silly, brother. You will perform your duty.”

Where did that terrible curse come from?

Shota finds you with ease thanks to the bond he shares with Theo. That, and he’s been chasing your scent for so long he could recognize you anywhere. Tonight, he's trespassing at a concert he doesn't have a ticket for. He's thankful for his vampirism in this atmosphere: it makes you so easy to spot at the barricade. He snakes through the crowd, his eyes honed in on you; a true hunter stalking his prey. The opening dialogue he’s prepared for you two to have about the boy group on stage is fresh in his mind—but you turn to him, your eyes staring at him with an emotion he hasn't seen before; a rarity, for him. He opens his mouth.

Then you’re gone.

There was something on that boy's face. A certain millennium old sorrow that you shouldn't be able to recognize. It’s etched into your mind, that beautiful face of his. You remember the silliest things, like his teeth, that he's your age, his roots were grown out. Clearly, you’re just lonely. But maybe—and only maybe—there’s something about him. An old soul, perhaps. Your thoughts are infested with him. So much so, that it’s a miracle you look up from your phone long enough to spot him on your train. Was this your fated love?

Has the universe finally shown mercy on your poor, lonely self?

You cast many nervous glances at the boy, who seems disgruntled. He’s bundled up in many layers to compensate for the incoming nor’easter, the visible part of his cheeks stained pink. It’s time to be brave.

Who inflicted this cruel punishment?

Shota sits bundled up on the subway. He's all too familiar with the route you take, electing to disguise himself so perhaps… you won't walk away from him again. Ever since your last encounter, the heart he never knew he had has been hurting him. He lies awake at night, unable to rest, thinking of the look on your face when you saw him. After much pondering, he realized he knew that expression: fear. It’s been so long since you feared him.

“Can I sit here?”

He's scared it's all a dream. Your smiling face, encased by a halo of fluorescent train lights. A lesser man wouldn't think of you as an angel.

“Ah, yes, of course-” He fumbles to scoot over just a tad, so you don't have to press yourself into him to sit with him.

“You're really pretty.” Your face lights up into the smile he's missed so dearly. Even though you come back changed in every life, your smile is always the same to him. “Sorry! That’s probably weird to hear, I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

“Thank you, um, your smile-” The flush that tints his cheeks is foreign to him. Shota feels almost… excited. What’s happening is a gift from the gods. Your puppylike tendencies bleed through the walls he’s built since he last held you. When he gets off the subway, he finds himself walking with newfound purpose. Your number is scrawled onto his palm.

The fate that I devoted my life to; How could I forget?

Empty. Is there anything in Haku Shota’s life that is fully under his control? Is there even one instance where he isn't at the beck and call of another?

It makes him mean, to be so out of his own control. To wake up every day, and only be awake to the detriment of someone else. It’s slowly rotting away at his soul.

Not that there's much left of his soul, anyway.

And maybe Jongseob was the boy who saved his life, as well as the boy he still protected with his life. But Shota finds no enjoyment in this groundhog day he's found himself in. He curls in on himself, his mind racing. Everything is so loud.

Many days, he hopes he will finally be put out of his misery. His heart is twisting, turning, writhing, a mass of muscle and taut tissue, his lungs contracting and constricting, airways tight, so small he feels like he can’t even swallow his saliva, which is so thick and heavy in his mouth — if he could just breathe.

He grits his teeth, thoughts moving so fast he doesn't remember what he’s supposed to be—just that he is. His eyes are closed, shutting out another sense to keep up with, his whole body pulled tight with emotion like a marionette at the whims of his own consciousness.

Twitching. He can feel his body twitching every few seconds, uncontrollable and minute. He is in his head. With every thought that races through, one keeps looping as if desperate to be heard and to be seen: I don’t belong, I’m not happy.

A terrible oversimplification of his current plight, the thought manages to ease the onslaught of activity, condensing his thoughts down to his emotions. Does he feel anything? Has the numbness faded, causing him to stumble?

Trials and tribulations are commonplace for any person of his age, though certain anomalies of the mind can alter even the most simplistic emotion into a monster of its own merit.

Perhaps, this life isn’t meant for him.

It has made him happy. He has been good, and loved. He is good and loved.

But it isn’t for him. He can’t feel anything at all. Most of the time, he’s apathetic, with exception to sharp bursts of emotions. This isn’t a life he wants to live.

(He wants to live for you.)

Doomed. That is how he feels. The perfect descriptor for someone as cynical and apathetic as him.

The feeling leaves his mouth bitter, a smile displaying his outermost wants. It’s alarmingly easy to fake it. His own happiness is nothing but a facade. To him or to everyone?

Much of the time, being left to his own thoughts and opinions is what coerces his most vulnerable emotions out. It discomforts him, feeling the things he tries so hard to hide bubble up to the surface in undeniable agony. His heart, once hidden, emerges from its cocoon to try and blossom again.

If only.

But life is much more complex than these feelings of inadequacy. Even if he doesn't believe it.

“Pull yourself together, Shota.” Jongseob’s voice echoes in his empty apartment. He didn’t know who else to call.

“I wish I could feel normal again,” Shota whispers into the phone. He feels white hot shame course through him, and he regrets saying anything at all.

“If you felt normal, we wouldn't still be friends.” He laughs. Shota wonders how his friend could feel so light.

“Maybe we would be, but I’d be dead.” Dead might be better than this.

A forlorn silence falls over his room after he hangs up on his best friend. He closes his eyes, all of his memories a watercolor sketch of emotions. He has to end things between you two.

Your blood is still warm when he wipes it off his chin with a handkerchief. He knows Keeho will be there at any moment to clean everything up for him, and then Theo will want to celebrate. The cold air bites at Shota’s cheeks. It's like the universe is punishing him for his act of unkindness. He stuffs his hands in his coat pockets. When did I put on a coat?

There's one orange street lamp on his block. Did I ever notice how her smile was like the sun?

A car speeds by him dangerously close, the occupants seeming to watch him. Do I love her?

His phone lights up, a cheerful ringtone startling him. They don't have to know where I’m staying tonight.

The aftermath is always the worst part.

“Sorry, my roommate has a strict no boys policy.” You laugh, praying he buys the excuse. Really, it's not that Intak won't let you spend alone time with boys; it's that he won't let you spend alone time with this boy. Something about a bad vibe.

“I miss you,” he coughs, “When we aren't together, I miss you.”

Your stomach does a little summersault. A pretty boy misses you when you aren't with him.

“I’ll.. talk to him, maybe he'll relent because we're just friends-”

“I want to be more. Than just friends, with you.” Shota gauges your reaction for 30 long and agonizing seconds. He watches the cogs turn in your brain, realization setting in. Then, there's that beautiful smile of yours. If only he could feel this warm all the time.

“Oh thank god, I thought I was just delusional!” Your fingers entwine with his, and a flash of something akin to recognition passes across your face.

Convincing Intak to let Shota over was an ordeal you were sufficiently blindsided by. Perhaps there was more to the story of why he doesn't want you with him, but if he won't tell you… it's no longer your concern.

That's what you tell yourself when you sneak the boy into your room, anyways. You feel completely safe with him. Completely at ease. So much so, that when he lays you back on your bed, dick heavy between your thighs; you relax and let him have his way with you.

“Have you ever done this before?” His voice is soft. His hands caress your body with reverence.

You shake your head. You feel his fingers slowly drag up your thigh, his body pushing your legs apart with his descent between your thighs.

“Gonna prep you, it'll feel good.” He presses a quick kiss to your clit over your panties. He takes his sweet time ridding you of them, sucking and licking at your clit. A sharp pain has your eyes snapping open.

“Sho, hurts.”

He soothes it with a kiss, murmuring ‘good girl’ into your cunt. He looks at you from beneath his lashes for approval.

“Shota, your eyes-” You gasp out, hands tugging impatiently on his hair. His tongue pokes slightly out of his mouth, chin covered in slick.

“Don't worry about it, baby,” he mumbles into your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses right back to where you needed him most.

“No- Sho-” You try to push him away, but his hands grab yours, “Quiet.”

He hums into your clit, pressing his fingers in to curl right up into that spot you love so much.

“Sho, stop-” The pitch of your voice is electric. The stuff of dreams, for him.

“No. You will cum for me.” His ministrations get more aggressive, more motivated. He sucks on your clit far too painfully for your liking, but it only gets you closer.

“Sho- Shota, fuck-” His eyes lock onto yours as you cum all over his face, before your head lolls back, lungs gasping for air.

He holds you close to him after, pressing gentle kisses all over your exposed chest and neck. He mumbles something you don't quite catch between the blood rush in your ears. All you can think about is how safe you feel with him. And maybe, there's a little voice in the back of your head that says you love him.

“Don't do that to me again,” you whine, clinging to him in the afterglow of your orgasm, “You really scared me for a sec.”

“Sorry, precious. I get a little mean when I’m desperate.” His voice is a pitch lower than usual, and it sends heat back between your thighs. He's still hard against you.

“Don't bite your lip at me like that,” he groans, manhandling you into his lap, “You're the one who said to stop, baby.”

His eyes are heady, dilated with lust. It's a gaze that has you stricken. The only reply you can muster comes out as a soft whine, “Just- make love to me, Sho.”

Fate is in my hands again.

You try to brush off the undeniable red you saw in your lover’s eyes a mere 3 weeks ago. He sneaks into your shared apartment far too many times, just to kiss on you and love on you. It's almost as if the sorrowful boy you met in the park all those months ago has been replaced by someone… happier.

The months fly by between the two of you, and even Intak seems to warm up to the idea of Shota sticking around. (Yes, there were many long nights of bickering when he found out you were sneaking him in.)

“Shota, I’m not so sure.” Black silk is cool against your eyelids—one of your boyfriend's many ideas to spice up your private time.

“It'll be okay, baby. Trust me.” He kisses your lips, then your cheeks, then your nose. You feel the bed dip with his weight, his eternally cold body pressing against your own.

“I trust you,” you breathe out, his lips ghosting against your own. You feel a sharp prick by your collarbone, followed by his tongue. “Soul?”

That blessed nickname you've given him. Your heart and Soul.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here.”

There's emphasis on dialogue in your sex life. At Shota’s insistence, of course. He loves listening to you whine and cry for him.

You're confused. Left completely in the dark, until you feel his dick dragging through your sticky folds. Without prep? Is the only question in your head, feeling the throb of him. You need him so badly.

“Sho-” you gasp out.

“I’ve got you.”

Right. He's got you. Always.

His hand wraps around your neck, applying light pressure just to test. Just to see where your limits are.

“N-No, Sho-” You weakly grab at him, not fussing, but still trying to pull him off of you. He feels your wrist go slack when he angles his hips up at just the right spot.

“You go so dumb for me so easily, precious.” Shota whimpers. His mouth falls open, eyes going hazy with pleasure, “Christ, I’m gonna cum.”

“Inside, please.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him ever deeper. You feel so good he can hardly breathe, squeezing around him like a vice. He's embarrassed by how quickly he always cums with you, but you never seem to mind. Afterwards you're always smug, teasing, almost mean.

“Okay, baby, anything for you.” He breathes out, thumbing at your clit. He tries to pick up the pace, but the grip you have on him is too tight, so he settles for grinding into your precious cunt.

“I love you, Shota, I love you.” You cry, kicking and shaking with pleasure, your whole body convulsing. He moans your name in a tone that's downright debaucherous. He's nestled so deep inside you, hand pushing your leg up further. He feels himself hit a wall within you, and you let out a sob. “Sorry, sorry, fuck.”

I grew up in an eternity that will soon belong to you.

The ways in which Shota loves you are carnal. All this time, he's viewed the countless years upon years you've spent together as something out of his control. When really, he has all the control. All the power. Shota decides that in this life, the only way to keep you alive is to sever his proximity to you. The only way to protect you, as he so dearly desires, is for him to disappear. Watch over from afar. Maybe then, Theo won't hunt you like an animal.

But he knows it's nothing more than a pipedream. And in disobeying his king, there's more than just a high probability that he'll never see you again. All these years spent pining after you, chasing you down, getting to know every version of you the universe has to offer; and he will finally die. He will finally get what he's always wanted, as is the price for your life.

May 25th, 1967

Feelings grow, morph, and change overtime. What was initially anxiousness at the thought of us talking has turned into anticipation. I hope we will meet again. I can prepare, but I will not remember. I can pretend to shield my emotions, but it's too late. I like you, plain and simple. I like you. I cannot wax poetic like this, I simply like you. You are a small comfort, a being I can rely on, someone I want to cherish and savor like fine wine. I think about arguments, and fierce letters, and sharp kisses and bites. I think about a confession on your lips, late nights by candlelight spent sitting too close for just enemies, just friends, just anything. I think about bringing you trinkets, books, scraps of literature I cannot admit to writing myself. I think about cooking together and laughing together. I think about how awful your cooking could be, and eating it all anyways because you made it for me. I think about reading together in silence, waking up to leaning against you, something you might never let me do. I like you. I cannot stand it. I ache for you to the point of nausea; mere words will not encompass it. I’m learning you, and tracing my fingers along the ridges of your soul again and again and again. It inspires hunger, insatiable hunger, blunt teeth tearing through threads of time and storing them in the maw, savoring them; Swirling them around, feeling each individual thread snap and break, swallowing even as the ends scratch my throat, and swallowing some more, asking for more, needing more to remember to reread to rethink to reanalyze to cherish and destroy and love and hate and hunger for more always more never less always enough never full. The hunger subdues, declines, takes its teeth out of me but not its claws, always threatening, always wanting. Wanting, wanting, wanting like it deserves to. I want to avoid, not be a moth drawn to flame, drawn to certain death, I want to allow myself to stop thinking stop being stop wanting but the need grows the want grows the anticipation and desire to connect and to be it fills and snakes and squeezes my heart and– I need to be restrained and unwanting and alone again so I cannot feel anything or anyone. So I cannot taste the breeze, the ashes, the sea, the stars. If only to feel you, and to feel you on the curve of the wind's fingers, caressing and cooling and soothing and peaceful. I wish that peace was me and I was peace but the feeling of duty, of punishment, of praise, it requires chaos, it requires not a moment of simple and singular silence. In you I feel silence, I become silence, I conform, I become too much, I feel nothing, I feel everything—I want you. And this wretched heart won't let me stop. Every time I open my eyes I'm attacked with memories of you, ghosts of love and adoration flipping through my eyes in seconds and I just feel you as my breath and my echo, the words I speak, and the air I breathe. I can feel you in my hands, in my laugh, in everything I do. You are my world, my lover, my friend, the nostalgia in my tea and the memories I have yet to make everything, everything always you. Even now I can't untangle the cord of our souls, what are the chances you remember? Very little, I'm afraid. I will never speak to you of this—I don't want to, and I'm scared, but my gods—if I would not tear down the heavens for you, then love is just a concept. I would still become destroyer of the heavens, hell's purveyor of punishment, all if it, if only for you.

Shota

October 31st, 1992

The problem is that I want to be wanted too, so what am I doing so wrong? I find it hard to form lasting connections as quickly as others, am I just not enough? What makes me so inadequate? What makes me so wrong?

Why can’t I love and be loved as others are? Why is that so hard? I’ve always struggled with connecting with people. Something about my humanness, or lack thereof. One of my favorite quotes is this: “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I know I don’t deserve much, but that’s… Not necessarily the problem here. How can I accept love I’m not given? How is it that people who’re supposed to have a strong bond with me, bond with other people more? Am I simply unlovable?

What mark is there that ties me to them? If one of us leaves, our connection is simply lost to the wind. I suppose the ephemeral nature of my existence bleeds out into my relationships. I suppose that is the “wrong” within me.

I miss you. You are in the moon that washes over me. You are in every tender morning. You are in the weeds I uproot. You are bamboo, invasive to my land. You are in everything I am.

Thank you for listening. I know you always will.

Shota

December 25th, 2016

Everything that is "mine" has been stripped away from me.

People are

a hand

a heart

a hundred little things

slipping, just out of reach

away

Kind regards,

Shota

February 15th, 2023

My life and love have lost their luster.

and I, my gilded glow.

My darling is made of stars.

My darling cannot see me from afar.

For what separates the stars from the Earth?

What stops them from moving ever closer, ever nearer, from loving the land below?

Death, my dear heart.

The stars we see are dead,

and thus

I, too, am loving a dead thing.

You wouldn't like the person I've become. And I won't blame you. I don't like who I've become either.

Sincerely yours,

Shota

January 19th, 2024

I have much to say, yet no way to say it properly. I guess I will start with something I will never say again: I miss you.

My feelings alone are not enough to be the catalyst of a relationship, yet when I think about the few sweet words you’ve gifted to me I consider it may be enough.

I know you. And truly, the more I think I do, the more I’m aware I don’t. I wonder what kind of person would steal your heart. Someone with gentle hands, soft words, the epitome of kindness? Yet cruel in their own way, when provoked? I am nothing like that. The jagged edges of my splintered heart are just that; jagged edges. I am not callous, but at times I find myself wanting to be what people believe me to be. That is to say, I want to become an unthinkable beast.

Unthinkable beasts don’t cry for a lover they’ve never had though, do they.

The thought of you arouses such anguish within me, my heart. I think you would despise this pet name. My heart, my heart, my poor, beating heart. Bitter blue, dancing flame, stormy rose. You get prettier as you age. Like a fine wine, or an expensive cologne.

It’s not that I haven’t thought of you as a lover, but that I haven’t allowed myself to. It hurts. Worse than I believed it would.

It hurts. It really does. I don’t even know why anymore. Is it because I am unloved by you? Is it because I’m scared of truly losing you? Am I so selfish that I want you back with no regard for your safety? I am, and I am not. I wish I could distract myself from you again.

I want to be with you. I want to love you without doubt. I want to think of you and crave your presence without hurt. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you.

Humans are such complex little creatures. Somehow, after reading all of Shota’s letters, you're more determined than ever to love him. His letters, his final gift of closure to you, they infuriate you.

Who is he to decide your fate?

Who is he to decide you're better off without him around?

It's a gut feeling that has you running to his apartment. Your chest aches from the cold air and exertion. Your feet only carry you faster. You've never had a soulmate.

Across all those decades, you've never known what it's like. You were never able to understand the nauseating love others feel for someone else. You fell in love, but you never felt in love.

Not until Shota.

You knew from the start: For you, there was only ever him. There is no soul more perfect, no heart more understanding—it is him for you. You pray to whatever god exists that he's still in Seoul.

Your hands shake while you fumble with the set of keys he gave you. The lock clicks, and you burst through, hoping to find a light on.

But all that remains is silence. Cold and daunting.

You let out a hollow laugh to yourself. Tears prick the corners of your vision, then a scream bubbles up and into the back of your throat.

A pair of glowing red eyes stare back at you.

Unlike your beloved’s eyes, that always adored you, these eyes are callous. They pierce through your very soul.

There's an imperceptible flinch on their end that has you stumbling back slowly. Your heart thrums violently in your ears, begging you to turn back, begging you to move or do anything to fight against your now oncoming demise.

“He made a mistake.” It breathes in your direction, moonlight streaming through an open window.

You take a small step back, and it takes one forward.

“I am here to fix it.”

It lunges forward, hands snaking around your throat, smashing your head onto the tile below.

“Shota!”

In your freshly fogged brain, all you can think of is him.

He loves you.

He'll come.

“Shota, help!”

There's a deep throbbing in your chest. A fear stronger than your own grips you, your body finally listening and fighting for you. Black dots line your vision, your lungs burning in an agonizing pain you know to associate with death.

And then the pressure is gone.

“I'm not good at this whole emotions thing.” A steady beeping sound fills the sterile room where you lay.

“I don't even know where to begin telling you everything that's happened,” Shota swallows down his anxiety, warmth blooming in his chest. Your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“I should come clean to you.” Your voice has a rasp to it, throat completely dry from your days asleep, “I haven't been entirely honest.”

Your stare bores through him like acid. He feels your heart rate pick up before modern technology even dares.

“I… I’ve been seeing things. Myself. I don't know when it started, but shortly after I met you, she started appearing- first just occasionally, then the closer we got, the more I saw her. And then I started having these weird dreams about you… they felt like memories. I thought I was going crazy.

Shota, my whole life I’ve felt like no one would ever love me. Everyone had their soulmate, and I had no one. My parents didn't love me, I had trouble making friends, I felt no drive to ever… be anyone. And then I met you. You just got me. I finally thought: I don't need a soulmate. You never mentioned anything about a soulmate, you didn't seem interested at all—and then one day it just clicked. I felt like you were a part of me.

That night, when I went to your apartment, it was her. Me? I’m not sure, but she has my face. I still don't…”

You blink back tears. Shota holds your shaking hands in his. There's the boy you fell in love with. Soft hands, slow movements, love you've never felt with anyone else.

“Your soulmate is- Sorry, was, my brother. We're not related by blood, but by a familial bond forged when we were both children. I don't expect you to know anything about vampires, or what happens when they're soulmates with a human, but when a vampire is soulmates with a human they become mortal from the moment the two meet. Theo fought for many, many years to become the vampire king. He led wars, lost almost his entire family, and became the ‘monster’ he is today. I am of the opinion that he always envisioned a soulmate as powerful as him. And when he first saw you all those years ago, he didn't see the strength within you—only the vessel. I- I don't wanna get into it still, I’m not ready, but- when I was younger, I hated you. To me, you were just another obstacle in Theo’s way. He wanted you gone. My best friend was the one who would've done it if I didn't. I don't know what happened, you read the letters, I fell. I fell for you.”

“Somewhere along the way, I think I fell for you too.” Your voice is as quiet as a pin drop. He looks at you, warmth and something else just beyond his soulful eyes. His lips curl into a beautiful smile, the first you've seen in this lifetime.

It's my fate

To dedicate myself to you.

taglist: @tkooooop, @haolovre, @jiungsdaisy, @jmclouds

#piwontober24 #p1harmony smut #haku shota smut #haku shota x reader #haku shota

167 notes · View notes

starlightkun · 1 year ago

Text

i do not allow reuploads, reposts, or translations of my works. i cross-post to ao3 and wattpad. i do not take requests. i write for fun and for free. feedback is of course welcome and greatly appreciated, please feel free to send me an ask, reblog, or comment!

if you're looking for a fic and can't find it, check my archive masterlist

PLEASE READ/INCLUSIVITY: unless explicitly stated otherwise in the genre tags, all of my reader-inserts use she/her pronouns, and are commonly referred to with gendered language such as girl, woman, etc. i do not make references to the reader's skin tone. i tend to avoid describing how the reader-insert takes up space (height or size) but if i do, the only members that i may explicitly depict as taller than the reader-insert are those that are 180cm or above (johnny, jaehyun, jungwoo, sungchan, jisung, and maybe sicheng if i'm feeling extra nice)

taglist | recent work | recommended work

word count 2024: 293.7k | blog word count: 1.108M

nets: blankjournal

KEY

f - fluff a - angst m - mature/heavy themes (i do not write smut, but not everything here will be appropriate for all ages, proceed with caution and read all warnings provided at the beginning of fics) h - humor/crack fic ✦ - author favorite

the starlightkuniverses

➺ series of multiple fics that take place in the same universe. pick your favorite member or read them all

➺ the strawberry sunday anthology (f, m, h, ✦)

modern magical creatures au, modern fantasy au, college au ── fairy!jungwoo, vampire!kun, werewolf!jeno, dragon!jisung, werewolf!sungchan, human!renjun, and basilisk!mark * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the ayakashi series (f, a, m)

based off the otome game 'ayakashi romance reborn,' modern yokai au ── tengu!jeno, oni!kun, human!jaehyun, and snow spirit!doyoung * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m)

based off wayv's dream launch plan videos and the otome game 'sleepless cinderella' ── pilot!kun, surgeon!ten, actor!sicheng, director!dejun, robotics engineer!kunhang, and f1 racer!yangyang * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

special events

➺ 2023 hallmark movie marathon (f, a)

christmas-themed, new years-themed ── three (and a half) fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

qian kun

➺ frankenstein complex (f, m, ✦) ── 67.9k, completed

sci-fi, near-ish future, black op mission captain kun, ?????? reader, humans and aliens and robots ── in which the crew of the vision finds you as the sole survivor of a classified research facility and there's more gaps in your memory than memories themselves. on top of that, you've got this weird feeling that the captain of the crew you've found yourself with isn't exactly what he seems... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sweet girl (f, m, ✦) ── 53.9k

from the ayakashi series, oni!kun, onmyoji!reader ── in which you have to juggle love, friends, school, and a great evil that could destroy your city * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the bite (f, a, m) ── 25.5k

single dad!kun, single mom!reader, e2l, slice(s) of life ── in which kun's son bites yours at preschool, and you want nothing to do with this 'mr. qian' * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ romance is dead (f, m, h, ✦) ── 19.4k & 10.3k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, vampire!kun, human!reader, "uh-oh one of us drank a love potion" but with a twist, strangers(ish) to lovers ── in which there’s a mix-up with a love potion, and you're suddenly being courted by a several-hundred-year-old vampire. it's not all sonnets and bouquets, though, as you're keenly aware that kun's love could turn to thirst. and maybe you wouldn't mind if it did * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 11.4k

from the sleepless cinderella series, pilot!kun, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ much mistletoeing about nothing (a, f) ── 7.6k & 1.9k sequel

exes to lovers, christmas-themed, getting snowed in trope, cuddling to share warmth trope ── in which your first mistake was saying yes to christmas dinner with your ex. your second mistake was being late to said christmas dinner. and your third... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ hopeless for the holidays (f) ── 8.7k

strangers to lovers, new years-themed, attorney kun, wedding planner reader, aged up kun & reader (mid/late thirties) ── in which your friend drags you to a singles mixer being thrown by the local bar association, and you're less than thrilled. in between betting her coworker that he won't find someone to kiss by midnight and helping her avoid her ex from law school, you hardly expect to meet someone like qian kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ hold my red heart (f) ── 3.4k

christmas-themed, fake dating trope, f2l ── in which you need some help getting rid of a very persistent coworker, and what better way than bringing your boyfriend to the office christmas party? only problem, you don't have a boyfriend. enter kun. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [WIP...] flopstar (f, m) ──

band au, retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun, rookie/keyboardist!reader, age gap (older kun), same universe as filler episodes ── in which your band finally gets a break in the form of a recurring gig at a local underground punk venue. and when you realize the manager is the former keyboardist of your favorite band from a decade ago, it becomes even harder to keep your cool * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

kim doyoung

➺ snowflake (f, a, m) ── 75.3k

from the ayakashi series, snow spirit!doyoung, onmyoji!reader ── in which you experience both great love and great loss, and learn how to battle hypothermia * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

ten

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m) ── 13.8k

from the sleepless cinderella series, surgeon!ten, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

jeong jaehyun

➺ s.c.s. (f, m) ── 66.2k

from the ayakashi series, human!jaehyun, onmyoji!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which jaehyun's just always been a family friend, the son of your dad's friend. so why are you so nervous around him now? why are you thinking about kissing him so much? and oh yeah, what's up with all those evil wraiths? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ valentine boy (f) ── 5.0k

rich kid!au, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you’re reunited with your childhood friend and refuse to let him go this time * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

dong sicheng

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 13.5k

from the sleepless cinderella series, actor!sicheng, journalist!reader, fake dating, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

kim jungwoo

➺ [COMING SOON] finders keepers (f, a, m) ── 37.8k

sci-fi, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, soulmate au but make it aliens ── in which you've never been good at keeping your nose out of trouble, and a spaceship crashing a few meters away from you is right up your alley. the alien inside claiming that you're his soulmate might finally put you out of your depth, though * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ strawberry sunday (f, ✦) ── 28.4k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, fairy!jungwoo, human!reader, f2l, one (1) tease and one (1) idiot to lovers, slow burn ── in which you, all your friends, and your stupid massive crush on jungwoo go stay in one beach house together for spring break. you're determined to make it out with your secret in tact. but... has jungwoo always looked at you like that? touched you this much? like that? he can't be... flirting with you? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ second first kiss (f) ── 2.0k

new year's-themed, model!jungwoo, childhood f2l, drabble, gn!reader ── in which you spend every new year's with your best friend jungwoo. except the past couple years he's missed the target on his friendly new year's peck on the cheek, and you can't get him out of your head now * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

mark lee

➺ baby fangs (f) ── 26.7k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, basilisk!mark, sphinx!reader, strangers to lovers, age gap (older reader) ── in which a desperate mark knocks on your door one night when he gets locked out of his friends' apartment, and you get way more than you bargained for in return. you hardly expect that the cute infatuation he displays for you immediately would be anything more; nor that you'd ever find yourself falling for the basilisk and his baby fangs too * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ invested (a, f) ── 23.1k

ft. donghyuck, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

xiao dejun

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 14.4k

from the sleepless cinderella series, director!dejun, journalist!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

wong kunhang

➺ savior (f, h, ✦) ── 24.3k

royal au, prince!kunhang, princess!reader, "you saved me, so now i'm your problem" ── in which you really should've read up on the customs of your neighboring kingdom before visiting * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 11.1k

from the sleepless cinderella series, robotics engineer!kunhang, journalist!reader, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

huang renjun

➺ dr_magic2303 (f, h, m) ── 18.3k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, human!renjun, siren!reader, academic rivals to lovers ── in which a mysterious user by the pseudonym of dr_magic2303 starts popping up on your university’s online forums. you’re determined to get to the bottom of their identity, so you decide to enlist the help of your academic rival for the past four years, huang renjun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

lee jeno

➺ featherbrain (f, m) ── 48.3k

from the ayakashi series, tengu!jeno, onmyoji!reader ── in which you can't believe you've fallen for this stupid, stupid tengu * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ tongue-tied (f) ── 17.4k

strangers to lovers, model!jeno, journalist!reader, reworked version of old sleepless cinderella route ── in which you find yourself getting sucked deeper and deeper into an article in order to ignore the scarily personal part that won't seem to leave you alone * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ pupsick (f, m) ── 11.8k & 8.8k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!jeno, human!reader, f2l, bakery au ── in which jeno's sick and insists that you're the only one that can take care of him. but according to your only other werewolf friend, you're also what's making him sick * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

lee donghyuck

➺ invested (f, a) ── 23.1k

ft. mark, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

na jaemin

➺ the golden fruit duology (f) ── 32.0k

nades au, hades!jaemin, human!reader, persephone allegory ── in which you think you're trading away a third of your life for your dream job but get much, much more * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

liu yangyang

➺ speedometer (f, ✦) ── 14.1k

street racer!yangyang, college au ── in which you meet someone who sends your heart racing * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 12.9k

from the sleepless cinderella series, f1 racer!yangyang, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

osaki shotaro

➺ [NEW] sugarcoated brain (f, a) ── 13.7k

band au, punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader, same universe as filler episodes ── in which you're assigned to take care of the band who will be filling the weekly performance slot at your workplace. you're warned their scatterbrained frontman can be a handful thanks to his tendency to misplace everything he owns. what nobody could have prepared you for is his inexplicable one-track mind when it comes to you * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

jung sungchan

➺ buzzer beater series (f, m, ✦) ── 75.1k, completed

college au (and after), hockey captain!sungchan, chronically ill!reader (migraines) ── in which you swear you’re only going to the joint halloween party being hosted by the hockey team and nu chi tau for a few minutes just to say hi to sungchan, but as can be expected with your life, something goes horribly, horribly wrong * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

�� the soulmate factory (f, a, ✦) ── 28.9k

science fantasy au, soulmate au (red string), star crossed lovers, mystery ── in which you work at The Soulmate Factory, pressing all the buttons when you’re supposed to, changing strangers’ fates. until one day a red string appears on your finger, and you know something has gone horribly wrong. employees of the soulmate factory are explicitly barred from participating in the program. on top of hiding it from your coworkers and bosses, you also have to investigate how this even happened and undo it, before you lose your job and before you meet your soulmate * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ changer (f, a) ── 22.3k & 25.5k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!sungchan, human!reader, slowish burn, blind date ── in which you and sungchan are set up on a blind date, and it goes terribly. but a chance second meeting could reignite the spark of... friendship? well shit. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ that hot (f) ── 17.2k

meet-ugly, strangers to lovers, forced proximity (long car trip, vacation, etc.) ── in which you first get introduced to sungchan at a friend's party, but you just don't trust guys who are that hot. scene cut, and he's driving you to a cabin in the mountains that your entire friend group will be staying at for two whole weeks. then you miss your exit. then his car gets a flat tire. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ filler episodes (f) ── 16.6k & 9.5k sequel

band au, drummer!sungchan, normie!reader, badboy x good girl but make it loserboy x girlfail ── in which your whole life has felt like filler episodes, and you're tired of living like that. enter jung sungchan, part-time bookstore worker, part-time tea shop employee, and part-time drummer for a local underground punk band. he's everything you're not, and as soon as he's wedged himself into your life, you find that you don't want him to go * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ weddings & funerals (a, f) ── 9.9k

exes to lovers, second chance romance ── in which you and sungchan keep ending up as each other's plus-ones to weddings and funerals, despite the fact that you broke up months ago * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ tourist trapped (f) ── 2.4k

enemies to lovers (or are they...) ── in which your day out at the fair with your friends somehow ends up with you stuck at the top of the ferris wheel with the one person you'd been avoiding, sungchan. but you're not avoiding him for the reason that all your friends think you are... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

park jisung

➺ pur autre vie (a, f, m) ── 26.1k

paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung ── in which you inherit your stepdad's house under the condition that you can live there for as long as you take care of your mother. at first, you think her belief that the house is haunted is just her declining mind playing tricks on her. but the longer you're there, the more you start to think something isn't right... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | [WIP...] sequel

➺ the dragon's happily ever after (f, h) ── 17.4k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, dragon!jisung, human!reader, f2l, secret relationship/fake not dating trope ── in which you and jisung sort of forgot to tell your nosy friends that you're dating, but realize it's the perfect opportunity to give them a little taste of their own medicine. they're trying to set you two up, while you're trying to see how long it takes them to notice that you're already dating. cue the shenanigans * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

#masterlist #nav #mine #text #updated: 11/16/24 #recent: sugarcoated brain #next: finders keepers TBA #*100 #*200 #*300

326 notes · View notes

violettduchess · 11 months ago

Text

A/N: Vincent won the poll and with it, this kiss fic!

"This sadness will last forever" were supposedly Vincent Van Gogh's final words.

WC: 470

Trying to describe how it feels when Vincent kisses you makes you wish you were as talented with words as Dazai or Arthur. How can you possibly describe the feeling that floods you when he tenderly cups your face in his hands, eyes as blue as eternity, and leans down, softly pressing his lips against yours?

You are one of his beloved sunflowers, cacophonous and bright, baring your soul to the radiant blue sky, joy beaming from every corner of your heart. You are the strong branches of the almond tree in spring, riotous with pink and white blossoms, each petal a happy sigh that escapes you. You are the black spire stretching itself up up up into the expansive starry night, reaching with your whole soul for the stars.

Vincent parts your lips, delving deeper even as he tenderly pulls you closer, wanting to feel your solidness against him. Sometimes you wonder if he is afraid you are nothing but a phantom that will disappear if he opens his eyes, a creature of mist and dreams that will dissolve under the bright rays of sunlight. Your arms wind around his neck, your body presses closer, reassuring him that yes, you are real. You are solid. And you are unconditionally his. He is warmth and gentleness, golden as wheat fields in summer but he is also fiercely protective, a strength easily overseen and underestimated due to the tenderness of his nature, the boyishness of his mien. You know the truth. You know there is no shoulder you would rather lean on, no hands you would trust to hold your heart more than his.

Oh, those hands. Those beautiful, talented hands move over your skin like a paintbrush on canvas. With every caress he decorates you in his desire, his love, his dedication, his admiration and you? You feel beautiful. You are a work of art, a masterpiece, glowing with each stroke of blazing adoration along your body. There is nothing that lifts his heart more than the content sighs you whisper against his mouth, the ardent press of your fingers into his shoulder when your body lights up with yearning.

And if he pulls back for a moment, just a heartbeat in time, he can look into your eyes where he sees something unbelievable. He sees himself reflected there, in a way he never could imagine, despite the numerous self-portraits he has done. In the depths of your gaze, those windows to the naked essense of your heart, he sees himself as someone beautiful. Someone whole. Someone worthy of love.

Your name falls from his lips and just before he is utterly lost in the winding, sunlit path of your want, the hills and valleys of your body, he has a singular, sublime thought:

This love will last forever.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @fang-and-feather @bubblexly @kiki-tties @justpeachyteastea

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp vincent #ikemen vincent #kiss fic #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

86 notes · View notes

brynn-lear · 9 months ago

Text

"SALUTATIONS, I am Cranberry N.V. Tilde's editor. I'll be delighted to assist you in browsing their works."

⌜⟡⌟ TABLE OF CONTENTS ⌜⟡⌟ i. Teyvat Times [Genshin Impact] ii. Velvet Rumors [Persona Series] iii. The Blue Sea Star [Honkai Star Rail] iv. Fodlan Winds [Fire Emblem, to be added] v. Specials [original content, to be added]

【i.】 Teyvat Times

✧ When The Cypress Tree Wilts ✧ Yan!Kamisato Ayato Fanfic Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. 𓂂 Read here

✦ His Dog ✦ Dottore Drabble "You're 0.0035 seconds late. Do better." 𓂂 Read here

✧ Grievances ✧ Yan!Zhongli Comic "Why..." 𓂂 See here

✦ Papers, Please ✦ Thoma Angst Fic Exploring the possibility that the resistance failed, Inazuma's borders became stricter than ever before. Thoma begs the inspector to let (Y/n) in last minute, but it's a far more challenging ordeal for a "fixer" 𓂂 Read here

✧ "So I could've told her-" ✧ Yan!Neuvillette Comic Regency yandere au where Neuvillette doesn't know how to express his affections properly since childhood 𓂂 See here

✦ Little Mermaid ✦ Yan!Al Haitham Comic Aphotic: sea witch grants you a dangerous wish. it affects your lover. 𓂂 See here

✧ Pantomime of the Night ✧ Yan!Arlecchino Fancomic Comic inspired by a yandere vampire!arle fic written by harmonysanreads 𓂂 See here

✦ Capitano's So-Called Liability ✦ Yan!Capitano Series You, cursed to live as an elderly woman after losing a bet to Alice, decided to live your best life by watching thrills as the assistant of the most powerful man in Teyvat: Capitano. However, it seems that with you, he would gladly walk at a slower pace. (#Capitano's So-Called Liability) 𓂂 Chapter 1, 𓂂 Comic 1𓂂 HCs 1

✧ "Ship" In A Bottle ✦ Diluc Drabble Diluc doesn't seem to like the ex-pirate who visits Angel's Share all that much, but he'll change his mind soon enough. 𓂂 Read here

✦ Paging Dr. Zandik ✦ Yan!Dottore Drabble A House MD au because I love House MD it's my childhood. 𓂂 Read here

【ii.】 Velvet Rumors

✧ A Tasteless Cup ✧ Yan!Akira Kurusu Fanfic After the destruction of your previous reality, you and Akira Kurusu landed in Teyvat. In an effort to stay afloat, Akira had set up a book café in Mondstadt alongside you. However, is this the true flavor of "Freedom"? 𓂂 Read here

【iii.】 The Blue Sea Star

✧ WhoDrankIt ✧ Yandere Various!H:SR OTOME GAME!!! You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it... (Tap to learn more) 𓂂 The Original Comic 𓂂 The Otome Game 1.0 Beta Link

✦ If You Were Church... ✦ Yan!Sunday Art "I'll get on my knees." 𓂂 See here

✧ The Lovely Miss Sparkle! ✧ Sparkle Sketches Come take a look! In 5... 4... 3... 2... 𓂂 See here

✦ He Changed Himself For You... ✦ Yan!Gallagher Comic Gallagher knows more about you than he knows himself. And if he could just mold himself to be your type... 𓂂 See here

✧ The Dog Days Are Over ✧ Gallagher Sketches Just a place for me to dump general Gallagher art sketches 𓂂 See here

✦ A Happy Farm Life ✦ Yandere Dog!Gallagher HCs & Sketches yandere half-dog!Gallagher and forgetful farmer!reader au collection. 𓂂 See here, 2

✧ GALLAGHER PROPAGANDA ✧ Yan!Gallagher HCs He had to win, okay- 𓂂 Read here

✦ I Am The Righteous Hand Of God. ✦ Sunday & Gallagher Animatic I am the devil that you forgot. 𓂂 See here

✧ Don't Be Foolish ✧ Yandere Emanator!Dr. Ratio Comic Don't make me worry, again. 𓂂 See here

✦ Nah Bro We MILKIN' ✦ Yandere Dog!Gallagher Drabbles & Sketches I swore I made this as a joke. 𓂂 See here

✧ Family Matters ✧ Gallagher/RobinHill Drabble Robin keeps getting pestered by your older brother, Sunday. 𓂂 See here

✦ Holding A Wedding On Top Of His Funeral ✦ Yandere Rancher!Gallagher & Yandere Cowboy!Boothill Art Yandere rancher!Gallagher vs Yandere cowboy!Boothill over a mail order bride!reader fic when? When I'm done with the event probably- 𓂂 See here

【iv.】 Fodlan Winds

✧ “Come on, teach. Don't make me delete your saves.” ✧ Yan!Claude Von Riegan Comic He knows you're playing. But why aren't you choosing Golden Deer...? 𓂂 See here

"If you are looking for Ms. Lear's personal journals instead, please follow me."

#$ table of contents #$ chapter list == true #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #persona 5 x reader #yandere persona 5 x reader #yandere honkai: star rail #yandere hsr x reader

39 notes · View notes

saintgoths · 2 months ago

Text

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

CHILD OF RED CHAPTER ONE - MYSTERY SPELL.

WORDS - 3,003.

RATING - 18+.

SUMMARY - Scarlett Venura moves into Mystery Spell in order to become an au pair for a little girl who belongs to a mysterious and feared family of three brothers and their father, aware that their family consists of ground-breaking secrets---one of them being Night Children, Vampires, but as they try their utmost to keep their secret from the world they become apprised that their au pair has also some herself.

i also cross-post this fic on wattpad and ao3.

Scarlett has forgotten how long she has pretended to be a nine-teen year-old just to fit into society, but when it came to finding her parents, the young Vampire was willing to do anything, and the “anything”; had included her parking her car outside of the Bartholy Mansion. A lit cigarette in her hand that she had just previously dragged from her lips, gently influenced by her own mind to throw the piece against the floor, but the addiction to feel the hot smoke in her throat had won over her.

She had previously moved from Virginia, a state that had all types of Supernatural beings crawling over and when Scarlett had driven from Virginia to the town of Mystery Spell to take part of her job of being an Au Pair for the daughter of the house. She had been aware that the members had been Archfiends, creature of the nights, just like her.

Though, Scarlett had pondered would they be able to tell what she was? Or that something about her was different, that she wasn’t only a Vampire, but also a Witch.

Scarlett had been hired by their father, Viktor Bartholy, to take care of his daughter Lorie, and Scarlett had been aware that the family had been alerted by her presence, due to her music that had once boomed from her vehicle now currently being lowered by a twist.

For her own defence, Scarlett had believed that being around the Bartholy family would make it easy for her to blend in, so when she had removed herself out of her vehicle, with most of her properties in her hands, the long-haired girl had walked towards the sealed front door of the Manor---intrigued by how they had a gargoyle’s head as a knocker ring and had wondered how apparent they had wanted it to appear that they weren’t as normal as the people in the town speculated.

When Scarlett had placed her luggage down and aimed to ring the bell, she had assumed she had waited at least more than five minutes until she rang for them again, and for a couple of minutes, the girl had waited in the cold for the entrance to be unsealed, and when it had eventually been peeled open, she had been exposed to a young man, a blonde one at that.

He appeared to be the same age as her, and bored a handsome face with a devilish glint that flashed in his light brown eyes, orbs that didn’t seem to care that she had been waiting long for the Manor’s door to open. “Is it mandatory to leave a woman outside in the dark for too long?” Scarlett asked and with a smile, the blonde boy had widened the gap between the door frame and the door.

“Where is your patience?” He had asked and with a rude stare, Scarlett had clenched her jaw.

“On thin ice,” she responded, since there had been more than three people living in the house, Scarlett had expected for someone to be thoughtful enough to not want to leave the new Au Pair in the night cold.

“Maybe with that attitude I’ll make you wait outside longer,” he said and as his rudeness had been hushed by a quick figure who had stepped into the conversation. Scarlett had then turned her vision towards a brown-haired man who had carried long locks, lavish looking, stunning and had dressed in an odd manner, not in a circumstance where someone would say his dressing was bad, but he carried his essence and style in a demeanour that it had been evident he was a Victorian Vampire.

“Apologies for the lateness,” he smiled. “I’m Nicolae and this is Drogo, my youngest brother, don’t mind his attitude,” he reassured and with her lips pressed into a thin line she had watched Nicolae get down to his feet and pick up her luggage. “Pick up the rest,” Nicolae said to his brother who had clicked his tongue in response, alas, had followed his brother’s call.

Drogo had exited the manor and guided himself to her vehicle to collect the rest of her property, leaving Nicolae and Scarlett alone with each other, as the two walked down the Victorian home, Nicolae had sent Scarlett one last embarrassed look. “My father couldn’t make it to introduce himself to you since he’s on a trip right now.”

“It’s fine,” Scarlett smiled and the further she had walked up the steps, the more she had taken in the vintage décor that had been finely decorated in the home, as much as she had liked the atmosphere, she couldn’t help but laugh and observe how they didn’t try to make the suspicious claims any less. Though, somehow it had made the dark-haired girl admire their nonchalance.

Nicolae had guided Scarlett down the corridor she had assumed most of their bedrooms had been in, and when he had stopped in front of a door, Scarlett had quickly been aware that this must’ve been her bedroom for the time being. “I’ll give you time to settle,” he said before opening the door and gently taking her inside of the room.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Scarlett had pondered what had made her drawn to Mystery Spell, each previous town she had found herself in had aided the girl to become closer to finding out what happened to her parents, and presently, Scarlett had believed that Mystery Spell had to be the last place that could tell her what had happened to them, there had been an intuitive tug in her stomach that had informed her that this was the turning point.

Along with how the town being more supernatural than the previous towns she had been in; Scarlett had felt at home here. Each town Scarlett had lived in had magically lured her and aided her to learn clues to why her parents had disappeared, along with the vivid dreams she had been having.

Scarlett hadn’t interacted with people that are like her specifically, she has met Vampires with unique skills and Witches with immense power, but Scarlett had never met anyone who had been both Witch and Vampire. Scarlett doesn’t know how she came to be, but she knows that she was born a Witch with Vampire blood in her system which had activated once she had died.

Her death, a circumstance she had not liked to remember, thus to help her to forget, Scarlett would aid herself to push through with her mission, the previous towns she had been in had magically lured her to clues to why her parents had disappeared and coming to Mystery Spell had made Scarlett conclude that her parents that she had lost also had been in this town.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

It had been the next day and Scarlett had accompanied herself in the dining room, typing on her phone, she had already missed her friends from her last town; and had discussed with them when it’ll be the next time they would meet. Though her short ambience being interrupted by a red-haired girl who Scarlett correctly assumed to be Lorie.

Lorie who had quietly examined Scarlett, Lorie who had long hair with a full fringe, her hair styled in an odango with two matching bows on each side, her eyes were big and hazel and she had been dressed in an outfit Scarlett had believed to be her school uniform.

“Hi,” Scarlett smiled and with a judgemental tone, Lorie arched her left eyebrow.

“Hi,” she dryly greeted. “Are you going to be my new babysitter?”

Humoured, Scarlett placed her phone against her lap. “Well, what other reason would I be here?” She smiled, “Either way, I just know the both of us are going to have so much fun together,” she said as she pulled back, aware of the quick scrunch Lorie played on her face when those words fell from Scarlett’s lips, it didn’t bother the curly-haired girl, the girl who had then silently speculated what might’ve caused Lorie to die at such an early age, being a Vampire and all.

Scarlett had wondered if their father had just wanted a young daughter in his make-shift family, or if Lorie had been a poor girl, he had felt sympathy for.

“Scarlett,” Nicolae smiled as he stepped into the room, Drogo behind him with his hands shoved into his pockets, Drogo smiled at his younger sister before pulling her into a bear hug. “Peter isn’t here to welcome you,” Nicolae apologised, “He wanted to leave early, but I’m sure you’ll see him.”

With her eyebrows furrowed, Scarlett tightly nodded at Nicolae’s statement before she pushed her phone back into her pocket. The University had been a very private educational space, expensive and pompous enough to make the students wear uniforms, even though the Bartholy family had aided Scarlett to pay for the expenses of the University, Scarlett had been thankful that her parents had loaned her great money, which had made the girl believe that her parents’ disappearance was planned.

“Are you not going to eat breakfast?” Drogo asked and with a short look at the plate of sandwich Nicolae had made for Scarlett earlier on, Scarlett forced a smile before gently poking the fare.

He had made her an awful sandwich; he had spread one side with butter and the other side with mayonnaise, and sandwiched between the two breads, had been frozen peas that had tasted frost burnt from the time it had spent in the freezer they had in their home. It was the thought that had counted, but Scarlett had reticently begged for Nicolae to never think of making her food ever again.

“I’m going to buy food on my way to the University,” Scarlett said.

“You didn’t like the food?” Nicolae asked and caught red-handed; Scarlett slowly crossed her arms.

“Uh—I wasn’t in the mood for a sandwich,” Scarlett replied while she pulled herself to her feet she had reached towards Lorie. “Come on, let me take you to school.” Scarlett said, purposely wanting to leave the house to hide away from Nicolae’s questions.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Once Scarlett had taken Lorie to school, she had used her car to go to her local café shop to get coffee, and during her drive, the idea of her biting down on a Belgian Waffle had chased around in her mind, Scarlett loved Belgian Waffles, and tasting that would for sure make up for the rancid frozen sandwich Nicolae had made for her earlier on.

As she had patiently waited in line, Scarlett had wondered how obvious Nicolae had made it seem like he was not of the Human race, for her argument, Scarlett would’ve thought anyone who doesn’t know how to make a simple sandwich is not of the Human Race.

Aside from the food, Scarlett had pondered about the university, and how the people who studied in the building would treat her. With the uniform, Scarlett had comprehended that it was a prestige school, and in time Scarlett had hoped to get used of the rule of having to represent the place, though, when Scarlett had gotten her tour, she was informed that the dean was into imagery, so she had let it go.

While Scarlett had paid for her items, she had been content to learn that they did have Belgian Waffles and when she had pushed the rest of the commodities in her bag, she had immediately put herself to a stop, the second she had felt someone gaze wash all over her, she had turned around and locked eyes with a handsome man, who appeared to study in the same university as her, hence the uniform.

“New girl,” he greeted and with a smile, Scarlett had pushed the left handle of her backpack up her shoulder.

“People are already speaking about me?” Scarlett questioned and with a flirtatious wink, the man replied to her.

“Of course,” he responded. “They’ll speak about you more when they realise the new girl is beautiful.”

Awkward, Scarlett gently pulled backwards, uncaring about the expression she had on her face, he gently directed his body away from her. “Do you have a ride to the university?”

“I do,” Scarlett smiled, “I have my own car,” Scarlett said and by the corner of her eye, she quickly captured the blonde man that had entered the café with his group of friends behind him, and when Scarlett had recognised it had been Drogo, she had used all her might to not groan.

“Scarlett,” Drogo called out, his voice being laced with tease. “I’m deeply disappointed that you decided to spend your morning around this loser,” he sneered.

“I didn’t know the university had social ranks like a bunch of pre-teens,” Scarlett replied and with a twisted face that had caused Loan to laugh, Scarlett pressed the curve of the coffee against her lip before taking a sip.

Quickly moving over what she had said, Drogo’s ambers eyes fell on the waffle she had held in her other hand. “Waffles in the morning?”

“Better than the sandwich Nicolae made for me in the manor,” Scarlett replied and as Loan quickly exchanged looks with the two people who stood in front of him, he couldn’t help himself but slowly scrunch his face in disapproval.

“You live with him?” Loan slowly asked and uninterested Scarlett briefly looked him up and down.

“Yes,” Scarlett hastily responded, attentive of the look Loan still had on his face.

“You could’ve done better,” he gritted and moved by his bitterness, Scarlett raised the both of her eyebrows.

Mayhap, Loan had known of what Drogo had been considering his acerbity. “What is better?” Drogo slowly questioned, his inquire stoned with dare. “Your home?”

“Well, if Scarlett is desperate enough to cage herself in your Manor, perhaps my home is,” Loan bit and with a huge sigh, Scarlett slipped through the two of them.

“I’ll be going to my car now,” Scarlett muttered ere she pushed the entrance of the café door open, aware of the stalking shadow of Drogo remaining behind her. Put off by their track, Scarlett looked over her shoulder. “You should return to your friends Drogo.”

‘They can make it to the university themselves,” Drogo replied and with a humoured look on her face, Scarlett turned to the entrance of her car.

“Oh, so not only are you annoying, you are a bad friend and leaving them for a girl,” Scarlett judgmentally hummed as she unlocked her car door.

As kickback, Drogo pushed out a breathy laugh as he looked her up and down. “I believe they will understand me,” he winked fore he entered the vehicle with her.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“You have a nice car,” Drogo complimented and with a short look with the side of her eyes, Scarlett lightly rested against her seat.

Her hands softly spread against the object, taking in the texture of her steering wheel, the vehicle that the two had currently sat in, a gift given by one of Scarlett’s previous lovers. “Thank you,” Scarlett smiled before she started driving the car.

The moment Drogo felt the vehicle move, he gently pushed himself forward, pointing towards a path he had wanted to advise Scarlett to drive. “Go left—”

“I know where it is,” Scarlett cut off, her swift comment had earned her a scoff by the blond-haired man.

“Alright,” Drogo shrugged his liking immobile to Scarlett’s back talk. “I was just trying to be kind.”

With her eyebrow cocked, Scarlett gently hummed as kickback. “To make up for that behaviour of yours yesterday?” She had asked and humoured, Drogo gently chuckled at her inquire.

“No,” he retorted, his silliness gathering an annoyed look from the dark-haired girl beside him, who aside who found his pettiness irritating, had actually been humoured by his smart mouth.

“How charming,” Scarlett said.

“I’m the most charming person I know,” Drogo smiled, his hand pushing to unwind the window he was next to.

With a quick thought, Scarlett furrowed her eyebrows in fast disagreement of Drogo’s statement. “Actually, I think Nicolae is more charming than you.”

Insulted by her account Drogo dramatically choked at her response. “I believe everyone who says that to me is just trying to humble me,” he argued and with a laugh through her nose, Scarlett simply shook her head. “I don’t know how anyone finds his Victorian Style charming.”

“He has couth, and knows how to treat women,” Scarlett shared and by the click of his tongue, Drogo shuffled on his seat.

“I know how to treat women well,” he lightly argued. “I know how to treat women really well actually.”

“If that’s what you believe,” Scarlett whispered and as he crossed his arms, Drogo had kept himself to remain silent throughout the rest of the drive.

Though, his reticent fought by his talkative character, Drogo briefly glanced at Scarlett, his honey-like eyes briefly examining the woman behind the steering-wheel. “You’ve barely known me for a week,” he brought up and with a small smile, Scarlett responded, her light eyes still on the road.

“I have good judgement,” Scarlett said.

“Good judgement to be around Loan,” he smirked and with a judgmental arched eyebrow, Scarlett gently leaned back on her seat.

“Jealous of me finding Loan to be of better company?” Scarlett had asked and with a screwed expression, Drogo looked at the window beside him.

“You’ll soon regret your choice of words,” Drogo muttered, his statement loud enough for Scarlett to still hear with her Superhuman hearing.

“I can’t wait,” Scarlett smiled as she had finally parked her car in the University Parking Lot, aware of the dark look Drogo had on his face which had internally pushed Scarlett to wonder what had been the true root of the dispute the two men had for each other, their rivalry furthering Scarlett’s excitement to remain in Mystery Spell.

story masterlist

masterlist

#is it love drogo #is it love otome #drogo bartholy #drogo bartholy fanficition #drogo bartholy fanfiction #drogo bartholy fic #peter bartholy #nicolae bartholy #is it love franchise #vampire

2 notes · View notes